top of page
  • damariszehner

Outsourcing Our Brains

Updated: Jan 31, 2020

Blog note: Thanks to all who contributed to the discussion forum on technology. For the next few weeks, I'd like to continue on this topic and hope you'll join in with your thoughts. You should know: recently a fellow blogger was impressed with my intelligent, thoughtful commenters -- that would be you!


Outsourcing Our Brains; or Thoughts on the Diminution of Natural Human Capacity through the Uncritical Adoption of Advanced Technology


Recently I gave a test in one of the English classes I teach at community college. Part of the test involved reading selections from five short pieces of literature and writing down the author and title to each. All five pieces were ones we had spent time on in class, and I chose very obvious passages from them to identify. The problem wasn’t identifying the passages. The problem was that not a single student had memorized the first and last names of five authors and the titles of their works.


Um . . .

I looked at what they had written in place of the complete name and title: a word or two, a last name with a question mark for the first name, names that started with the first letter but weren’t otherwise at all the same. And these were my best students. The ones who were struggling just left that page empty or drew emoticons in the answer blanks. What was going on here?


I realized that my students had learned exactly enough to type a search request into Google and most likely get the author and work they were looking for. They knew they couldn’t use the internet during the test; they are an honorable bunch with no intention of checking a cell phone under the table. So all I can conclude is that this is what memorization means now – the ability to find something on Google. We have outsourced our memories.


Well, so what? Socrates objected to the use of writing over two thousand years ago because he thought it would make us stupider and damage our memories. Of course there have been plenty of smart people since then. (In Socrates’ defense, while writing didn’t make us stupider, it did damage our memories.) I will, however, continue to write, because what I lose in my own mental capacity I gain in the volume and accuracy of the information I am able to deal with. People defend the internet – and cars, and forklifts, and food processors – in the same way: that these are worthwhile technological trade-offs. So my concern here is not a question of technology versus no technology. I love the written word, and I’m also very happy I don’t have to walk fifteen miles to work every day. But at what point do we outsource too much of our innate humanity to technology and end up damaging ourselves and our culture?


There are many signs that in our use of electronic technology we’ve reached the point of damage in the physical realm. Our bodies have suffered from our reliance on increasingly efficient technologies, whether we’re talking about developing an embolism from sitting on an airplane or in front of a computer game too long or just being a little overweight because we no longer walk anywhere. I contend that we are reaching that point in the intellectual realm, too – when to know something means to be able to type, click, skim, and forget.

Many people hold that it’s worthwhile outsourcing our memories to Google if it means we have so much more at our fingertips than we would otherwise. (Although do we even know how much we could carry around in our heads – we, who can’t memorize our own cell phone numbers because we have them on our phone and don’t need to? We may be giving up more than we think.) But I have two – actually three – caveats about outsourcing our memories.


First, are the technologies we are yielding our capacities to, and the organizations that control those technologies, really on our side? Do Google and Apple and Microsoft want us to be the best people we can be? Will they discontinue any technology that is found to be harmful, even if consumers still seem to want to buy it? Call me cynical, but I don’t think so. I’m not saying they are part of a vast conspiracy to rob us of our brains; they just want to make money and to grow. These corporations don’t need to conspire, after all, because we are all cooperating with them in this great outsourcing experiment. So no conspiracy — although I admit, in my darker hours, parallels with the Opium Wars come to mind.


This great outsourcing experiment

Second, are these technologies we rely on so heavily even permanent? Can we count on our children and grandchildren being able to access our accumulated wisdom through the internet? People used to rely on their memories and then on writing. I know by heart songs that have been around for centuries and can teach them to others, for example, and I own books that are more than 150 years old and can still read them and pass them on to my kids. But the computer games that my children adored twenty years ago are gone forever. Will the internet in its current form be around in 150 years? Again, I don’t think so. The internet is amazing, but it is fragile. Think of the supply chains necessary for you to read a Wikipedia article, from mining the rare metals for the computers and smart phones, through the delivery to consumers by means of nonrenewable fossil fuels, to the reliability of satellites in increasingly crowded orbits. Think of the environmental and economic costs along the way. Think of the political costs, too, of information so freely available – and so able to be tampered with by those who would like reality to be other than it is. If we are going to outsource an innate human capacity, should we be outsourcing it to such a vulnerable technology?


