Recently, I had a great conversation with good friend David
Honigsberg as we sat in a Starbucks in Toronto, chugging back some coffee and
watching the world go by. Most people walked with iPhones or similar devices
glued to their hands; talking, texting or simply holding their precious cargo
like it meant the world to them. They’d be checking emails, updating their
Facebook page, talking with a friend, and surfing a favorite site.
I know…I
used to do the same thing. Until I gave
mine away.
After a whole suite of people had passed—virtually everyone
clutching their link to the world—David
and I turned to each other in synchronicity. I thought he was going to remark on humanity’s co-dependency with technology or our obsession with connecting, even if only superficially, with the world. But he opened a topic that had nothing to do with it; or did it?
and I turned to each other in synchronicity. I thought he was going to remark on humanity’s co-dependency with technology or our obsession with connecting, even if only superficially, with the world. But he opened a topic that had nothing to do with it; or did it?
He brought up the topic of anonymity. He’d recently written
to the National Post, a paper he esteems and highly respects, about their
apparent promotion of anonymous letters to the editor in the online version of
the newspaper vs. the print version, which requires a name and corresponding
contact information. Here’s his letter:
This brings up an interesting point about where we—and our news media—are headed. With virtually all communications going digital, individual and online (from books to news to movies), it is interesting to note how differently we treat the online, more easily accessed, cousins to the print versions.
Let me give you an example: I published my first ebook with
Liquid Silver in 2005 (when ebooks
weren’t that popular yet; the iPhone hadn’t
made its debut and the ebook industry was in a chaotic mess re formats and
devices). While “Collision with Paradise” (now re-issued with eXtasy Books
under Kate Wylde) was a hit with its few readers and was praised by Romantic
Times and Yet Another Book Review, it hadn’t sold more than a thousand copies.
Ebooks now outsell their print cousins 3:1 with sales in the hundreds of
thousands for any given title.
David Honigsberg |
Over the years I have observed a great difference in quality
between ebooks and their harder-to-get-published print books. And I know the
reason…
The easier something is to do or get, the less it will be
valued; the easier it is to communicate, the less likely it will have deep
meaning. Take the easy road, the slippery path, and you are sure to miss the view.
And isn’t that the very reason you were journeying in the first place?
Are we sacrificing the quality of our journey to reach our
destination, forgetting that the journey—living with meaning—is ‘part of that
destination’?
Texting every ten minutes. Updating your Twitter every hour.
Checking your Facebook page every few hours. Does that mean you are
communicating more?
I used to talk to a good friend almost every day. The chats
used to happen randomly but when we both had time to talk. We shared meaningful
things, what was important to each other’s life. We gave each other the gift of
time, compassion and understanding. Then as time passed, those calls became more routine and more rigidly
timed; while they occurred perhaps more often, the calls became shorter and
shorter, until soon nothing of meaning could be shared.
What does that have to do with anonymity? Everything.
When we do not cherish, preserve, and protect meaningful
communication, we give away our freedom to be the individuals we are. We throw
away our true gifts to the world. We turn into an anonymous society of
avatar-wannabes with no genuine identity; texting, chatting, surfing an
undifferentiated sea of information pixels.
If we do not say, “Here I am! This is what I believe!” those
very beliefs will eventually be taken from us. If it’s too easy, it won’t be
valued; if it isn’t valued, it will soon disappear altogether.
Anonymity is not the enabler of freedom of speech; it is its
harbinger of death.
Stand up and be counted. Or you will lose your most precious
thing: YOU.
Nina Munteanu is an
ecologist and internationally published author of novels, short stories and
essays. She coaches writers and teaches writing at George Brown College and the
University of Toronto. For more about Nina’s coaching & workshops visit www.ninamunteanu.me. Visit www.ninamunteanu.ca for more about her writing.
1 comment:
P.S.
David told me that the letter did not "air" on the Post. Well, it's airing here on Alien. :)
Thanks for writing it, David!
Best Wishes,
Nina
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