| STORY
Jamie Carracher
PHOTOS Jacob Stewart
I see myself as an über-intellectual Justin Timberlake
as I button up my navy blue pea coat. I tighten my thick,
multicolored scarf around my neck and return to the stack
of compact discs on the desktop. I flip through CDs, looking
for something that fits my mood or attitude: Smashing Pumpkins,
At The Drive-In, Weezer. I pick Metallica because I want to
get my thrash on.
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| Photo Illustration |
As I walk out of the room, I envision myself in a music video
— Carson Daly is saying my name. Then the drums start
punching out, and the guitars roar in my ear. When I open
the door to the outside, bitter winter air hits me. But I
walk a little taller, a little cooler. I saunter.
I’ve been walking to class wearing headphones for a
few years. It’s a complement to mood and style, a way
of feeling in and feeling out. And it’s a shield. I
put them on when I want to be left alone.
On the street, people on cell phones and under headphones
proceed like scattered atoms in a slow chemical reaction.
They come together, then quickly part, barely acknowledging
one another’s existence.
And while people are physically close, they seem eternally
far away.
In 1979 the face of music was altered forever with the release
of Sony’s Walkman. More than 20 years later, companies
are producing evolved versions of the portable music player,
such as Apple and its iPod, an MP3 player that holds hours
of digital music.
And in 1947, AT&T proposed the idea of a cellular phone
to the federal government. Today there are more than 137 million
cell phone users worldwide, according to the Cellular Telecommunications
& Internet Association, an industry-lobbying group.
On Wall Street these devices are big business, and across
the United States — in high school lockers, corporate
offices and on college campuses — they’re ubiquitous.
David Perusek thinks they’re an example of American
culture out of control.
Perusek, anthropology instructor, sits in his small office
in Lowry Hall. He leans back often and closes his eyes, his
fingers absently toying with the can of Diet Coke that sits
on his desk. Three shelves sit against one wall, all overly
stacked with books. He looks to the books often, perhaps trying
to conjure a name or quote or to remember points he’d
like to emphasize.
For Perusek, technologies such as cell phones and headphones
aren’t inherently evil. But he sees implications and
negative reactions to their use. He sees the “compression
of time and space.”
“(They’re) a way of never being in the present
and the moment,” Perusek says of the devices. He says
technology enables users to take everything from home and
work wherever they go.
Perusek recalls a cell phone commercial where a man sits
in a beautiful country setting. The man’s cell phone
rings, and a voice cheerily announces that now he can be in
the office at all times.
“It would seem to me,” he says, “anyone
with an ounce of brains would know that’s precisely
what you don’t want to be.”
Perusek says cell phones and headphones are also a way of
amusing people at all times, something he calls the “infantilization
of adults.”
“What do people live for?” he asks, his voice
rising. “They live for Miller time.”
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| Freshman archaeology major Gregg Carr
says that every second he isn't in class he is wearing
his headphones. |
In the Student Center, students flip open cell phones like
Captain Kirk paging the Enterprise, and others in headphones
look like R2-D2 on Naboo. They walk across the room preoccupied,
eyes trained downward on their devices, as if searching for
life’s answers in their palm — thus spoke Motorola.
In the parking lot outside Satterfield Hall, I approach one
kid who's walking briskly while smoking and listening to music
through massive, shell-like headphones. I ask him for directions,
and he looks slightly surprised as he quickly uncovers his
ears. He tersely gives directions and moves away without looking
at me. Later I see him sitting alone in the Hub, listening
to music and reading.
I’m testing people. What will they do when I ask them
for directions while they’re preoccupied?
It’s a test of me, too. Each time I approach someone,
I feel as if the person’s face will contort into a hideous
expression of disgust. I know what they’re thinking.
In front of Bowman Hall, I approach another student for directions
while he chatters quietly on his phone and smokes a cigarette.
He turns calmly, unfazed by my interruption, and assists.
