This article was first published in the July 2015 issue of WIRED magazine. Be the first to read WIRED's articles in print before they're posted online, and get your hands on loads of additional content by subscribing online
There's a paradox associated with technology: the more connected we get, the less in touch with the physical world we become. For better or worse -- and it can sometimes be both -- technology adds an abstraction layer between the natural world and a person. The Polynesians and Vikings sailed across entire oceans in small boats without GPS or maps. Now, most people can't read a map and many have trouble following road signs. Some people even turn the wrong way down a one-way street or drive off a cliff simply because the navigation system told them to do so.
The more data we attempt to assimilate, the deeper we wade into this abyss. Activity trackers tell us when we have hit our daily activity and calorie goals, timers and automated cooking systems alert us when our food is done and computers do our calculations -- and increasingly our thinking -- for us. Every step, spoonful and click leads us down a distinctly different path than if we watched the food brown, felt when our stomachs are full or tuned into our breathing or fatigue level and used these as a guide for exercise.
The irony? We're not necessarily better runners, drivers, sailors and chefs -- and, at an aggregate level, we're certainly not any fitter or healthier than our grandparents. In fact, all evidence points to the contrary. Increasingly, we depend on data points instead of senses and perceptions to define what is going on around, among and inside us. Within this framework, a greater number of data points often translates into a lack of knowledge and greater confusion.
The evidence is everywhere. We now wade through food-ingredient lists that require an advanced chemistry degree to understand. This makes it much easier for companies and marketers to feed off the confusion and concoct products, slogans and terms that sound great but don't deliver nutritional value. Similarly, the overload of data -- particularly research about health and wellness -- spawns ever-growing confusion about what's beneficial and what isn't so good. Amid all the confusion, we throw up our hands and give up.
Sometimes, the solution also becomes a new problem. Rangers and rescue teams report that the number of people heading into the wilderness with inadequate equipment, food and supplies has steadily risen since the introduction of the mobile phone. When people get into trouble, they simply call for help -- if the phone can grab a signal. Some have also posited that we worry less about diet and overall wellness because we believe that technology will somehow save us. Diabetes or high blood pressure? There's a pill for that. Clogged artery or bad organ? There's a procedure for that. Soon, we'll have 3D-printed organs to replace the no-longer-functioning natural organ.
The ultimate question is whether trillions of connected devices that can peer into every nook and cranny -- and see between the spaces that are invisible to the human eye – will actually create greater insight and knowledge or further disassociate humans from their planet. At a certain point, when increasingly smart devices and machines are assigned tasks that humans handle, we are at risk of losing knowledge about the most basic things: how to grow food, how to travel from A to B, and how to build shelter and keep ourselves warm. As long as we have machines, we're fine. But if they go away, it could be the start of a long, cold winter.
This article was originally published by WIRED UK
