How Not to Live Life Resting Gently on "Backspace"
- matthewparra19
- Dec 29, 2014
- 5 min read
My pinky is always at the ready.
Out of all the key strokes I perform, it is the one that takes the least conscious thought. There is something called procedural memory, which is employed for things like knowing how to play the guitar, or ride a scooter, or scoop peanut butter out of a jar in the black of night.
My ability to stretch my pinky finger in the direction of backspace and apply the right pressure to initiate its command is beyond the limitations of procedural memory. It is that keenly automated in this application.
Even when my pinky is doing important things like dividing thoughts with a semicolon or hitting the “P” key, it is in some fourth-dimensional-way always gently resting on backspace.
The human experience has not been the same ever since we made the step from typewriter to QWERTY-keyboard-style typing. I now have the power to make it so things never existed, with just a few subtle muscle contractions. Typing on computers enabled absolute editing—something we all wish we had the ability to do with our lives in the non-digital reality.
The troubling part is that many people have mistakenly come to think that we, the people, do have this power. The computer can do it, and the computer is only becoming an extension of the self, so we should be able to permanently erase things from existence as well, right?
The function of the backspace key has led to a quiet dissipation of accountability from our culture. It is now harder than ever to assume responsibility for things we created or were complicit in. Every time we hit that backspace key, we are being conditioned to believe that things can disappear, with the evidence right in front of our eyes. Who can blame us for thinking that all those things we cannot see will behave the same way if we will them to?
This is not meant to be an apology against change. I haven't a problem with moving forward from the past. People change like technology changes. Nothing is static. We do not have to always be who we were. We shouldn’t be. People are designed to change. If they are not changing, they are doing something wrong. Change, however, will never make what happened in the past go away. It only makes a person more equipped to respond to or accept that thing, especially when that thing was something that used to cause problems or tensions. Only computers can make things completely go away with such a grand finality.
We are not computers. We are better than computers.
We do not have to make things disappear, because instead, we can change. We can look back at the same thing and see something completely different. Isn’t that cool? Isn’t that better than making something disappear? We can see the same one thing as thousands of different things over the course of our lives, all depending on who we are when we look at it. We are the superior beings.
But many of us want to be computers, or worse, think we are. We think we can hit backspace on our lives. This confusion is damaging our society. It is causing people to think they do not need forgiveness or reconciliation, do not need to find peaceful relationships, do not need anyone other than themselves and anything besides this phantom power of backspace.
Nothing, however, can be undone.
Why, in the late 70s and early 80s, do we see such a surge in divorce rates, after they had been so constant for most of the 20th century? The number of divorced Americans goes from 58,000 in 1970 to 160,000 in 1985. Is it chance that this spike coincided with computers (and thus the backspace key) becoming popular in American homes? Probably.
BUT MAYBE… people have too easily come to believe that deletion via divorce is an answer to a problem, instead of going through the effort to change and actually answer the problem with their own volition. Maybe people think they can get rid of something the way the backspace key does.
Why, during the 70s and 80s, do we see such a leap in the percentage of Americans reporting as ‘non-religious’, after this number had stayed so constant from the inception of the United States through most of the 20th century? In 1970, that number was 3%-- roughly where it had been for all of the century—but today that number hovers near 15%. Is it chance that this spike coincided with computers becoming popular in American homes? There’s a good chance.
BUT MAYBE… people no longer feel a need for salvation, living under the pretense that their sins are forever gone if they can just be forgotten. Maybe people think they can get rid of something the way the backspace key does.
Why, after almost an eternity of obsolescence, do we see an explosion in the popularity of the name ‘Mason’ in America during the early 1980s? In 1970, 0.084 boys per every 1000 were named Mason. By 2011, that number had risen to 9.637 per 1000—greater than a 100-fold increase. Is it chance that this spike coincided with computers becoming popular in American homes? That is most likely the case.
BUT MAYBE… people think they can just change their minds after they give their son such a douchey name, and forget that this name will haunt the poor, hopeless child forever. Maybe they think you can just make a label like that disappear. Maybe they don’t realize it stays with you. Maybe they are unaware that there is no backspace for naming your kid Mason. Maybe people think they can get rid of something the way the backspace key does. (Apologies to anyone named Mason. I am sure both you and your parents are wonderful.)
If you do not trust these statistics, I don’t blame you. The sources are suspect, and the numbers are pretty loosely used. I was just trying to make a point. I’m not even sure I believe anything I just wrote. It is definitely just correlative. And I acknowledge the compounding variables that play into these trends. But I did not stoop so low as to make this stuff up. Look, I have sources. Very reliable sources. You can do real research yourself if you want.
So I am only asking one thing: please do not fall in love with backspace.
You can rest your pinky on it, but do not rest your life on it. You will end up divorcing your partner, losing faith in God, and naming your kid Mason. (Not necessarily in that order, but most likely in that order.)
Comments