The strangest thing happened to me the other night. I had trouble finding a parking spot at the Westfield Mall in Century City, and it didn’t bother me one bit. My friend and I were running late for a screening of “Past Lives” (don’t miss it), and normally, this kind of hassle would have made me a little cranky.
So why was I OK with turning around and around looking for a parking spot? Because I’ve been desperately looking for any sign these days that people are leaving their homes.
You see, ever since that dreaded COVID pandemic (remember that?), we’ve become more and more a nation of homebodies. Instead of venturing out and engaging with the world, it’s become way too easy to just stay home and let the world come to us. This kind of physical isolation should concern us, because I don’t see it getting any better.
Ever since that dreaded COVID pandemic (remember that?), we’ve become more and more a nation of homebodies. Instead of venturing out and engaging with the world, it’s become way too easy to just stay home and let the world come to us.
There’s hardly anything right now that won’t come to our homes, from ready dinners to great entertainment to groceries to appliances to classes to prayer services to our very jobs. The radical convenience of modern technology has empowered us to craft lives where we rarely have to bump into anyone.
There was a time, back in 2020, when this had a sense of exhilaration. A once-in-a-lifetime calamity had shut the world down, and the miracle of technology enabled us to weather the devastation by sheltering safely at home.
The problem is that habits die hard, and that includes new habits. The pandemic lockdowns lasted for so long that after nearly two years of cozy hibernation, many of us got a little too comfortable.
Indeed, a recent survey of 1,000 homeowners, conducted by the Research for Institute for Cooking and Kitchen Intelligence, found that 64% of respondents have a “greater desire” to stay home now than before the pandemic.
This shouldn’t surprise us. Human beings have always had two conflicting impulses — socializing versus sheltering. Socializing, as enjoyable and gratifying as it can be, demands effort. Staying at home is risk-free. It’s all comfort.
The lockdowns further reinforced the sheltering impulse by eliminating the factor of guilt. We were staying home, we told ourselves, because we had no choice but to protect our lives.
Well, that guilt is back. The “saving my life” excuse is gone. The choices are now coming at us fast. Should we go back to synagogue? Should we go out to the movies? Should we attend this or that event? Questions that used to be easy to answer are no longer that simple.
For those who love to socialize and won’t settle for virtual substitutes, the choice to go out is not only easy but welcomed. There is a thrill to connecting in person that is irreplaceable. I feel it often. Meeting in person and seeing crowds makes me feel more alive, more human; it crushes the solitary comfort of staying home.
It’s ironic that in the movie we saw that night, there was a dramatic demonstration of this very phenomenon. Technology went from being a miracle to a curse. Eventually, the characters realized there was simply no replacement for the primal, visceral satisfaction of meeting in person.
Mark down those two words. Engrave them in your consciousness. In person. The decline of in-person interactions may well be the silent curse of our time, an additional burden to our mental health crisis. We are in a battle with brilliant technologists who have an interest in keeping us at home, physically isolated.
And they’re not slowing down. As reported recently in The Atlantic, “The metaverse has leaped from science fiction and into our lives. Microsoft, Alibaba, and ByteDance, the parent company of TikTok, have all made significant investments in virtual and augmented reality.”
“Augmenting” our reality, of course, is the eternal promise of capitalism, fueled by the commercial interest to influence what we buy. When it’s for a cool jean or a fancy car, there isn’t much harm. Today, however, tech companies are after bigger game. They smell the profit in keeping us physically apart, alone in a virtual world they will deliver to us like a meal from Uber Eats.
But just as tech companies have the freedom to spring on us what they like, we also have the freedom to push back and say no. We have the freedom, in other words, to make our own choices.
One of the most life-affirming choices we can make these days is simply to say, “The hell with Postmates, Netflix, Zoom and Amazon. We’re going out.”
One of the most life-affirming choices we can make these days is simply to say, “The hell with Postmates, Netflix, Zoom and Amazon. We’re going out.”
Even if it’ll be hard to find parking.