The Human Limits of Internet
As the Internet creeps further and further into our every interaction, more and more humans are seeking analog traditions — live music, camping, movie theaters, farmers’ markets, physical books, vintage cars.
The reason is simple: more Internet = more IRL … or go insane.
Let’s unravel the Internet-IRL paradox, and determine how we — as stewards of the most complicated economic development in the history of all things — can calibrate a healthy balance between pixels and atoms.
(h/t james barlow for coining the p&a term).
Internet usage is reaching diminishing returns
People crave offline experiences. Look around, and you’ll notice it too.
I’ve seen a young french couple reading a paper travel guide on the Tokyo Metro. 20-somethings reading books on the NYC subway. Teenagers attending galleries to admire sculptures. Young parents capturing iconic moments with disposable cameras.
I’ve seen viral social posts rejecting urban minimalism — praising the grandeur of ancient Greco-Roman architecture as an exemplar of a better society.
I’ve concluded: the greatest thing standing in the way of accelerated technological innovation for humans is… well… humans.
We are imperfect. We possess wants and needs that are impervious to market idealism. There’s no economic or technological validation to explain why independent bookstores expanded in 2023. You cannot rationally predict why Salomon trainers are trendy in 2024. And that’s both a good and bad thing. Depending on how you look at it.
In an era of “terminal onlineness”, immeasurable Earthly imperfections, moments away from screens, are considerably more precious than ever before.
The digital world is intimidatingly vast, endless, unknowable, with infinite generative qualities, whereas our physical world (Earth) is relatively fixed and finite, and perhaps, because of that, priceless.
A transitory world with unlimited potential. A sensory world with physical limits. Both have the potential to be seductive.
Imagine an extremely famous person. Let’s say, a billionaire with 70 million social followers. On the Internet, they are practically invincible. Their status can open any door; they can reach millions in seconds. Now place that same billionaire in the middle of the wilderness. When you take away the Internet, our material accomplishments become second to nature.
We are misled by an idealization of the past
As someone who often romanticizes past lives, I can relate to the “nostalgiacore”. I’ve always enjoyed classic films, music, literature. And it’s tempting to yearn for a world without the Internet. To reflect on a simpler time, free from the noise of instant notifications and endless scrolling.
But is this generation really all that different? “What’s new” has always been rejected. Let’s use music as an example.
Classical composers like Wagner were notoriously provocative. Stravinsky incited riots. Early jazz musicians like Duke Ellington was seen as primitive and hated by traditionalists like John Phillip Sousa, who preferred a more refined sound in orchestral sheet music. In fact, Sousa rejected the phonograph and recorded music in its entirety.
In the 1950s, as many of us know, rock n’ roll was perceived as unsophisticated — degenerate music reserved for punks and thugs. By the 70s, Disco was seen as commercial and shallow. Hip Hop was received in the 80s and 90s as a lower art form. In the 2000s, we all remember Eminem rapping “nobody listens to techno”, despite having been popular for over a decade.
One could argue (quite convincingly) how the rejection of new music may be a symptom of a broader decline in music quality over time in the post-industrial era. I reject that notion. I think where we’re at today in terms of music — the advent of new age electronic — is the inevitable product of everything that came before it.
While older styles like classical are still available to be performed and experienced, humans are naturally inclined to experiment and push creativity forward using the latest culture and tooling.
In fact, electronic music is may be so-much-so a product of everything that came before it that Jim Morrison (and many others) pretty eloquently predicted its eventual emergence over 50 years ago.
Delia Derbyshire was experimenting with electronic music at BBC Radiophonic in the 1960s too.
Looking back on human history with rose-tinted glasses is nothing new. The Romans worshipped the Ancient Greeks. America’s founding fathers emulated the Romans. Japan and China often idealize their ancient pasts. I could go on and on. It’s tempting to romanticize our predecessors — but progress is not linear.
Humans are rolling with the waves of societal development, adjusting and reacting in real time. We are where we are because of everything that came before us. And it’s always been that way.
The problem isn’t the internet
It’s a mischaracterization to blame the Internet for all our problems.
