Having just exorcised my computer from a crippling virus, I’d like to offer that if GM had made cars in accord with Microsoft’s self-professed “progress”, their cars would randomly crash several times a month. Further, the dashboard would occasionally go completely blue forcing you to either replace the engine or throw the car away and start anew… without apology or culpability from GM. Yeah, thanks, Bill – that’s exactly what GM needs.
Perhaps I took this a little personally, this attack on my personal computer.
More deceptively, this particular virus ACTED LIKE IT WAS MY FRIEND. It said, “Malware detected. Click to quarantine.” And since we’ve got every virus protection this side of wearing radioactive-proof puffy clothes, I clicked. Bad idea.
My mouse became possessed and disobeyed my commands. It was doing the digital equivalent of dropping mouse droppings on my desk while giving me a rude paw signal. Soon enough, a recorded female voice suggested I purchase “Malware protection”. I sensed evil in her tone and a realization of defeat. I shut her down, but the damage was done.
I had 3 thoughts (A new record for me!). The first was understandably murderous. The other two suggest there can be life after disconnectedness… and benefits galore.
My first thought: who exactly benefits from the infliction of viruses? Who has time to design these and sit back and hope random damage occurs? The same smarts that created these could certainly do something more productive.
My second thought: Now what? We’re all so computer/email/social media entrenched that I felt like an adult-sized umbilical cord had been unplugged. I fired up my ‘non-networked’ laptop to create documents and limp through my responsibilities. Yet a few times that first day, I found myself with hands perched atop my now-dead keyboard in some robotic trance. My former desk mate and connection to community was a lifeless appliance. It was like finding out your dog had actually been a stuffed toy all along.
My third thought: How can I use this for good? Though my initial feelings were ‘loss’, in time those shifted toward ‘freedom’. Untethered to the constant inflow of emails all screaming “Pick me! Pick me!”, I could actually complete a thought. An editorial. A line of responsibility.
I could catch up on my ever-overflowing pile of valuable though less intrusive mail. (There’s a lesson in that last sentence for you dear contractor marketers. Hint: Mail readers spend 2.4 times more to reading printed mail than emailed equivalents. Source: Digital Age, 2/10, ‘Are You Worth the Trouble?’)
I read my marketing newsletters, trade journals, plus several promotional letters and magalogs. I found it interesting that several “online” marketers have shifted more focus toward direct mail and done so quite effectively. The smartest ones overlap on and offline.
I made time to finish the book, 24 Hours That Changed the World, about Jesus’ last days. My suffering ‘seemed’ like a big deal, but sort of paled to betrayal, wrongful accusation and flogging. You don’t really have to look far to see someone worse off, ever. Also gave me time to finish up related Sunday School lessons for my class of largely disinterested 11th graders. And I thought contractors were a tough crowd. Whoa.
I then relearned how to use a pen. Remember those? Ink flows out of one end and scribes “words” on paper. Then people blessed with the ability to decipher “cursive” (an ancient communication font) can actually read.
And since my Outlook reminders had ceased, I put notes in my DayTimer (ask your grandparents). Works fine. Speaking of remembering, there was a time that a normal human being could remember 20-30 phone numbers instantly. Now it’s done for us. The same person could remember several birthdays, anniversaries (Oops!) and appointments, sans nano-nanny. They could compose paragraphs in clear, successive thoughts, with infrequent misspellings that neither required massive re-edits, paragraph rearrangement, nor any need to use a splchkr.
The fusion of the brain line-links that made us able to do this are evolutionally eroding, suggests author Joshua Foer in Moonwalking With Einstein, How to Remember Everything (a book I just remembered was on my nightstand!). Lack of focus, electronic memories, and regular interruptive distractions caused by our love affair with computers and now hand-held versions thereof, are eating our ability to think.
There is even suggestion that our sway toward “being more efficient” through gadgetry has crossed a line of diminishing returns. That is, more efficient machines are yielding less-efficient people.
You think I’m longing for a return to the stone-age? Could be were in the “stoned-age” as we speak:
- Office workers spend 28% of the workday dealing with interruptions (2.1 hours on average).
- The average recovery time from any interruption is about 4 minutes.
- Employees devote just 11 minutes to a project before being sidetracked.
- The IQ of workers who juggle email messages and work falls by 10 points -- the equivalent to missing a whole night's sleep and more than double the 4-point fall seen after smoking marijuana! (If your staff begins lobbying hard on this point, time for another random urine test.)
- 53% of workers check their email more than 6 times per day. 34% check it constantly. The word ‘constantly’ leaves little room to be doing any other actual work. Is ANYTHING that urgent. What, are they expecting a message that says, “You’re currently on fire!”?
Honestly, my 3 days of “email time out” and virally imposed disconnection was fabulous. My desk is neater, my brain more full, my appreciation for contemplation in a normally NON-contemplative environment increased.
A popular method of running a faster marathon among those who do? Run a mile. WALK a mile. Rest, recharge, contemplation, prayer. Call it what you will. Even God disconnected on the 7th day. Try it.Disconnect from the network; reconnect to yourself. I bet you’ll like yourself more than you remembered.
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