May 17, 2060: White lines snake from my head to the little portable device slipped into my pocket. I'm wearing the new technological device that inputs electromagnetic impulses into my brain, stimulating my temporal lobe. As the waves build in intensity, I feel a calm come over me. It's a spiritual experience, without the bother of praying for hours. I sense a presence beside me.
Science fiction? Maybe, but technology is leading us towards a life in which even our spiritual needs are met by electronic devices. A larger version of this device has been built using a motorcycle helmet and the inventor claims it can simulate religious experience. Then there's the website called iGod, which uses an artificial intelligence program to mimic a personal conversation with God.
But we don't have to look into the future to see this phenomenon. Technologies are meeting our spiritual needs even now. Consider the iPod and MySpace.
The iPod is the spiritual symbol of our generation. It represents two of the defining beliefs today: choice and entertainment. One commentator has said that movements in Eastern Bloc countries to tear down the Iron Curtain meant people had the freedom to choose between Coke and Pepsi. That statement trivializes the struggles that brought down the Iron Curtain, but it does reflect the reality of our 'free' choices. The iPod also represents freedom of choice, but what choices do we make with that freedom?
Most music on most iPods is entertainment. It stimulates our senses but does not often get us to reflect on deeper elements of our existence. The modern music industry produces music that appeals to our sense of self (or what we desire to be). The “starmaking machinery behind the popular song” (Joni Mitchell, Free Man in Paris) too often portrays a shallow image of self-absorption (although some artists actually call us to be more than what we currently are).
The iPod is an advance over top-40 radio because people can fill it with the best iTunes they can lay their hands on. But the iPod represents the ultimate in modern preoccupation with the self. Listening to music through headphones can yield a particularly entrancing mental state. The reflection encouraged by the isolation given by blocking out external distractions is similar to that given by meditation. I do think that iPods can enhance spiritual experience, but it is a deeply selfcentered experience.
Of course, it depends on what you listen to, since different styles of music give particular experiences (the calm serenity of Arvo Pärt's music versus the throbbing sensuality of the Rolling Stones). What are people meditating on when they listen to their iPod? They listen to music that they like, that feeds their own emotions. Although these are legitimate roles for music, they are not the most profound. Laurie Anderson, a U.S. experimental performance artist and musician, calls her work “difficult music.” It does not aim simply to please or to make one feel good.
To be fair, some popular music (and more independent music) speaks to larger human concerns and does not offer saccharine solutions. Music can speak to the whole soul: its joys, sorrows, questions and certainties. But music can also be a communal experience. It is not enough to share one of your friend's earphones. Start writing your own songs and share them with others.
The Me Media
Personal technologies like MySpace (a popular social networking website) also involve spiritual elements. For one, they reflect a fundamental human hunger for connections with others. This is central to the Christian notion of the “image of God.” Personal relationships are a vital part of the way in which we reflect God's own being.
Some commentators call these social networks the “Me Media” because they encourage a way of being that is all about enhancing self-esteem. The best photos of the person are displayed and people compete to see who has the most links to “friends.” The shallowness of these relationships is evidenced in the briefness of the communication between people (if any — most MySpace use is probably anonymous browsing). The online profiles are enticing, but may be exaggerated or at least indicate only a portion of the personality, inevitably the most marketable aspect. Fortunately, the Internet also provides a forum for “blogs” (a sort of online diary) which are often more reflective. Ursula Franklin provides a reality check for those entranced by websites and e-mail. A materials science and metallurgy professor at the University of Toronto, she grew concerned about the social effects of technology. In 1989, she delivered the prestigious Massey Lectures.
Franklin makes a distinction between two types of technology: prescriptive ones that mould us into their image, and holistic technologies that allow true humanity to flourish.
Franklin does a good job of defining how new information technologies distort human communication patterns. She emphasizes the give-and-take that happens in face-to-face meetings, as well as the body language and other non-verbal cues that help us interpret the message. These cannot be duplicated in email, which breaks the time-bound exchanges and lacks emotional cues (emoticons notwithstanding :-)).
Telephones, she accepts, do give some emotional cues in tone of voice, and are synchronous — the conversation happens with no lapse between exchanges — so they allow give-and-take. But I wonder what she thinks about cell phones, which encourage intimate exchanges, unfortunately too often in public places. One of my students, for whom English was a second or third language, wrote an essay about “selfphones,” which I think typifies the way this intimate technology is another example of the Me Media.
When does God break into our reality? Do we allow other people to be that still small voice that is left over when the allure of the latest technology is stripped away? Can we use our creations to foster the image of the personal God within us and others?
