Rollerbag Goddess Global Communications

I worked in tech startups for years, and one of the things that struck me when working on location was how the techies woke up and immediately looked at their laptops. The cultural difference was invisible to them, but to me it was shocking. Where I came from, mornings started with the clicks and purrs of the coffee machine, a barefoot walk in the backyard garden where dew stood in waiting on every leaf and blade of grass, a soft good morning murmured to the dogs and perhaps a belly scratch.

In the tech startup world, things were different. No stretching. No cup of coffee. No stepping into nature for a moment. The norm was to immediately consult technology.

This has now been normalized on a population-wide scale. Smartphones are almost required for daily if not hourly living. I look at mine within minutes of waking, every single day. I actually consult my laptop less than that these days, only when working on projects that require a larger screen or when sending long emails, but that doesn’t mean I’m better than a tech bro. We are all tethered to our technology around the clock.

The truth is, I hate this. I hate that I have to use a single machine for so many functions. I resent that every commercial enterprise wants me to download an app. I hate that I have WIFI and cell phone service almost everywhere in the world. I hate that the photos I take and the content I view are saved somewhere in the unseen places for all eternity for companies or the governments of the world to mine and determine who I am so they can pigeonhole or oppress me. I hate that I am funneled at every turn: funneled toward a point-of-purchase, funneled toward an ideology or flooded zone distraction, funneled toward fury about whatever the tech overlords have determined I am most likely to get triggered about.

More, with the advent of in-home/dash cams, tech assistants and AI in general, I hate that we have given in to a surveillance state without so much as a whimper. I read 1984 when I was 12. What George Orwell got wrong is that we welcomed Big Brother and his watchful eye with open arms, we even willingly finance it.

This is about more than travel. This is about our collective loss of humanity. And so as a human who has not yet surrendered their critical thinking skills, I am reflecting upon what this shift has given me and what it is sacrificing.

Technology has enabled me to travel the world with relative convenience. My smartphone lets me stay connected with the lovely people I have met around the world. I can pull up a map to see where I am in real time and find my way. I can stay informed about what is happening in the news minute by minute. I can check in for flights, text or call loved ones, take notes, check emails, work on projects and order things I need in a few clicks. I can hail a ride, grateful I won’t be ripped off by a cabbie. I can see a photo of my nieces in Italy or Malta within moments of its capture.

Sure, tech has its good points, but maybe it all comes down to this. I spend much of my life these days staring at screens, engaging with technology. But when I think about my happiest moments in life, not a single one of them happened while I was using my laptop or smartphone.

Yes, everything is optimized. If not for us, then for those who want our data so they can manipulate us. (So we can buy more, hate more, fear more, vote a certain way and get distracted from the things that are really happening or the internal work we should be doing to be better people.) Increasingly, I fear that smartphones are making us into stupid humans.

There is no going backwards. Systems have changed on such a fundamental level, eschewing these technologies would render most of us truly unable to function. While in San Diego recently, BackpackMr and I tried to find an actual newspaper (you know, the kind printed on paper) and shopkeepers laughed at us. I am not much for conspiracies, but I do believe the more control we surrender to technologies, the more we subject ourselves to disinformation, manipulation and social engineering. Yet we are forced and funneled into embracing the things that could very well destroy us. As someone who works in marketing, I am part of this hideous machine.

So, technology has its good points. And yet, I want less of THIS. What is the opposite of optimized? There is no word that captures the contented, less-tech-dependent but perhaps less convenient place I want to go. I want something suboptimal, but that word implies something is missing, and in my mind it would be more of what’s good.

I want fewer pings and more pleasure. Less once-removed communications punctuated by emojis and more face-to-face time with people I care about and their real emotions.

I want less cheap shit manufactured and sold and made obsolete as fast as possible and more carefully curated beautiful items made to last for life. I want fewer apps and software upgrades and push notifications, I am happy with what I have.

I want fewer deep fakes and more deep travel. I want less funnel and more forests–I hunger for the Big Nature we are, with casual cruelty, paving for data centers.

I long for a life free from the gaze of Flock and Ring and Google other Big Tech. I want to own what I pay for, to be able to touch it and use it and gaze upon it without a subscription or WIFI connection.

I want less optimization and more optimism. Less content and more contentment. Less artifice and more art. I want album covers and physical printed photos and original oil paintings from unknown artists and the words of real-life poets writing about the struggle and ecstasy of real life. I want cookbooks I can flip through in the evening, and novels where I can dog-ear the pages.

I want real food that grows from the ground and looks imperfect and maybe if I am lucky has a little dirt on it. I want less hustle and more humanity.

And I want to wake in the mornings to the click and purr of coffee being made, a sweet dog awaiting her morning belly rub, my eyes set upon the mountains in the distance which connected the earth and sky long ago and will outlive all of us and all of our fevered optimization.

I cannot cut it all out, obviously; you could not read this without the tech in the palm of your hand. And I don’t have all the answers. But I can make little choices every day that move me in that direction.

There is no word for where I am going next. Would you care to join me?

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