He asks the person on the other line where White Hall is located.
He says she’s actually there now and cheerfully describes
the way. I thank him for the help.
Unfortunately, they’re the wrong directions.
 |
| Fine arts major Kevin Coleman makes
a call in the Hub on his cell phone. He says he spends
about two hours each day talking on his phone. |
Perusek, who teaches introduction to cultural anthropology,
explains that cell phones aren’t normally a problem
in his classes. Sometimes he’ll note his feelings at
the start of a semester. Other times he’ll wait for
one to ring.
“Sometimes I just embarrass the person,” he says.
For Perusek, these devices illustrate the power and popularity
of consumption in American life.
“We Americans are socialized to consume from the earliest
ages,” he says. “Using a cell phone, even when
it’s free minutes, is a way of consuming at all times.”
According to AT&T Wireless spokeswoman Alexa Kaufman,
the college sector is a major piece of the company’s
business plan.
“It’s a really huge market for us,” she
says. “Younger people are earlier adapters of technology.”
And to capitalize on that, AT&T has forged deals with
companies like Yahoo! to offer enticements like instant messaging
over phones, Kaufman says. She adds that phone manufacturers
like Nokia and Motorola even research what colors people might
find appealing.
And cell phone companies aren’t oblivious to the changing
social behaviors of their customers, either.
Cingular Wireless, the second largest wireless provider in
America, set up the Web site www.be-sensible.com to promote
proper cell phone etiquette, joining other independent sites
like www.cellmanners.com and www.phoneybusiness.com.
“We really wanted to own this area, not only cell phone
safety, but cell phone courtesy,” says Cingular spokesman
Clay Owen.
The company suggests turning cell phones to vibrate while
in movie theaters and also not making calls in places of worship,
Owen says.
Cingular also is opposed to legislation of behavior, preferring
the use of common sense to solve safety and courtesy matters.
“We thought it was a good idea to get ahead of this
issue,” he says.
Kaufman says AT&T Wireless monitors social research on
cell phone behavior and also engages in promotion of proper
cell phone etiquette through publications and in-store brochures.
“I’ve been in a restaurant when a guy is yapping
on a phone, and I can understand that,” she says. “People
need to be cognizant of the world around them.”
 |
| Freshman flight technology major John
Tatara checks his voicemail as he waits for a bus. |
“It’s too early to judge how new technology like
cell phones and headphones are affecting human communication,”
says Margaret Finucane, assistant professor of communications
at John Carroll University.
Certain observations can be drawn about a new social fabric
growing in this country, though.
For example, she says, some people can imply they are more
important by ignoring others around them while listening to
music or making calls.
Finucane remembers a time when she was ignored by a cashier
at a grocery store because the woman was busy talking on a
cell phone.
“One of the things we see is we’re no longer
involved with our immediate environment,” she says.
And the devices change how we communicate with people we
already know, Finucane says. Some research suggests that devices
like cell phones break down social relations, and other studies
say they build stronger ties.
“Using a cell phone to remain connected to others allows
people to communicate regardless of their location —
meaning that they transcend space and time to remain connected,”
Finucane says. “I think that the issue is how or why
people are using the cell phone as to whether it is isolating
or connecting.”
She says some young people are drawn toward cell phones and
headphones for instant gratification, mobility and utility.
“When we want it, we can get it,” Finucane says.
Outside the air has become warmer. More people are out walking
to class. For the most part, they trudge forward, looking
toward the ground or straight ahead.
I approach one kid who is walking alone with his head down.
I ask him where the university keeps its atomic robots.
He looks at me, trying not to laugh, and says he's never
heard of the Kent State Atomic Robot Center before. I stare
back like I don’t believe him before thanking him and
continuing on.
I can understand his confusion — because I made it
up.