A durable technology

Third – and this should probably be first – by relying on these external technologies, are we shaping ourselves into the kind of people we are intended to be? Are we fully preparing ourselves for the real world and our role in it? There may be times we actually need to remember. We may need to have a map in our heads when we drive beyond a cellphone signal, for example. But we can anticipate more drastic circumstances than just driving in the boondocks. All religious traditions, as well as our experience and history, promise us suffering in this life. We notice, when considering that history, that people who suffered relied on what they remembered for comfort and inspiration – what they carried around in their actual, physical brains: scripture, songs, stories, and sayings that were a help to them. My students, even those raised in a religious tradition, don’t have any of those things stored in their heads. They don’t know stories or hymns, they are unfamiliar with their mothers and fathers in their faith, and they couldn’t recite a creed if you paid them.


I worry about them, about how they will manage now and in the future. Most of them get restless and anxious when they’re asked not to check their cell phones or computers for an hour and a half, which is reasonable if they are being asked to do without their memories for that long. I wouldn’t want to have amnesia, either. But if they have a hard time left to their own devices for a class period, what would they do if they were in a prison camp for a decade? Or in a more likely scenario, if they had a prolonged power outage – not a far-fetched concern, as Hurricane Sandy and Puerto Rico sin luz have shown us. But we don’t even need to look at disasters to anticipate a failure of stored memory capacity; they couldn’t memorize five names and titles for a test they knew about and had days to study for.


Durable and sustainable.

We don’t have to accept inventions mindlessly. We can ask ourselves what is good. If our bodies get flabby because we do too little physical work, we can reorganize our lives to walk more and exercise more. If our brains get flabby because we do too little mental work, we can reclaim the intellectual skills of the past. We have a great capacity for healing, both in body and in mind, and can rise to the challenge. We just have to know what is right for us as human beings and then live that way – “just” that, as if it were easy! If only there were an app for that.

125 views10 comments

Recent Posts

See All

Normal

10 komentarzy


sschristiane
23 sie 2019

"I am living in the Google years, no question of that. And there are advantages to it.

When you forget something, you can whip out your iPhone and go to Google.

The Senior Moment has become the Google moment, and it has a much nicer, hipper, younger, more contemporary sound, doesn’t it? By handling the obligations of the search mechanism, you almost prove you can keep up. You can delude yourself that no one at the table thinks of you as a geezer.

And finding the missing bit is so quick. There’s none of the nightmare of the true Senior moment - the long search for the answer, the guessing, the self-recrimination, the head-slapping mystification, the frustrated…


Polub

awilliam
19 sie 2019

> [writing] I gain in the volume and accuracy of the information the volume and > accuracy of the information I am able to deal with


This. And this may be the tell. If one has, or recognizes as such, problems too complex and nuances to deal with in-memory then one becomes a memorizer and a note-taker/writer. But without that recognition or urgency the need to handle information so s-l-o-w-ly just isn't there.


> I’m also very happy I don’t have to walk fifteen miles to work every day


Agree, no more than 2 miles.


> But at what point do we outsource too much of our innate humanity to

> technology and end up damaging ourselves and our culture?


Polub

integrityoflife
18 sie 2019

Brilliant thoughts, sschristiane. I do think there is something to the concept of genetic memory, whatever exactly it is. And there is certainly something ultimately humanizing about stories, which develop empathy and the moral imagination, pass on the truths of a culture, and bind generations to the past and the future. (I'll be writing more about that in the future!)


tpthoman, thanks for your generational insight. I'm also too likely to go to a computer search to validate a point. Partly that is my own laziness, but I think it's also because most of the people I debate won't believe something unless it appears on the internet. That's a hard tendency to fight. I insist that my freshman composition stud…


Polub

sschristiane
18 sie 2019

a thought about 'memory', and this is from my youth, when I studied languages at university and in prep school:


the night before class, just before going to sleep, I would carefully look at the vocabulary I was attempting to master. I would do this slowly and deliberately, looking at the word and saying it out loud, and going on to the next word or phrase . . . .


sometimes, in the mornings, I woke up knowing the vocabulary . . . maybe not all of it, but certainly something had gone on during sleep that worked for me when the last thing I did before falling asleep was to examine those words/phrases


of course, I don't 'understand' this,…

Polub

sschristiane
18 sie 2019

reminded of the great Sagas of Iceland that were MEMORIZED and handed down orally . . . long, lengthy 'stories' of human deeds . . . . . and that the memorization was thought to be an act of greatness, of strength of mind


I don't worry about 'loss' of 'memory' though, so much as I fear that we no longer want to hear 'the Story' . . . here is something I wrote about recently, this:


"yes . . . 'some ancient myth', I also have thought much about this.

Maybe there really IS such a thing as a ‘genetic memory’ . . . . humankind seems to have some universal needs that are ‘shared’ among us, we do…

Polub
bottom of page