Only One Thing at a Time, Please
An interesting person passed away recently, and I regret not meeting him or hearing him speak. Clifford Nass was a scholar of multitasking, according to the obituary by Steve Chawkins that appeared in the November 9th issue of The Washington Post. He died at the tender age of fifty-five, and no doubt his students at Stanford will miss him. But the world will miss him even more, because we’ll never know his final verdict on the interaction between humans and computers.
When he first beheld students at Stanford doing three or four things at once, he was intrigued. Could this be the future? Could he adapt to it? His subsequent research suggested that it could indeed be the wave of the future; but it could very well be a future we may not want.
The conclusions of his research were succinct and startling. The apparently brilliant multitaskers at their computers “were terrible at various cognitive chores such as organizing information, switching between tasks and discerning significance.” “We could essentially be undermining the thinking ability of our society,” he concluded.
That synopsis scarcely does justice to Nass’s work. But if you’re hungry for more, read his book, The Man Who Lied to His Laptop. And it’s that title that stirred some soul-searching on my attitude toward technology and the brave new world of electronic “people.”
Last week I got into a big argument with a computer, and I lost. I had gotten a nice personal letter from a computer at the health insurance company, asking that I give them a call to discuss a billing. “How hard can that be?” I thought to myself. Well, it turned out to be harder than I ever imagined.
For starters, the menu of options that the tech-voice gave me did not include “If we asked you to call us, please press ten now.” No, it was more along the lines of that playful 911 recording that offered this range of choices: “If you’d like to report a regicide, please press one. If you’d like to report an embezzlement, press two. If you’d like to report a case of blackmail, press three.” But nothing about traffic accidents or “burglars in your house even as we speak.”
It wasn’t long before I’d gone through a succession of ranked choices, and with each new set I got madder and madder. Finally, I did what any sensible human should do in this situation. I started shouting and yelling. But all that did was to elicit a very pleasant (though I thought sarcastic) “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.” That happened four times before it switched from a masculine to a feminine voice which asked what the issue might be. But the voice was so nice that I began to be suspicious. Might this be an artificial voice as well? “I assure you, sir, I’m real; which is why I gave you my name.” I guess I hadn’t caught that, maybe because I know several computers who have names.
Anyway, I told her about the letter asking me to call, and here I was. To my feigned horror, as well as complete lack of surprise, this was her God’s-honest-truth reply: “I’m sorry, sir. But our billing computer is down this morning. Can you call back this afternoon?” “Maybe. Better yet, why don’t you call me when everything gets up to snuff in the computer department. Have a nice day, and I hope your computer gets well soon” were my sign-off words.
I don’t know what technology has done for you lately, but it’s done great things for me. It’s given me instant access to information. It’s kept me from being hopelessly lost while driving at night in a big city. And it’s helped me find good deals on air fares. It’s also made me irate, and left me feeling chained to the computer with two hundred emails that need a response asap. And trying to juggle all that has left me crazy at times, just as Nass suggested it might do. Should life be this way?
In more tranquil moments, I realize that life need not be this way. One need not live a frenetic existence in which computer programs dictate your life. In fact, we can and ought to take ownership of our lives, before we lose them.
In his Rule Saint Benedict asks monks to do a lot of very different things, but he doesn’t ask us to do them all at the same time. In fact, he creates neat compartments in the daily schedule in which things should be done. For example, monks should spend a specific time in church, but when they’re done, they should get out and get on with the next task. Nor does he suggest that we read the newspaper during dinner. And work itself should be an exercise in concentration. We know what happened when copyists in those medieval scriptoria let their minds wander when they wrote. Mistakes happened, and sometimes they were big mistakes.
Contrary to multitasking wisdom, Saint Benedict’s formula for life leads neither to wasted time nor to lost opportunities. In fact, his recipe quite possibly leads to greater efficiency and a much higher quality of product. Perhaps that’s why he marked off separate and distinct times for praying and eating and working and reading. Given those doses of intense concentration, perhaps the mind can flourish far better than when we multitask.
As for me, I now see more clearly some of the choices I have to make. For one thing, it’s folly to keep having arguments with a computer. All I do is lose control and yell. That’s why I’ve decided that the next time I meet an obtuse computer, I’m going to be the one having the fun. I may just ask what might be its favorite color. I might ask how the weather is where it is. And when the answer fails to satisfy me, I’ll respond that I don’t understand the answer. And maybe, just maybe, I’ll offer to connect it to my own computer. Then there’ll be a true meeting of minds. Or not.
I also now realize the foolishness of treating a computer as if it were an equal. Nor should I put it on a pedestal as if it were some god. I know from experience that the health company’s computer had clay feet, just as did the ancient Roman gods. Had it had keener intelligence, it would have known already that the billing computer was down for the day. Had it been more mature, it would have appreciated the irony of that. Had it been human, it would have chuckled along with me.
Notes
+On November 11th I presided and preached at the Mass for the School of Theology at Saint John’s University. Earlier that morning I was among a small group of monks who witnessed the oblation of a good friend who made promises as an oblate of Saint John’s Abbey. While not members of the Abbey, oblates promise to incorporate the values of the Rule of Saint Benedict into their lives, and attend periodic retreats and other events at the Abbey.
+On November 14th I was in San Francisco, where President Michael Hemesath and I hosted an evening event for Friends and Alumni of Saint John’s University.
+On November 15th I participated in a memorial service for the brother of a close friend of mine. The service took place in Sunnyvale, CA.
+On November 16th I presided and preached at the Mass of Religious Profession for Fra Carl Noelke, KJ. Sandwiched into the liturgy were two very lengthy and ancient rites that first dubbed Fra Carl a knight in the Order of Malta, and then witnessed his vows of poverty, chastity and obedience. In addition to the pictures in this post, you can see other pictures in the sermon that I delivered that day: Speak, Lord. Your Servant is Listening.
+Dr. Michael Hemesath, the president of Saint John’s University, writes a blog that gives periodic — and brief — reflections on the value of a liberal arts education. More specifically, he addresses the residential, liberal arts, Catholic and Benedictine character of Saint John’s. In a recent post he considered the theme of career adaptability, and the importance of planning for a career, rather than just for the first job. As an example, he cited Marine Captain Garrett Litfin, who graduated from Saint John’s in 2003. When he left Saint John’s to take on his first job, Garrett definitely had not planned to pilot the helicopter that flies the president of the United States to and from the White House. To read or receive Michael’s postings, visit Q136, which happens to be his office number at Saint John’s.
+The first six photos in today’s post are from the facades of buildings in Amsterdam. There is huge variety there, with surprises at every turn.
A Monk's Chronicle 