We’ve all seen its downsides. The 20-something doom-scrolling TikTok. The 30-something worker bee mindlessly playing Candy Crush on their morning commute and missing their stop. It’s easy to point fingers and declare tech execs the culprits for our collective ennui, but what solution does that offer?
It doesn’t explain how to end phone addiction, or more importantly, what we can do to reclaim a sense of balance in our digital lives. It fails to address the underlying issues that drive humans to overuse and abuse their shiny pocket gadgets. It fails to acknowledge the complexity of possessing unlimited digital access, the good and bad that global interconnectivity has brought to humanity.
Because it’s not all bad.
Technology has undoubtedly improved society — from communication and education to health and entertainment. That’s a fact that should not be overlooked, especially in the face of all the psychological damage that comes with confronting our Internet lives.
The real question isn’t whether technology is inherently good or bad — it comes down to how we utilize the magic zeros and ones. And it’s important to determine as a society whether we’re even capable of engaging with technology responsibly.
If we aren’t capable of controlling ourselves, how can we extract more of the good parts and leave the bad ones to die? How can society coexist with the Internet in a way that enhances our lives — without sacrificing the richness of the physical world? That’s what I’m after.
To get more online, we need more offline
My work and writing revolves around these key premises:
- Analog experiences are some of the best experiences. There’s something irreplaceable about physical interaction. Whether it’s the smell of a paperback book or the crackle of a vinyl record, these sensory moments ground us in ways that digital experiences simply cannot replicate. Let’s integrate more of these experiences into the modern world.
- Digital technology is inevitable. There’s no turning back. Technology will continue to evolve, and resisting it is futile. Instead of fighting its existence, we should focus on using it more mindfully and complementing it with premise #1.
- Digital technology is both improving and damaging our lives. It’s a double-edged sword. On the one hand, it’s making life more convenient and connected. On the other, it’s contributing to isolation, distraction, anxiety, and depression. The key is to identify when it’s enhancing our experience and when it’s detracting from it. How do we get more of the former?
- To enjoy more online, we need more offline. While digital interactions are important, they should never replace face-to-face human connections. We need to make a conscious effort to log off, look up, and engage with the people and places around us. There is a way to do that in harmony with the Internet.
Finding harmony in pixels and atoms
As an “innovation” focused agency, Supernova’s challenge moving forward is striking the balance between what came before us and what’s coming next. A balance between pixels and atoms. We are committed to preserving the sanctity of the best the past has to offer, and using the latest and greatest in technology to build off that in the future.
We need to appreciate and protect the physical world while making thoughtful use of the technology at our disposal. Supernova is built to empower analog experiences with digital tools and imbue digital experiences with the sensory memories of real life — this balance is where a better technological future truly shines.
Perpetual progress, mindfully
To use music as an example once more, study artists like Frank Zappa, Herbie Hancock, and David Byrne. These men constantly reinvented themselves throughout their career.
Herbie shaped his career during the Miles Davis/Coltrane bebop era. By the 80s, he was incorporating bleeding edge music technology to push the boundaries of what was possible in music with legendary hits like “Chameleon”.
You can see the video below of him playing a Farilight CMI Synthesizer in 1984.
Zappa also made extensive use of synth technology in the 80s, a long progression from his coming-of-age satirizing doo-wop music during the early 60s Beatles era.
David Byrne, a founding member of the Talking Heads, began his career during the emergence of alternative punk rock in the late 70s. By 2002, he was contributing to the electronic music scene in a meaningful way.
Each of these artists perfectly embody how one can preserve the sanctity of his or her art — while evolving with new forms of expression.
(side note, if you’re interested in the development of music, highly recommend reading Byrne’s “How Music Works”)
The balance between Internet and Pre-Internet, digital and analog, online and offline, isn’t about rejecting or withholding from new technology; it’s about reclaiming our agency within it. By choosing how we engage with both the digital and physical realms, we can ensure that technology remains a tool that enhances our life—rather than one that controls it.
Ultimately, the future of innovation won’t be determined by technology alone, but by how we, as human beings, choose to use it. Choose wisely.
