As we packed for our Thanksgiving trek to the family homestead last week, my son was stuffing his laptop into the suitcase when I pointed out that his aunt might not have WiFi access at her house. At first, he looked at me like I was speaking Russian. Then, as he grokked the concept, he looked at me as if he were being consigned to Siberia.
Age 17, he barely remembers a time when he couldn’t access the Internet from anywhere. Even I, who remembers dialing a rotary phone, have a hard time recalling how many phone calls and how much legwork was required when I first started working as a reporter in the 1980s. I couldn’t google a company to find the exact spelling of its corporate name, its location and a description of its product or service. I used to spend hours chasing down such basic information.
During our holiday, we drove through the sparse Kansas farmland in search of the town where my mother was born and raised. Ost, Kansas, consists of a handful of buildings dominated by St. Joseph’s Catholic Church and the parish school, which houses a total of 94 students in grades 1 through 12. We couldn’t remember exactly where Ost was, but trusted that if we got within a few miles we’d be able to spot the church steeple. No hills and very few trees make this wonderfully possible in the Sunflower State. Instead, my son whipped out his iPhone with GPS.
Problem solved. Adventure cut short.
I wonder what we are giving up when answers come so easily. In the past, it took discipline, planning, imagination and determination to track down a piece of information or to find a tiny town in the vast prairie. Today, it’s literally at our fingertips. There was courage, adventure, challenge and reward in the struggle to uncover a fact or solve a problem. Now, it’s tempting to give up if we can’t find an answer quickly and easily. Like the proverbial tree in the woods that makes no sound if no one’s there to hear it fall, what happens to information that’s not on Google? Will anyone be willing to hunt for answers? I fear we may just stop asking the questions. What an ironic side effect of the Information Age.
Postscript: Even if we are willing to hunt for answers, they may no longer be there because apparently no one’s preserving the archives of dying newspapers: http://www.walletpop.com/blog/2010/01/05/archives-in-peril-generations-of-history-gone-with-the-flip-of/