Museletter #18: Simulationships, Sept. 2009

 

Simulationships

is the body becoming obsolete?

 

My niece and nephew, twin toddlers, practically pee their pull-ups over the elaborate "kiddie" train ride at their local park, where there is also an Amtrak-like railcar projected ride called "The Simulator." On this day, perhaps because the twins had never been to the park with me or ridden the Simulator before, or because it was closed and had to be opened especially for us, the Simulator suddenly became the ride of choice.

 

We waited and waited for 10 whole minutes (two hours in toddler time) for the attendant to open the Simulator. Anticipation and crankiness mounted. I was excited and curious to see how it worked. I hoped it would remind me of the delightful, dizzying sensation of flying and floating amidst the stars in outer space at the Hayden Planetarium in my youth. But when the Simulator's big steel door finally opened and exposed a row of flimsy plastic seats and scrawny seatbelts, the whole gig felt claustrophobic. The twins did not want to stay for the ride. So it was off and out to the real "kiddie" train, with the real breeze creating a real whipping noise as it caught the little flags attached to each miniature cart, with a live conductor yelling "All Aboard."

 

The event made me think of relationships. (I know, for those who know me, everything makes me think of relationships). Technology provides us with many new ways to relate, and new beings to relate to. But there is a distinction between the relationships we have with real people in our lives, i.e., our parents, spouses, friends, nieces, therapist, or even the dry cleaner, and the simulationships we have with our online paramours and poker game partners. Simulationships do not start with, and may never include, an actual body. They occur either onscreen between two people, or between one person and a computer generated being.

 

Technology makes it so easy to reach out and touch someone that I fear actual face-to-face contact as an essential aspect of intimacy is becoming endangered. I can conduct therapy sessions by phone and web-cam with people I have never met. Think about it; with all the options to communicate these days, what if the body is becoming obsolete? This notion could put a new spin on healthcare issues.

 

Sitting with someone in the flesh is an awesome endeavor. The body is amazing. It emits energy, and reveals essential truths about a person -- their posture, their breathing patterns, their smell, their facial expressions -- all communicate more than words. The body can be touched, invaded, brought to bliss or tortured. It cannot be obliterated by the closing of a screen. Naturally, the vulnerability and risk in a live encounter is much higher.

 

If it is true as some physicists suggest that everything and everyone we encounter is a product of our imagination, then perhaps it is irrelevant that the people and graphics who we connect with online only are hyper-imaginary. For the time being, I have divided simulationships into three categories that I represent with familiar, web-based, techno-savvy names: