Once upon a time, human relationships unfolded without smartphones. The reality may be hard to recall, so profoundly have these devices transformed the way we relate to the world and others in fifteen years or so.
As an anthropologist interested in modernity, I am particularly preoccupied by the impact of these devices on our conversations. In my book, The End of the Conversation? Words in a Spectral Wociety (French original: La fin de la conversation? La parole dans une société spectrale), I investigate the pernicious effects of this technology on our social fabric, and make a point of distinguishing conversation from communication.
Communication is not conversation
When I’m communicating, my relationship with another is usually mediated via a screen. Communication calls to mind notions of distance, physical absence, and by extension, frazzled attention. The age of communication induces feelings that everything is going too fast and we have no more time to ourselves. The next notification, message or call is always only a moment away, keeping us in a state of restless alertness.
Conversations, on the other hand, are often free. One chats while enjoying a stroll or meeting a new person, sharing words like one breaks bread. While communication does away with the body, conversation calls for mutual presence, attention to the other person’s face, their facial expressions and their gaze. Conversation is happy to accommodate silence, pauses and each person’s rhythm.
This is in contrast to communication, where any cut-off warrants a knee-jerk reaction: “We’ve been cut off”, “Are you there?” “I can’t hear you”, “I’ll call you back”. This isn’t an issue when conversing, because the other person’s face has never disappeared and it’s possible to be silent together in friendship, in complicity, to express a doubt or a thought. Silence in the course of a conversation allows us to breathe, while in the field of communication we would label it with words such as cut-off or breakdown.
A few months ago in Taipei, Taiwan, I was at a popular restaurant when a dozen people from the same family sat down at a table nearby. The youngest were 2 or 3 years old, while the oldest were in their 60s. Having barely glanced at the menu before ordering, their eyes rapidly proceeded to attach to their mobile phones. Barely uttering a word, they ate with their smartphones in hand. The only exception was the occasional tension between two of the children, who must have been 4 or 5 years old. They stayed for a good hour, exchanging little more than a few sentences, without really looking at each other.
The scene could have taken place in Strasbourg, Rome or New York, in any city in the world. Today it is commonplace. You only have to walk into a café or restaurant at random to see the same situation. The old family or friendly encounters are gradually disappearing, replaced by these new manners where we are together but separated from each other by screens, with the occasional smattering of words exchanged before returning to the tranquillity of our laptop. What’s the point of bothering with others, since a world of entertainment is immediately accessible, where we no longer have to make the effort to nurture relationships? Conversation becomes obsolete, useless and tedious, whereas the screen is a beautiful escape that doesn’t disappoint and that occupies time pleasantly.