Expand or Withdraw?

“Da-Dit-Da-Da, Da-Da-Dit-Da.” Today most folks (other than my sister-in-law who attended telegraph school) wouldn’t have a clue what that means. It’s not a hip-hop song or even a dance rhythm but rather the letters “C” and “Q” in International Morse Code. Those letters which are invitation to chat in Morse Code have been branded into my mind for fifty years.


As a young boy, I daydreamed about “escaping” my little world while trudging along my hometown daily newspaper route. Toward the end of my route was a house that was scary but also somewhat intriguing to me. It was quite forbidding and would remind you of the decrepit ramshackled house on the television show “The Munsters.” I could see strange flickering shadows and hear indistinguishable crackly sounds and voices from somewhere in the depth of the house. Occasionally, I would encounter the lone inhabitant and he was a sight to behold. He was rather hermit-like and unkempt with wild uncut silver-grey hair. He never tipped me or for that matter even said a friendly hello. Central casting would consider him a natural for a mad scientist role.


One dark snowy night this gent caught me spying through his window and gruffly invited me into the depths of his forbidding old home. My curiosity momentarily overcame my fears and I ventured into the unknown abyss. Stepping across that threshold changed my life.


It turned out that the flickering lights were multitudes of vacuum tubes powering untold numbers of shortwave radios bridging to a whole other world. I soon spent countless hours with him exploring the Voice of America, the British Broadcasting Company, and even “those Communists” at far off Radio Moscow. Soon every cent that didn’t go into a local pinball machine was accumulating to buy my own short wave radio kit. Once that was accomplished I started collecting “SWL cards” with strange postmarks from “the ends of the earth.” They confirmed I had heard a distant station from a far off country at such and such a time Greenwich Mean Time on such and such a frequency. Technology had expanded my world and given me a lust for more.


One-way communications can be frustrating to say the least. I soon discovered another gentleman with a tower similar to a larger version of a television antenna attached to his house. That was my introduction to the two-way communications called “Ham” (amateur) Radio. It was fascinating but required a license that was only attainable after mastering a Morse code test. Soon every spare hour that I didn’t spend reading or working was spent prepping for and eventually passing my test to become known as KN3ZZH. My world expanded another notch through this newfound technology. More importantly, a hunger was instilled to communicate with and hopefully meet these far off folks. Last year I actually had a flashback to these days of old when I got a chance to look down on the land of “Radio Moscow” while on a flight 39,000 feet high over Russia. I still long to experience those folks face to face.


Recently, while on a tour of the city of Halifax, N.S., the North American portal of the internet, I thought of the new fiber optic cables and satellite technology that blankets our world. It triggered thoughts of a new phenomenon in this technology saga. Many folks today have also captured a technology activated “vision” just as I did long ago. However, their vision has just the opposite effect. It seems that many are using technology as a means to isolate themselves from rather than pursue face to face social contacts. They hibernate behind hundreds of high definition channels, strikingly realistic interactive video games and infinitely expanding internet realms. I suspect these powerful technologies are being used as a means and justification for folks to become social recluses. A new breed of virtual social hermits has developed. They not only don’t want to interact with the world but they have also even withdrawn from their neighbors and family. Increasingly, I see cell phones used as a means to avoid face-to-face contact often within the boundaries of the same home. Even that cell phone contact has now been refined to include thousand of text messages and fewer and fewer actual voice contacts.


Technology is a blessing. It can be used to stimulate, aid, and expand our face-to-face relationships. Unfortunately, it also can be used to enable reclusive solitude as part of an artificial world without social risk. I am convinced that the effects of a personal heartfelt smile or a caring touch can never be replaced by any technology- nor should it be. Technology—either a relational tool or trap—it’s my choice.