I was sitting in a lecture with a professor the other day whose research, in part, addresses the stress that arises from Inbox spam. I guess it’s a bigger deal to some people than others (I mean, though, really? Spam stresses you out?), but I liken it to one of those typical reactions to technology that we’re all familiar with:
When the first guy put up a tent, everyone else was like, “Whoa, that’s cool! Portable shelter! But we’re worried about the fact that we can’t keep an eye out for roaming smilodons…” So somebody poked a hole in the tent, making the first window, and everybody went: “Sweet! We can totally keep an eye out for Saber-toothed beasties, but now there’s a breeze, and, by the way, the wall is a little shaky…”
So, then came the less-shaky wall, and the window with glass (“But now the sun blinds me when I stare out through it!”), then horizontal blinds, etc. And, of course, the kid who’s born in the house instead of the yurt, instead of the tent, instead of under a tree, instead of sitting in the middle of a field (now those guys had it rough), grows up with the glass windows and understands the limitations and benefits of the walls and the windows. While her grandparents are still complaining about how bright the sunshine is and how the curtains don’t function properly, she has more important fish to fry: Her inbox is full of erectile dysfunction-related spam.
Everybody understands how this works, at least on some level, but we are so obsessed with the idea that change is coming faster, harder, wilder, and more out-of-control than ever before. Some people write thoughtful articles about the “Culture of Change” and other, equally intelligent, folks write ranting blogs about the impending doom of the human race as we IM and twitter ourselves into madness. Heck, there’s more than a little Ludd-o-philia in a lot of librarians who SWEAR that there is an inherent human need for people to help other people organize information and that card catalogs or Second Life are the best tools for the helpers to get paid to use to do their job.
Sigh. I don’t know where I’m going with this. As usual, I start to flare out when writing something blog-style (like crane technique, “no can complete”). I guess that if I had a point it’d be something like this: It’s cool that you’re stressed about spam, or that you care that other people are stressed about spam. However, it seems to this chucklehead that the crux of the matter is really at the stress, itself – stress over the spam, the sun, or the sabretooth – not the things that we invent to cause it.
I should probably pepper this post with links to pertinent articles and books and etc., but I’m just about done with work this fine Friday evening and I’m off to walk the dog, have dinner with my friend Ed, go to a meeting, and then crash at home playing God of War 2 on my re-borrowed Playstation 2 (which reminds me: The Xbox has passed through the Ring of Red Light and must be sent away for a few weeks. Now there’s something work stressing about.). Good night and good luck.
