Life imitates the internet

Last Wednesday, as my husband and I went about our daily routines, we both noticed a lag in the Internet speed. I was doing some genealogy research upstairs in our house while he was working on finances in his lower level office. We simultaneously tried clearing website data and rebooting our devices. Nothing seemed to help. I reached out to a neighbor to ask if she was having trouble with our internet provider and she informed me of the tragedy unfolding in our nation’s Capitol Building. Networks were overwhelmed by the number of people trying to access news. I quickly bypassed feeling frustrated and went straight to panic mode, not being able to access information in real time. Then I remembered that our TV runs on satellite, so I rushed to a news channel. I was horrified by what was happening, but at the same time, I felt placated knowing that I was plugged in again and receiving information.

The panic that I felt that afternoon was confirmation of my addiction to connectivity, whether it be access to news in real time; virtual relationships via texts, email or Facebook; instant answers using Google; impulse buying on Amazon; or wasting time playing online games or browsing Pinterest. I’m hooked and I don’t think I’m alone. I can only imagine how Trump, who has tweeted over 34,000 times since June 2015, must feel without access to his platform of choice.

I’ve read and written a lot this year about manipulation by the media, especially social media, of our feelings and belief systems. I understand how it works — how it has the power to elevate my blood pressure when I read an outright false political post; sadden me when I “overhear” a heated online exchange between friends; depress me when I read the latest COVID statistics; convince me of what I already believe is true — and yet I keep going back for more.

A reader of this blog and a Facebook friend, introduced me to the concept of Online Disinhibition Effect/Phenomenon (O.D.E.) and the field of cyberpsychology. (Yes, there is such a thing!) In an online post yesterday he said: “I am worried that life has begun to imitate Facebook, and in that sense Facebook can be a great evil by providing the number 1 incentive to the Online Disinhibition Phenomenon: People feel free to express any damn thing they want to even if it messes with their ordinary civility. Then that phenomenon just transmogrifies into real action.”

Could O.D.E, which has the power to shape our online behavior, really impact how we behave offline? I did what any curious, online addict would do: I turned to the internet to understand the dynamics behind O.D.E. As I understand it, when we interact eyeball to eyeball in real time, we receive immediate subtle feedback from the other person that inhibits or shapes our behavior according to accepted social norms. Short of interaction with eye contact, even phone conversations provide useful voice inflection cues that let us know when we are crossing the line. In contrast, online communication is often uncharacteristically bold, as we feel invisible and can always retreat behind “that was not my intent” or “you misread my tone.” Online communication tends to be more impulsive with little time for reflection or self-censure. My friend is right. We can say whatever crosses our minds in the moment without regard for social consequences. The worse that can happen online is that we are temporarily banned from the in-crowd until our followers dash off to the next post.

We are spending more time online than ever before. Experts estimated that pre-pandemic, the average person was online 2 to 6 hours per day. If we have an online persona, as O.D.E. would suggest, and if we are spending more time than ever in that alternative reality, we may be inching across the line from a society guard-railed by the social norms of in-person interaction to a culture where there is little regard for our effect on others. If there are no limits to what is acceptable to say to each other online — and there are numerous recent examples of that — is it conceivable that we will soon feel freer to break social norms in person, too? The chilling events of January 6 point to that frightening possibility. The technology, designed to connect us, may eventually be the very force that helps tear us apart.