Us Under New Technological Progress

Two years ago, my phone was a MOTO Z3 with a 20-yuan Dynamic Zone plan—only 30MB of data per month. By the end of the month, I usually had over ten MB left and felt very satisfied. In 2010, I switched to a Windows Mobile phone. The screen got bigger and pictures were clearer, but 30MB wasn’t enough, so I spent another 10 yuan to upgrade to 100MB per month. I still had data left each month and felt quite content. Later I switched to a China Unicom 3G number, and my monthly data jumped to 300MB. Although the phone was still running WM, the experience changed because the base conditions were different—I could do more things, and 300MB barely lasted the month. Now, although I haven’t changed phones, I flashed it to Android. It’s fast, smooth, and has rich apps. Compared to Android, WM feels like an aging ox, so I completely gave up the idea of flashing back to the original system. However, after using it for two consecutive months, I exceeded my data limit every month. I feel that under new technological progress, we keep becoming slaves to technology—whether actively or passively. Our desires are controlled by the operators. The more data they give you, the more you can experience. But looking back, we used to be more satisfied. So from time to time, I miss the era of color screen phones, even black-and-white screens. Back then, phones were purely for chatting and communication. We only made calls when necessary, unlike today when we silently stare at screens whether eating, walking, or sleeping. Admittedly, there are many more ways to communicate now—Weibo, WeChat, QQ—but are we happier than in the black-and-white era? I don’t think so. Phone apps have turned everyone into a broadcast station. Every moment we want to say something, but very few people are tuned to the same frequency. Yet we’d rather let information flood than admit our loneliness. We keep posting updates for people we’ve never met, but we still won’t lift our heads to talk to the person across the dinner table. Eating alone really is lonely.

Technological progress is never a bad thing, but we must be careful not to lose ourselves in it. The British TV series Black Mirror, though only three episodes, each feels like a technological parable. I especially like the third episode because I once fantasized about Sheldon’s high-definition memory implant—storing every formula and scene I see in my brain so I wouldn’t need to read or think. I could just retrieve knowledge when needed. But when I saw the male lead digging out the implanted storage device from his body, my unrealistic fantasy was shattered. See, foolish humans—technology without moral distinction brings convenience but also side effects. We don’t need to remember everything we see and hear. Some illusions and lies won’t destroy life; on the contrary, they help things go smoothly.

If I had to choose one point as humanity’s eternal state, I would definitely choose now. I’m also not interested in humanity’s technological level fifty or sixty years from now. All of this is because I live in the present with an unknowable future. I just want to live well in the now and not be troubled by technology.