Changing technology creates new fears too


Every generation, it seems, bears with it a unique set of fears. I take comfort imagining that even in biblical times, people — after years of parental warning — would scan the room at the slightest fear that unwanted ears were listening in.

But the 21st century seems to have ushered in a new set of fears that even the most careful mother could not possibly prepare her children for. And it’s not for lack of trying. Believe me when I say that my mom was one of the first to preach the dangers of the Internet.

“I heard a great piece on the radio that said to never write anything you wouldn’t want to be read in front of a jury or your grandmother,” she’d warn every other day.

Though I understood the sentiment, I can’t say the concern entirely captured the so-called “dangers of the web.”

The issue was she was applying 20th century logic to a 21st-century problem. We don’t get to control 21st-century fears. They just happen.

Here’s one fear in three words: The meme generator. Long gone are the days when you know when someone is taking a picture of you. Today, anyone can take a picture of you as you unknowingly go about your daily activities — walking to class, spilling your coffee, running on the treadmill.

Next thing you know, a frenemy has sent you a Facebook message that says, “Look, it’s YOU!” Underneath is a link. You click and see that your valiant effort to work out at the gym has quickly become a meme on a list of the “10 Most Average Ways to Look Embarrassing.” You check Twitter, but it’s too late. The list has already been retweeted 652 times.

But wait, there’s more. Now thanks to GIFs, you can go viral live action and on loop.

Similar is my fear of photobombing a viral video. It goes like this. One day, you’ll be out in public, say, at the mall. You’ll be having a heated argument and gesticulating wildly (as I have a bad habit of doing when truly invested in a conversation).

Little do you know, a news crew has been filming a segment for the 6 o’clock news and decided to use the skirmish in a cutaway. The next morning, you awake to find your fight has been broadcast via a Gawker post the next morning: “Local TV Crew Catches Cosmo Kramer Impersonator Fighting at Mall.” You can see it on The Daily Show’s “Moment of Zen” already. This will absolutely happen to me; it’s just a matter of time.

Recently, one of my 21st-century fears did, in fact, come true. And I learned quite a lot about myself in the process.

Apparently, I purchased tickets to sit in the front row of a Jesse McCartney and Backstreet Boys concert. I also occasionally “look at myself in the mirror and randomly start twerking #isthatweird.” And, on June 12, I apparently wanted to “sneak into the church nursery and eat all the cookies #PastoralConfessions.”

Or so said a fake Twitter account.

Over the summer, I discovered that someone had created an imposter account in my name with the exact profile settings I use on my actual Twitter. More on this in a future column, though.

Now that you probably think I’m certifiably paranoid, I’m here to say I’m not. I also don’t hate technology. In fact, I’m told it has eliminated many fears that used to plague past generations. Long gone are the fears of hopelessly yearning for a soul mate, at least according to the ads. Now, they say your worries can vanish with the click of a button. Simply create a profile on Match.com (though I’m guessing my mom would rather I use JDate).

In short, my discomfort with 21st-century fears stems from an overall lack of control over my technological fate. It’s true that, in the past, one was never fully able to control their identity. Yet we seem to have shed a greater degree of control with new ways of communicating through certain technologies.

Unlike sending a letter or its evolved form, a text, one is no longer always able to make a choice about how he or she is portrayed. More often than not, it seems the choice is left at the mercy of other people.

At one moment, you might seem to be the regulator of your own reputation. Then the next night, you’re a national dinner table conversation because some eager blogger has stuck your terribly photoshopped head in front of an ugly gradient and called it a meme.

So this is life, I guess. Things are not changing anytime soon. And that’s my issue to deal with. But let’s just say I’d sleep a lot better if the Internet would stick to cats.

 

Daniel Rothberg is a junior majoring in political science.

Follow Daniel on Twitter @DanielRothberg