Debating a digital detox

You know when you haven’t been on the web or checked you email for a few days? No, me neither.

Around a decade ago, deciding to go online was not a decision to be taken lightly. Our laptop (significant in itself – we had one web-capable device to share) took a while to boot up, and then there was the ceremonial laying of the modem cable - unravelling it from the reel and stretching it to the other end of the house, where the phone got unplugged so we could bathe in the warm glow of the internet.

There was no surfing the web – if you were lucky, after the whistly-tweety dial up noises (and some possible “connection failed – trying again” messages) a trickle of internet reluctantly entered the house like a nervous mouse, ready to vanish at any moment.

If someone emailed us a picture, it was time to go and make a cuppa. A 2MB photo would take several minutes to squeeze itself down the narrowband.

Still, it was pretty awesome. In 10 minutes or so, we could be looking stuff up and feeling all connected – as long as we didn’t wait for images to load and the connection didn’t drop.

No wifi. No smartphones. No social media. Video? Don’t be ridiculous. iPad? uWhat?

Now we’re permanently tangled in the 24/7, always on, web. From the last check of Twitter before I turn out the light at night to the check on the day’s weather after the alarm goes off, I’m online all the time. Where once there was a shared laptop, I now have my own smartphone, tablet, Chromebook and desktop computer. Then a smartphone and a laptop for work.

Instant news informs non-stop, social media connects me with friends I’ve never met, YouTube has anything I could ever think of looking for, and now I can just ask a question out loud and my phone or laptop will give me the answer. Every song I have ever owned is available instantly, without the need for dusting or putting another shelf up. Everything – every single thing – is in a cloud somewhere, ready to appear on one of my myriad screens the moment I want it... or even before I realised I wanted it.

Amazing. The version of me with more hair who hasn’t hit 40 yet would be flabbergasted, and the 20-something me would be saying something like “Is it a bit like a fax machine, then?”

So why is it that so many of us are delighted but horrified at the same time? So much information. So many things to read, check, update, download, watch, schedule, edit, delete. So little... nothing. Lovely nothing, as in “Ooo – I’ve got nothing I need to do. I’ll just enjoy that for a bit whilst I gently contemplate my next move”.

Perhaps a Digital Detox is in order. Not a cold turkey, no screens at all affair – we’re all too far gone for that – but some rationing. A controlled withdrawal, limits on online, get out in the offline.

You never know; I might read an actual book, or just listen to a favourite album with my eyes closed. I could go out for a stroll. Wow. That all sounds rather brilliant, doesn’t it?

Hang on though – no amusing cat videos...

See you online.

This post first appeared as my "Thank grumpy it's Friday" column, in the North West Evening Mail, on the 17th of June 2016, where it was retitled as "What tangled web we weave".

I really struggled for an idea this time. However, when this one popped into my head there was no stopping it, and I exceeded the word count a fair bit by the time I was done. As the NWEM appear to have given up on updating the Opinion section on their website, this seems to be the only place you'll find a web-based version now.

You've got the full version here, which I edited down down before subbing. I know - aren't I good to you.

(Another break from the CD A-Z tonight, so I can listen to Coldplay's latest - A Head Full Of Dreams. Likin' it so far!)

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