The Death of Conversational Intimacy

What has happened to meaningful conversation? In the  New York Times Review, September 26, 2015, “Stop Googling. Let’s Talk,” Sherry Turkle identifies technology as the culprit – namely the cell phone:

•         So conversation proceeds [amidst cell-phone interruptions], but… The effect is what you would expect: Conversation is kept relatively light, on topics where people feel they can drop in and out.

Turkle argues that this makes for superficial conversations:

•         Studies of conversation both in the laboratory and in natural settings show that when two people are talking, the mere presence of a phone on a table between them or in the periphery of their vision changes both what they talk about and the degree of connection they feel. People keep the conversation on topics where they won’t mind being interrupted. They don’t feel as invested in each other. Even a silent phone disconnects us.

What do we sacrifice for the convenience of a cell phone? Turkle observes that through direct conversation:

•         We learn to make eye contact, to become aware of another person’s posture and tone, to comfort one another and respectfully challenge one another — that [is where] empathy and intimacy flourish.

However, as she points out, there seems to be other factors involved:

•         In 2010, a team at the University of Michigan led by the psychologist Sara Konrath put together the findings of 72 studies that were conducted over a 30-year period. They found a 40 percent decline in empathy among college students, with most of the decline taking place after 2000.

The decline in empathy and intimate conversations seems to even pre-date the advent of the cell-phone. Turkle identifies our discomfort with solitude and any attempt to try to become grounded in ourselves and self-awareness as the source of the problem:

•         In one experiment, many student subjects opted to give themselves mild electric shocks rather than sit alone with their thoughts.

While some thrive on the contemplative life, others dread it. This resistance to encountering self is tragic. Turkle reflects that:

•         In solitude we find ourselves; we prepare ourselves to come to conversation with something to say that is authentic…If we don’t know how to be alone, we’ll only know how to be lonely…When we are secure in ourselves, we are able to really hear what other people have to say.

Why is it that security – the comfort in knowing and accepting where we stand – enables us to hear and to attend to others? I think that there are a numbers of ways that we can understand this.

When we accept ourselves, we can accept others. Their problems, weaknesses, and even their strengths do not threaten us. We are free to appreciate them for who they are. When our most pressing needs are resolved, we are also free to attend to the needs and anxieties of others.

Besides, when we are secure in our own opinions and even in our failings, we need not fear being exposed, ridiculed, or backed into the wall.

Also, when we know where we stand and why we stand there, and this requires a lot of personal reflection, we can comfortably respond. It’s like hitting a home run. Our feet must be planted firmly and securely. When our feet aren’t planted securely, we are off-balance and confused.

Let’s use an example. Your friend tells you about a wonderful extra-marital affair he is enjoying. You ask him about its impact on his wife and kids. He answers that everything is just fine.

Where do you go from there? You feel that adultery is wrong and destructive, but you also believe that your friend has to do what feels is right for him. (You are a moral relativist and don’t believe in objective moral truths.) Consequently, you are very confused and do not know how to respond. You try to resolve your confusion, but your paradigms are in irresolvable conflict. Result – great discomfort and a huge headache! Further contemplation? It just leads to frustration. It’s like starting to button your shirt with the wrong button. Every other button will be out of place.

We have to go back to the beginning, but that is too difficult. Questioning moral relativism is like questioning the very foundation of our life.

Turkle suggests that we simply reclaim conversation:

•         This is our moment to acknowledge the unintended consequences of the technologies to which we are vulnerable, but also to respect the resilience that has always been ours.

However, it is one thing to acknowledge this extensive problem, but it’s another thing to effectively confront it, especially in light of our antipathy to solitude and self-examination.

Living with Ourselves

I was surprised by my friend. He is humble – so able to admit his tendencies of self-aggrandizement. After all, it took the Lord years to burn away my denials, rationalizations, and positive affirmations so that I could see myself and to take responsibility for my “ugly.” I therefore asked him how he was able to achieve this understanding.

Mike answered that it had required years of self-examination and repudiation of the lies he had created for himself. However, he admitted that he still struggled with depression.

