The Generation of Generation Q

Last week, Thomas Friedman dubbed us “Generation Q” — the Quiet Americans, so plugged in (and tuned out) that our idealism stops at the computer monitor. With so much interconnectedness among the Facebook-YouTube-MySpace cohort, and so much wrong in the world, Friedman wonders why our generation looks so complacent.

The twentysomethings fire back that their technological moving and shaking is being mistaken for indolence; as a recent Sun editorial argued, activism has “transformed from sensationalized 1960s tear-gas rallies to online petitions and Internet discussion boards.”

Yet for Friedman — and, I suspect, many among the Baby Boomers and the “Greatest Generation” — we come off as apologists, hiding our apathy behind a high tech façade: “Martin Lu­ther King and Bobby Kennedy didn’t change the world by asking people to join their Facebook crusades or to download their platforms,” Friedman chides us nostalgically.

In truth, we are complacent — and if you look around, for good reason.

For my generation, technology has had a distinctively quieting effect. In nearly every walk of life, technological advancements have instilled this generation with a deep sense of inevitability that encourages us to look inward. In a sense, Friedman has it backwards: we don’t lazily hide behind technology, so much as technology inspires us to stay quiet.

Take sports. In an edge-of-your-seat final quarter between the Dallas Cowboys and the Buffalo Bills last week, a few of the thrills came from great catches and kicks, to be sure, but the real drama resulted from technicalities — from an instant replay review of a 20-yard pass and from a split-second time out that voided a field goal kick that made the victory “one of the most implausible in the Cowboys’ illustrious history,” according to an ESPN recap of the game.

It’s strange, watching these hippo-sized linemen beating the hell out of each other … all until a flag drops, at which point they respectfully defer to a high-definition replay.

Much the same in other sports: as the Daily Scotsman noted when FIFA sanctioned a trial run for a soccer ball that “beeps” when it crosses the goal line, football fans can’t quibble with technology that “ensure[s] justice and eradicate[s] controversy.”

For sports fans and players alike, technology has obviated the important human element of competition. The exciting disputes are no longer about “bad” or “close” calls, but about close-up high-definition simulacra of the plays in question; as controversy is eradicated, sports fans are, for lack of a better option, quiet.

Consider a seminal American experience for my generation: the O.J. Simpson trial. In an adversarial procedure that (we now know) failed to capture the truth (if he did it, of course), the determining factor was DNA evidence, which according to a New York Times article at that time, was not challenged by the defense at all on the basis of its “validity as a science.”

Though the DNA evidence may not have been “clear or convincing to a jury of non-scientists,” according to the Times article, it was ultimately presented as indisputable fact. Where Clarence Darrow drew on philosophy, religion and, yes, science to defend Leopold and Loeb in the “Trial of the Century,” Johnnie Cochran’s famous catchphrase was “if it doesn’t fit, you must acquit.” Like the instant replay, DNA evidence isn’t up for debate, it’s a foregone conclusion.

Perhaps the most glaring example was the 2000 presidential election, when the Supreme Court upheld the voting tabulations accrued by the disputed ballots in Florida to hand the election to George W. Bush. The Court, while lamenting the “unfortunate number of ballots which [were] not punched in a clean, complete way” in Bush v. Gore (2000), ruled that the technology of the day would have to suffice, and that it could not read into the intent of voters — even if half a chad was clearly punched.

What’s dangerous in these cases is not the technology itself — for surely, we applaud fairness in sports, exonerations based on DNA evidence and new digital voting platforms — but the excesses and unintended consequences of these innovations.

Thus, dinner table disputes end as quickly as one can BlackBerry the answer; road-side directions are relics of history thanks to GPS technology; and those impossible-to-understand song lyrics no longer require funny substitutions because you can Google them straightaway. Because information is so readily accessible, technology has made us close-minded, more attuned to what’s for lunch than what’s on the news (though, like CNN.com, menupages.com is a mere click away).

The direst consequences of a technocracy are the stuff of entertainment: the Orwellian justice system in the blockbuster hit Minority Report and the simulated boxing match which precedes the actual fight in Rocky Balboa being two prominent examples of technology meting out results before the parties have spoken. When Tom Cruise or ESPN can anticipate outcomes before events, deliberation loses meaning.

Is it any wonder that Generation Q, which saw the guilty O.J. vindicated by DNA evidence and the calamitous Bush crowned by faulty ballots, appears so apathetic?

Faced with the most bitter and divisive of conflicts, our societal “referees” regularly defer to technological precepts of justice over human concepts of fairness. With the world on fire, Generation Q isn’t questioning the lies of WMDs in Iraq or global climate change — no, we’re keeping our mouths shut and burying ourselves further in our computers.

Rob Fishman is a senior in the College of Arts and Sciences. He can be contacted at rbfishman@cornellsun.com [1]. Agree to Disagree appears­ Tuesdays.