Near the residence halls, I see someone talking on a cell
phone. I hurry and ask for the way to Flannery Hall. He says
he doesn’t think that building even exists, and I mention
that a swing set is supposed to be near it. He apologizes
politely for being of no help.
I walk away smiling. Unapproachable? Perhaps. Uncomfortable?
Not really.
Freshman Nicole Bertone says she takes her cell phone everywhere.
“I use it a lot,” she says. “I talk on it
between five and 10 times a day.”
Bertone, a freshman undecided major, says she uses her phone
to call home to Willoughby to talk to her mom and boyfriend.
This is her second semester, and her phone has been a mixed
blessing.
“It’s my freshman year security blanket, but
I think I use it way too much,” she says.
She says her phone has made it hard to meet new friends at
school and create her own life. With it near, she knows she
can always call home when she’s lonely.
“Pretty much I’m always by myself because I’m
talking on my cell phone,” she says, adding that she
often eats lunch alone while talking on her phone.
In the United States, few studies have been conducted on
the social effects of devices like cell phones and headphones,
Finucane says. However, in European countries, particularly
Finland, great amounts of research have been done because
they have adopted the new technology faster than Americans.
Finucane, a 1999 Kent State doctoral graduate, and two other
Kent State alumni working at John Carroll, are studying the
effects of new technology — primarily Internet technologies
like instant messaging — on interpersonal relations.
In the fall, they intend to study the effects of cell phone
usage.
“We want people to report on how and why they are using
cell phones for interaction and whether they perceive cell
phones to be the equivalent to face-to-face interaction,”
Finucane says.
In the Hub one evening, Bertone and her friend sit at a table
together for dinner, both talking on their cell phones.
“She was talking to her boyfriend, and I was talking
to mine,” Bertone says later. “That happens a
lot.”
“It was our little moment when we could talk to our
boys,” she says.
At school and among friends, cell phones pervade daily life,
Bertone says.
“Everyone has one. All my friends have one. It’s
very common,” she says. “Even my grandparents
have one.”
Perusek, the anthropology instructor, pictures a country
of alienation when he ponders the effects of new technologies
like headphones and cell phones.
“Someone may want to ask you for directions, but they’re
not going to,” he says. “Who knows — that
could be the love of your life.”
The primary way of making connections and meeting new people,
Finucane says, comes from seeing similarities in others and
being around them often. But it’s hard to break the
ice if people are creating a shell, she says. And creating
shells isn’t a new thing.
“Prior to cell phones and personal Walkmans, we know
that people used nonverbal messages to indicate a desire to
be left alone,” she says. “They would generally
allow greater distances between themselves and others, avoid
eye contact and be careful not to allow others to touch them
when in close proximity.”
Perusek doesn’t own a cell phone, but he owns a Walkman,
which he enjoys. He’s adamant that he doesn’t
reject the technologies themselves.
“Technology is neutral. But what matters is how technology
is used and to what ends and who controls technology,”
he says.
The true alienation is a separation from oneself, he says.
“(People are) constantly on call, constantly tuned
to the external,”Perusek says. “Where is there
space for any inner dialogue, to think?”
On a Campus Loop bus, the driver turns wide and fast around
the corner of Summit and Lincoln streets. I close my eyes
and think we’re going to crash in a ball of flames as
we roar down the small hill. I open them and relax because
we didn’t hit anyone.
Behind me I still hear the blond girl chattering on her phone,
and Brian Wilson is still singing in my ears about surfing.
But besides that, the bus is silent, and I wonder if everyone
is contemplating our seemingly near-death experience.
Outside the air is cold, and the snow won’t melt, making
the ground look like white sand in some frigid Midwest Sahara.
I’m not taking off my headphones because they accompany
my varying moods … and they keep my ears warm without
messing up my hair.
People do seem more isolated now, but I don’t blame
myself. Even if I am disconnecting myself from the world with
music, I do it for a reason. I don’t have time to take
a nap or read a book in a quiet room. I get my private time
on the move. |
