Resiliency
Inside, her anxiety increased. The arrangements were old-fashioned and rough. There was even a female attendant, to whom she would have to announce her wants during the voyage. Of course a revolving platform ran the length of the boat, but she was expected to walk from it to her cabin.
“O Machine!” she murmured, and caressed her Book, and was comforted.
–E. M. Forster, The Machine Stops
The sociological ripple effects of the PSN outage are fascinating to watch.
I wasn’t born into a digital world. I spent my youth in an analog world of pen and paper. I was a teenager before words like “e-mail” or “screen name” or “internet” existed. I was in my twenties before our culture’s collective sense of wonder disappeared and we realized that the miracle of globalization made us all feel that much more insignificant in the grand scheme of things. And I was in my thirties before I discovered a truly immersive virtual reality like PlayStation Home.
There are a lot of people, however, who were born digital. People for whom this level of interconnection and instant gratification has always existed. People who, in some cases, are arguably more fluent in HTML than they are in English.
Our digital lives are far more delicate than anyone realizes.
Let’s use an extreme example.
Assume, during the next solar maximum, that there’s a particularly strong solar flare (or, worse yet, a coronal mass ejection). And that Earth is in its path. This isn’t as far-fetched as you think. We just went through these conditions eight months ago. We were just lucky that Earth wasn’t in the way.
The amount of EMP would effectively reduce, overnight, all human civilization to pre-industrial levels. And without the ability to manufacture ammonium nitrate or other macronutrients, there would no longer be sufficient food supply for (conservatively) half the world’s population. I don’t have to tell you what happens next.
Now, before you think I’ve gone all James Wesley Rawles with HSM, let’s look at a less horrific example.
Assume the internet itself was rendered useless or inaccessible. Yes, I know it’s a remarkably robust and decentralized system that would be nearly impossible to completely destroy, but still. Nothing is infallible.
Our lives have adapted so much to the digital age that the idea of reverting to the lifestyle we had merely twenty-five years ago seems nearly terrifying. Imagine going back to snail mail. And trips to the library. And the mystery of not knowing what your friend is doing every ten minutes of his or her life.
So now let’s look at the Great PSN Outage of 2011. Home is down. Has been for days. And no one has any idea when it might come back. Could be tomorrow. Could be a week from now. Who knows.
And what makes it interesting is that Home, for a lot of people (including myself), is a tremendously addictive experience. Because in virtual reality, you can be whatever you want. Ours is the first generation to transcend the socioeconomic limitations our actual lives are defined by; in Home, we have built a society based on whom we want to be, not whom we actually are.
In Home, a deaf man can communicate. A paralyzed man can run. An unattractive woman can flirt. An agoraphobic can party the night away. And a geek like me can dance.
Virtual reality, at its best, allows people to lead more fulfilling lives. Yes, Home is a commercial venture. Yes, it has its share of issues. But let’s not lose sight of something:
Home has done a lot of good for a lot of people.
So what happens when the machine stops?
(I should point out, by the way, that the epigraph to this article was written 102 years ago. You really ought to read the story. It’ll take you less than an hour, but it’ll stay with you for a lifetime.)
The downside of virtual reality is that it’s easy to go too far down the rabbit hole. And some of the recent articles written by this fantastic team of journalists have pointed this out.
This is not to say that we should abandon Home. Not at all. Rather, I suggest that your enjoyment of Home can actually be deepened if you keep it in perspective.
I’ve asked this question before in HSM, and it’s sparked some interesting debate (because it forces you to look inside yourself): with Home, are you running from something or running to something?
There is a subtle but distinct difference.
Most of us, if we’re honest, are running from something. And maybe, just maybe, these last few days without Home have helped you to confront it. So that when we inevitably return to Home, we’re running to something.
I’ve just realized, whilst typing this, that one particular song and video neatly sum up virtually everything I’ve tried to say with this article.
httpvhd://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zI9C9j0QgU4
Sometimes it IS important, amidst all the loud noise and revelry, to stop for a minute.
Sometimes, when we lose something, other parts of us become stronger in order to compensate. A blind person can develop more acute hearing, for instance.
So when we lose our virtual lives, even for a little while, perhaps this helps us strengthen our real lives. When we lose who we want to be, we help reconcile ourselves with whom we are.
And thus, when we inevitably return Home, perhaps it will be with a greater inner strength than before. Because whom you are is just as valid as whom you are projecting yourself as.
”You don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone”
Humans are unique and we find away through things. We are beyond spoiled and have an insatiable hunger for tech. One good solar flare and poof, out go all the pretty little lights and cute little sounds that so many of us are use too.
The PSN will be back up shortly. Take the time to say hi to all your friends. Make new friends and for the sake of everyone avoid the drama and petty things that only take up your time and cause others grief. If things are not going great with a club or friends and it can’t be resolved, just go in a whole new direction. Don’t even fret.
Enjoy life, Smile and live. Simple stuff huh?
A truly happy person is one who can enjoy the scenery on a detour.
Loved this article Norse. You have hit the nail on the head. I think that all of us have had to rethink a few things this past week and reassess our priorities. I have been actually playing the games I own, which is weird since they are what brought me to Home in the first place. I have also begun to find more to occupy my time in the real world as well. Like working and learning this new technology I am working with better.
I think that all of us will go back into Home with a better appreciation of what we have both there and in real life once this is over. Like Joni Mitchell said “you don’t know what you got til it’s gone”.
I am very interested in seeing what effect this has on the society of Home. Will we all just go back to what we were doing? Will those who come back be more focused and dedicated?
What is this ‘real life’ thing you speak of? Is that what X-box has?
There is no real life. There is only Zuul.
Please read the notice from Sony! I posted it in the HSM Forum a few minutes ago. This is a major emergency -- our personal account files with cc information have been hacked.
I REALLY hope, in the end, the worst that happens to any of us becuase of this is that we are without Home and Online PS3 play for a week or two, and thats all.
I have thought of, quite frequently actually, how long I could survive if all of the worlds automation suddenly stopped. I don’t hunt; I can’t grow plants for the life of me. I am completely dependent on others for my sustenance. Although I work and I earn my living… I still need the machine to maintain. Thankfully I think the world has enough safeguards and redundant systems to survive pretty catastrophic circumstances. It would have to be a world-ending worldwide event to bring humanity to its knees.
I hope.