Technologies of the Self

 A few years ago, I was in a restaurant in Manhattan.  Nothing very special - it was my local, on the street where I'd rented a room.  And I was in there one evening, early evening.  The quiet lone man with a fat novel.  I made my order and was reading and waiting.  Chelsea is a good place for people-watching.   

A group of six young Asian women came in. I am not sure if the fact that they were women is pertinent, but I think it probably is.  They were out for a girls' meal and they were going to have a great time.  And this was grand.  What was odd - but it actually is no longer odd - is that the whole time they were in the  restaurant they were looking at their smartphones.  The whole time   And for long periods of time they were entirely silent, such was the rapt attention demanded and received by the little illuminated screens.  Every now and then, one would nudge her neighbour to show her something interesting she'd found or received, on her screen.   

Yes I know, I am now and I was then a middle aged man watching a group of  women in their 20s.  And yes, I will never attain the level of technophilia and social media savvy these women very likely possessed.  I won't say I was appalled at what I saw, as that would be so obvious.  But I was very struck.  I wanted to think: 'But they could be having a great ould natter, about food, men, work, life, clothes'.  And then I had to admit to myself: 'In fact they are having a great time.  This is now what having a great social evening looks like.  They will remember this evening as really fun'.   

I didn't get it. I don't get it.  There is something wrong here, something amiss.  

Here is Marianela D'Aprile, at Jacobin:

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Conor