How could it be otherwise! To see ourselves as we truly are is painful. We therefore prefer to reside in a comforting lie rather than in the harsh truth. That’s why it is so difficult to come to self-awareness and self-acceptance, taking responsibility for our many moral lapses.

I revealed to Mike that I had rejected my best high school friend because I had become jealous of his popularity. However, I conveniently blamed him for the demise of our friendship. However, it was only through the assurance of the Christ’s love and mercy that I was enabled to see and confront my sin. Before, it had just been too painful to acknowledge my failures. I had to be right, but I wasn’t!

Mike was impressed by my candor, but I explained that I couldn’t take credit for any of this. Yes, I was now freed up to examine myself and to better understand others, but these changes clearly didn’t come from me! It was God alone who had released me from my shackles.

I wanted to give Him all the credit! Not only did He deserve it, but I knew that if I elevated myself instead, I would surely fall down. Besides, if I myself had achieved humility, it would have been pride – perhaps a pride even more insidious than my former pride.

I learned that I would be made to stand only by recognizing my Savior – that it’s all about His love. This has allowed me to redefine myself according to who I am in His sight and not according to the ever-shifting values of society – achievement, acclaim, power, money, and popularity.

How then was Mike able to stand without the identity that we can only have through a relationship with our Savior? He then said something quite profound and revealing:

·       Our notions of our self-importance and superiority are an addiction, but not like an addiction to drugs – something that we can entirely give up. Instead, our addiction to self-importance is like an addiction to food – something we cannot entirely surrender. Therefore, we need to substitute this addiction for something else that will give us a sense of our own worth and nobility.

So true! I had it, and he didn’t! He sees himself so clearly, but he can’t see that Christ is the answer, thereby condemning himself to more depression! Please for him. (Mike is not his real name!)

Self-Awareness and Machiavelli

At a discussion group, a PH’D student in clinical psych stated:

• Growth is about self-awareness. According to the psychoanalysts, illness is a product of failing to bring the subconscious into consciousness.

We agreed about the value of self-awareness – something we need in all areas of our lives. We need accurate data whether we are driving a car or servicing it. We need to know where to put the gas, oil and water. Any mistake can have tragic consequences. Likewise, in order to manage our lives, we need to have accurate data and understanding. I therefore asked her, “What in your training enables you to bring about self-awareness?”

I was surprised by her answer:

• I don’t have a clue! Some people respond to psychotherapies and others don’t. I don’t know why this is. 

I agreed with her that psychotherapy often fails to bring about its desired result of self-awareness. This was my opportunity to infuse some light:

• I could not face myself. It was just too painful to see my failings. Therefore, I hid behind denials and rationalizations and built myself up with illusory self-affirmations. It was only through Jesus’ assurances that He loves and forgives me that I began to grow in courage to engage the truth about myself. Knowing that He loves me and would never forsake me, I fearfully began the painful process of confronting my ugliness that I had. However, this confrontation eventually led to freedom. 

I then braced myself for the storm of criticism from this staunchly secular audience. One angry but articulate young man surprised me with his response:

• When the human race isn’t busy killing off anyone who is different, it returns to its obsession of manipulating and using one another for its own benefit.

He even seemed to include himself in his dismal assessment of humanity. I wondered how he could live with himself with such self-awareness. Perhaps he had gravitated to this understanding because it gave him license to act immorally. So I asked him:

• Why would I or anyone else be willing to invite you into their home? Perhaps you might decide to attack us?

He assured me that he didn’t need God and that he had compassion instead. I therefore grabbed the floor and fired back:

• What then happens when you don’t feel the compassion? Will you abuse your host?

The moderator intervened and re-positioned the conversation back onto safer ground. But the question remained - What do people do when their feelings of empathy run thin, which they surely will? What then will keep them situated on moral high ground?

I still believe in the value of self-awareness. However, self-awareness without the conviction that we live under the scrutiny of a just God is useless. It’s like a Machiavellian understanding and awareness of others, only to more skillfully use and abuse them.