Future Narrative #10 - Social Contact Decline
Last year we explored the future of technology in the Stirling area with start-ups, destination management organisations, and university students, who came together to explore technology trends. This story came from an event with Travel Tech for Scotland and Stirling Code Base as part of the tech scaler programme. We used the three horizons approach to explore the weight of the past, push of the present and pull of the future and create future narratives for 10 years into the future about tourism in Stirling. This story came from that workshop, exploring what happens when a person gets too immersed in a digital world, and how she can call pull herself back to a tangible reality in 2032 Scotland.
Illustrated by Cat O’Neil and written by Máire Ryan.
Social Contact Decline - Illustrated by Cat O’Neill
Cynthia would often glibly remark that she was perfectly comfortable in her existential crisis. Within her bustling urban environment, Cynthia’s life operated on a higher plane, she felt, revolving (with laudable efficiency) around the digital space. Proudly tech-literate and always hungry for new hardware, sating this hunger through pursuing the newest releases of virtual reality headsets and augmented reality goggles. In line with society, Cynthia explored optimisation (both professionally and socially), reaping its benefits in all compartments of her day. Utilising the digital dimension, as vast as it was immersive, dictated her conversations and relationships. Her perception of Self had become entirely ephemeral. Reality would only return on the occasions that Cynthia, so wrapped up crushing in the digital to-do list, would forget that she needed to breathe.
It was only in the deathly quiet moments: the achingly long time it took to recharge her hardware, or when a natural lull in appointments bubbled to the surface, that Cynthia’s growing unease would make itself known. Like the early rumbles which herald an electric storm, at first low, and then closer, louder, less easy to ignore. There was a tug in her, pulling her towards the tactile experiences of the real world. The sensory pleasures of a tickling breeze, the fibroses of a handwritten letter, or the soul soothing mouthfeel of a home-cooked meal were becoming more enticing by the day. Somewhat easy to bat away at first. Not so much the fading memory of how a smile wrinkles the corner of a person’s eyes. The zing of a strong handshake. Cynthia began to remember an iteration of herself where she was entirely tactile. The cold, plastic coating of her VR–humming contentedly away in the corner of her apartment reserved for her devices–only reflected light, because it couldn’t convert it into raw emotion. To lift it was to receive the resistance of the synthetic; the device wouldn’t organically fold itself to meet Cynthia’s touch.
Slowly–and on the downlow, so as not to be flagged for rejecting progress–Cynthia began to pursue tangible experiences. She stumbled upon an online platform, tailored (as everything was, meticulously so) to match reality-hungry individuals with “real-world adventures”. The programme had already quantified Cynthia’s person: her deep-rooted fascination with crime mysteries; her frequent forays into mythology; her longing for auburn hair, and concluded that Scotland beckoned. The allure of its rugged landscapes, ancient fortresses, and tales steeped in rumour was irresistible.
Feet planted firmly on Scottish soil, Cynthia initially felt less reality than when she was plugged into her headset at home. Utilising the bravery with which she had conquered the digital sphere, Cynthia began to venture into local eateries, savouring traditional dishes. She took herself up hills to gladly face the lashings of peculiar, sideways rain. More than once, she found herself playing detective, diving into local legends and unravelling mysteries.
These moments, raw and genuine, offered a depth that her digital encounters often lacked. While the latter offered convenience, the former provided richness and depth. Cynthia learned to oscillate between the two realms: her sharpened perception (courtesy of reality) affording her renewed vision. The tangible augmented the digital.
On her first day in reality, Cynthia would often recall, her tour guide offered a hand in greeting. Inhaling deeply, Cynthia extended her own. As the two shook cordially, a lovely crumple of kindness formed next to the guide’s right eye. That’s better, thought Cynthia. She breathed out.
Provocation Questions
Do you think we are at risk of falling too far into the digital world?
Do you think the benefits of virtual travel outweigh the risks?
What experiences have you had that pull you to the physical world?
Do you ever feel the push of the present toward a digital detox?