Face-to face human interaction isn’t a complex idea. But it’s no secret that our lives have been invaded by a sea of pods and their glazed eyed devotees. Conversations are punctuated by glances at our iPhones, Samsungs or hey, whatever device you chose to hold your life secrets— I’m writing this on an iPad whilst conversing with a friend on her laptop.
“Connected” has never meant more than it does today. We speak across the globe through a screen, but increasingly find it difficult to shout across a room. The tete-a-tete is a dying breed. Because let’s be honest, even when sharing a drink and a chat, our thoughts are still on the screen; the moment they flash, so do our eyes.
Scientists have noted that with every text message ping, the brain releases endorphins to give you a momentary high; once we get it we naturally want more. On the surface it’s a lovely thought—lets all text our friends more and get high together, but what about the endorphin reward from hearing them say those things to you face?
We’re so conditioned to communicate online, we’ve become these incredible outgoing, outspoken people behind a screen. But why can’t we comfortably communicate with shields down and eyes locked?
To be clear I’m not there to preach, I am heavily reliant on my iPhone, as is my husband. Until recently we would come home from work and unwind in front of the TV with our phones in hand, but there was a tension and we couldn’t work out why. We like each others Instagram photos from the next room and followed news feeds without asking how each others day went. We spoke with our mouths whilst out fingers and eyes were in another world.
I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised to later read (on my iPhone) that people with iPads have less sex—thank god this thing is borrowed—they’re the ultimate wi-fi enabled cock block.
But placing even sex and intimacy aside, the realisation that I trawl through pages of beautiful things and miss those right here scares me.
My solution? I started reading. Not self help books, not Me, my iPad and My Other Boyfriend or Reality For Dummies but books that spark my imagination and give me something to really talk about. My husband and I have a new bedtime rule: no phones, no Breaking Bad, just a book. We read to one another each night. It sounds so simple and you’re probably going, “Duuuuur Leah” but somehow it took me this long to work it out and the results are mind blowing.
Who would have thought that one hour a day without a news feed or an episode of whatever we are hooked on could result in a healthier relationship. Those photos will be there tomorrow, god knows you know how to scroll; and hell I have Netflix, that shit ain’t going anywhere!
So go see a friend or partner and hang out, have nothing on the table but a glass of wine and your hands. If you’ll excuse me I’m gonna put this iPad away, mainly out of fear of never getting laid again.
Words by Leah Edmond
Illustration by Zoe Wonfor
