Cynthia Cleveland 
Losing Touch 
Human 
connection is important to our survival as a species. Without that connection, 
our ability to proliferate is threatened, as we would seek no companionship. The 
advent of technology has seemingly thrown a wrench into the ways we seek 
companionship, we find that it is much easier to go “online” and find a partner, 
as opposed to going out into the real world and meeting someone. While this is 
not problematic in itself, it says something about our reliance on technology. 
As we progress, we find that our reliance and fascination with technology has 
only increased; we spend countless hours interacting with a type of virtual 
reality with real people on the other end, but it begs the question of whether 
we are doing it too much. Technology will only continue to progress and our 
fascination will likely follow suit. As our fascination grows, we become 
increasingly more isolated and dive further into these virtual communities, and 
to what effect? High-Tech and Low-Tech science fiction narratives seek to give 
us an insight into that very question. While High-Tech focuses more on the 
advancements of technology itself, we still get a glimpse into how such 
advancements may affect our interactions with others as a side effect. Low-Tech 
science fiction, conversely, focuses primarily on the emotional disconnect we 
experience in a world where technology has taken over and how we cope with these 
advancements while still retaining our ability to connect to others.  
The 
subgenre of the High Tech/Virtual reality narrative within science fiction very 
much relies on a sense of adventure to captivate the reader. Many of the stories 
gloss into the unbelievable and present us with an extremely artificial vision 
of the world we know; we don’t get to the know the characters very well beyond 
surface level and the narratives are almost always very action oriented. One 
particular example of this is William Gibson’s “Johnny Mnemonic”, in which most 
of the narrative presented is focused on relaying the story to the reader in a 
matter-of-fact recall of events. The story only concerns itself with detailing 
the technical aspects of the world and what body modifications separate each 
individual from the other. What distinguishes this style from its sister 
subgenre (Low Tech), is the lack of emotional connections between other human 
beings or any rumination on their actions or the world they live in—it simply 
is. This trend is much the same in Gibson’s “Burning Chrome”.  
Gibson’s “Burning Chrome” dives a bit deeper than “Johnny Mnemonic” in regard to 
the emotional connections made, but they are still fairly shallow—it barely goes 
beyond a glint of concern for Rikki’s well-being and a hint of growing affection 
that is never expounded upon, it seems only a matter of passing interest. Our 
main character’s interest in Rikki only seems to be highlighted by Bobby’s lack 
of real interest in her, which could be interpreted as pity in some instances 
rather than genuine interest. The flashbacks presented in the story give the 
reader the feeling of reflection, as they shift between the virtual reality in 
which they are “burning Chrome” and Automatic Jack’s encounters with Rikki. From 
these flashbacks, we get the impression that Jack has formed an attachment to 
Rikki; however, it is clear that the virtual reality is the chasm between their 
ability to form genuine human connection. This binary is a clever tactic by the 
author to show how virtual reality—whether it be the virtual world Jack and 
Bobby navigate or Rikki’s obsession with “Simstim”—can create a disconnect 
between human beings. This objective is reinforced by Rikki’s desertion of 
Automatic Jack as she leaves and seeks stardom in the “Simstim” world, despite 
the obvious implication of a budding affection between the two of them. This 
concept is very much alien in the Low-Tech subgenre, where emotion is the 
guiding force.  
Low-Tech narratives of the future rely on emotional connections to propel the 
story forwards and to make a point about the world of technology in which we 
live. Thomas Fox Averill’s “The Onion and I” is a world similar to Gibson’s 
“Burning Chrome” in which virtual reality simulations are possible, however they 
have not become integrated with everyday life. The concept of this story is 
similar to Gibson’s in making a point to show how human connection and our sense 
of reality is inhibited by the overuse of technology. The family is given the 
opportunity to essentially live their lives in a virtual reality—all of their 
possessions have been taken and “scanned” into their virtual world, and they 
subsist on “protein paks” as they dine virtually in restaurants. Every aspect of 
their life is digitized. While this seems like a convenient lifestyle, it 
becomes apparent that this is problematic after the main character experiences 
an existential crisis as a result of this lifestyle; he begins to question his 
own existence after having been immersed in the virtual system for so long. The 
lack of human interaction and connection is essentially the catalyst for such a 
crisis; disconnecting from the system for long periods of time is impossible, he 
does not get any real interaction with his mother or his father. It is only 
after his father disconnects him from the system and plants the onion with him 
that he realizes there must be a balance between real life and a virtual life.  
This 
concept of balance between virtual life and real life is evident in the contrast 
of Low-Tech and High-Tech subgenres of science fiction. High-Tech narratives are 
action oriented and rely on a sense of adventure, while leaving human contact 
and interaction to the wayside. The High-Tech narratives are often violent and 
consumed with themes of gadgetry and body modifications—it creates an atmosphere 
of artificiality. In contrast, Low-Tech narratives are emotionally involved and 
question whether technology in large doses is good for humanity as a whole. 
Looking at High-Tech versus Low-Tech narratives, we can see how high usage of 
technology is questionable. Characters within these High-Tech narratives become 
so consumed with the artifice that they seem bereft of human emotion; Bobby’s 
relationship with Rikki is superficial. They are both so consumed by their 
desires—Rikki to get eye implants and Bobby to “burn Chrome” and make the big 
score he’s always been dreaming of—that they seem coexist in a state of mutual 
non-existence towards one another. That in itself is a warning that technology 
can have such far-reaching effects on our capability to bond with others. This 
concept makes itself much more evident in Averill’s “The Onion and I”, in which 
the disassociation with reality causes the main character to question his own 
existence. In this regard, we realize that a reliance and addiction to 
technology is a slippery slope, and one that can result in an inability to 
relate to others and the world around us. Overuse of such technology can cause 
us to lose touch with the world around us, whether it is in the literal sense, 
as in “The Onion and I” or our ability to recognize other human beings as more 
than just tools in our toolbox to meet a goal, such as Bobby’s superficial 
relationship to Rikki. Either way, it is evident that a balance must be reached 
with our virtual existence and our real-world existence.  
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