Choosing teams in the digital age
mood: 
thoughtful
thoughtfulWith my 20th high school class reunion coming up this month, I'm thinking more about the unexpected dynamics of being in touch. When I grew up, there was little reason to expect that we'd one day have access to an almost immediate, almost universal electronic address book. There wasn't much reason to think of what keeping relationships over distance or time would look like—it'd probably be the same as our parents, concentrated locally and currently with a few ties farther out and farther behind. Even in the category of "current and local" we'd be understandably limited, so much so that we didn't even think of it as a limit at all.
Now I can seemingly "be in touch" with exponentially more people, in more ways and at more times. There's almost nowhere from which I can't make a phone call. Writing an email theoretically takes a few minutes with immediate delivery. Social networks keep me "connected" with hundreds if not thousands. And yet, there's no actual increase in capacity. Not only do I have the same number of hours in the day as my parents, but I also have the same relational limits—just because I have data and means to be in relationship with such a deep and wide field of people doesn't mean I really can. But it may seem as if I can, to me and to others.
Ultimately, that means making choices. Hardly a revolutionary realization, and yet I wonder if many of us realize we need to do so (and are doing so, in some way). If I'm going to be here now and not feel constantly fragmented, behind, and/or guilty, I have to choose. And beyond my own need to choose and have peace with those choices, there's also the question of how we relationally deal with the choices we individually must make.
No matter how we dress it up, we're more and more likely to find ourselves in situations painfully reminiscent of picking teams on a playground—I choose you; I don't choose you. The luxury of just dropping off of someone's radar is quickly vanishing, exposing the fact that's always been true: we make choices. Can we accept that from one another gracefully in relationship? That can be a steep hill to climb—not only do we have the "normal" feelings of loss, but we've also got the sensitivities and wounds from our pasts with which to contend. Again, while that's always been the case, we're losing much of the plausible deniability (on all sides) that used to help smooth the rough edges of stark reality.
This seems to be true until we hit a crisis, and then the almost impossible gaps of commonality between the other seem to diminish.
It's cliched today to say that the internet has led to shallower relationships. I think we all know that, but I doubt that we realize just how many ways it happens. Obviously, there's the phenomenon of "online friends", which has made it harder to go out and actually meet and interact with real life people in our day to day lives.
But, as you say, it really has raised expectations to unsustainable levels, in terms of those people that would have naturally come and gone from our lives. People say that it's "easy" to stay in touch, to remain friends. Well, no. It might in fact be easy to shoot off a two line email or poke someone of facebook, but that's not friendship. And when it becomes a duty, and leads to frustration or bitterness about the empty ritual of it all, it's the very antithesis of the thing.
Anyway, I've been thinking a lot about this very same issue, but have a hard time articulating it. It's always a pleasure to read your thoughts on these kinds of topics.
I believe deeper friendship now involves (potentially) telling a lot of people "no" and getting to "yes" with a smaller set, even for the most extraverted among us. But since this is so new, no one taught us this and we're not sure what we're doing wrong. Or maybe it's just me.
Way back in college I pledged to people that we would never become friends who just sent annual Christmas cards. Fast forward to 2008. We're scattered all over, I never call anyone but my mother and visiting friends is a rare luxury.
These days only people nearest and dearest get an actual paper Christmas card with a personal handwritten note in it. How did that happen?
Fortunately, Mike and I are have found that despite our habitual social slothiness, for certain people, the long absence doesn't seem to be an obstacle to enjoying each other's company.
and yet, then there are the people that i've met online that i really do hope to actually MEET someday, and get to know on a deeper level. like you and your lovely wife. and then there are people i've met online that i *have* met and have become some of my best friends.
but in the end, it's really easy to stay super surface-y with people and pretend we're all friends. which brings me back to the false intimacy comment.
Sure you have to make choices, but another thing is that even when you do choose, the other person has to reciprocate as well. Many a relationship has failed for me when I chose "yes" and they chose "no".
I think a lot of us have that struggle, and there seems to be no one to tell us things have changed. The "nos" often don't mean what they used to—they're just a byproduct of the illusion of increased capacity getting trumped by reality. That's a pretty big social adjustment.
Oh, and happy 30th!