09.45
As I write, I’m sitting in an armchair in the living room of our rented villa in southwestern Turkey, watching the rain pour outside and listening for the occasional grumble of thunder. It is not how I envisaged my Friday, considering the last few days have been sunny and hovering at around 24-25 degrees, yet there is something peaceful and relaxing about it, and it seems that I somewhat counter-intuitively enjoy the idea
of being trapped inside for the day, forced to find ways to occupy myself. In fairness, if it had been sunny, I would have likely spent the day lying by the pool, reading Richard Osman’s new novel, so I suppose the only difference will be having to read it lying on the sofa instead.
I discovered Substack yesterday, in yet another demonstration of how I seem to be falling, albeit willingly, further and further behind the times. I was reading a column by James Marriott in The Times discussing the introduction of Digital IDs, and how it now seems inevitable that a smartphone will soon be a prerequisite to active participation in society. To cut a long story short, this led me to his substack, and a piece entitled ‘The dawn of the post-literate society’. The premise of the piece, which I would urge you to read, is that the invention of the smartphone is destroying our ability to concentrate for extended periods of time, think critically about the information we consume, and form evidence-based and well rounded opinions. I cannot remember the last time I read a piece which I so passionately agreed with, and which articulated my thoughts far more clearly than I ever could.
It is an issue that has concerned me for a while, and a hill I am willing to die on. Speaking generally, as I know there are exceptions to the rule, I believe that people are getting stupider, their attention spans are getting shorter, and they are destroying their own capacity for creative thinking, rational debate, and interesting conversations. How are you supposed to engage with someone who has developed their viewpoint of the world almost entirely from TikTok videos and Facebook status’, the vast majority of which are actively misleading, factually incorrect and, more often than not it seems these days, generated by artificial intelligence?
As Marriott writes, “After the introduction of smartphones in the mid-2010s, global PISA scores — the most famous international measure of student ability — began to decline. As John Burn Murdoch writes in the Financial Times, students increasingly tell surveys that they struggle to think, learn and concentrate”. Surely that cannot be a coincidence? I will leave you to read the piece and come to your own conclusions, but I am now firmly of the opinion that the rapid advances in technology that we’ve seen in the last couple of decades, culminating in the current AI goldrush, will almost certainly prove to be the beginning of the end for humanity.
13.50
The rain continues to fall, the thunder continues to growl, and we’re even being treated to occasional flashes of lightning now. We’ve had no electricity for most of the day so far, meaning Mother has only had one cup of tea, which is deeply unsatisfactory by her usual standards, and Carl is reduced to watching TikTok videos on his phone instead of YouTube videos on the TV, which is deeply unsatisfactory by his usual standards (he likes to alternate between the two). I have spent most of the day reading, and have just finished The Secrets of Successful Relationships by The School of Life, which I quite enjoyed. I think Carl was a bit worried when he saw what I was reading, but I reminded him that I am a firm believer that a relationship, like most other important things in life, must be constantly nurtured and worked on to be successful and fulfilling, and that seemed to placate (or perhaps bore) him enough to put his mind at ease.
Reflecting further on my thoughts earlier about the decline of reading, I’ve also been thinking a lot about writing recently too – more specifically, I’ve realised that the more widely I read, the more dissatisfied I become with my own writing style. I have reconciled myself to the idea that the more I learn, the more I will realise I don’t know, but this makes it almost impossible to write anything of substance that actually sounds convincing, since I’m already convinced that my view will probably change in the future.
I also sometimes feel that writing anything at all is likely pointless, since there is bound to be someone else out there who has written something arguing the same point, except far more fluently and impressively than I could. Then there is also the self-criticism that creeps in when I write a piece such as this one you’re reading now, as I berate myself for my arrogance in thinking that there is anyone out there that could possibly be interested in hearing what I have to say. In the end, it often becomes too overwhelming to think about, and instead of trying to write, I find myself staring absent mindedly at the nearest wall or mindlessly scrolling LinkedIn – before you judge, it’s the only form of social media I have left, having long ago deleted Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Snapchat and TikTok, and being much better off for it, might I add.
In the end, it probably comes down to the same thing I have to tell myself when trying to summon the energy to walk the dog or go to the gym – you just have to do it. You may only walk half a mile, you may only manage a twenty minute workout, and you man only write a few paragraphs of a shit essay on anti-depressants (be grateful I haven’t asked you to read that one.. yet), but at least you have done something, which is better than nothing, and it will provide you with a sense of achievement that cannot be underestimated in its effect on your overall happiness.
15.10
I’ve just come downstairs to discover a massive puddle of water on the upper living room floor, which presumably means we have a leak somewhere, which is certainly less than ideal, especially considering the floor is marble. Well, you know what they say – where there is a blame, there is a claim. Mother has just announced that she is having a baileys coffee, so it seems she has succumbed to the stress of being trapped indoors, even if it is in a luxury villa on the mediterranean coast.
I also read The Secrets of Successful Friendships by The School of Life recently, which got me thinking about my friends and what they mean to me. It’s dryly amusing when you take a step back and consider how much friendships evolve, and also disappear, over the years. I remember once being fervently adamant that friends should regularly spend time together, stay up to date with each others lives, be there for each other whenever required, and so on and so forth, yet now, like most others I know at the ripe old age of 26, I can go weeks without even speaking to many of my closest and dearest friends.
So what makes someone a friend? It is a question I have considered closely for as long as I can remember, evidenced by the rather long piece, Friendship, I wrote on the subject in June 2020. Surprisingly, a lot of what I wrote then still holds true now, although I might perhaps word it slightly better nowadays, and I am definitely less childish when it comes to ‘falling out’ with people. Nonetheless, I was pleasantly surprised by the maturity and self-awareness of this insight:
“On the most basic level, you never really know anyone properly and this, for lack of a more elegant turn of phrase, scares the shit out of me. It took some time for me to realise but now I think that the reason I can be so insecure in my friendships is because the thought of being vulnerable to someone else terrifies me and I’d rather shut them out of my life completely than allow that to happen. I constantly flip flop between accepting that I must allow myself to be vulnerable in order to form proper emotional connections with people and convincing myself that I can go through life without ever having to reveal my true self, which inevitably leads to consistent flip flops in my friendships. The closer I am to someone, the more likely I am to fall out with them as I attempt to avoid the unavoidable task of having to ‘open up’.”
Admittedly, despite having acknowledged the need to open up in June 2020, it has taken me another four or so years to actually do so (see An Open Letter to my Friends, written earlier this year), but I don’t mind this fact. Life is a constant voyage of self-discovery and personal growth, neither of which are linear, straight forward journeys, and it therefore makes me smile to see that I’ve made considerable progress in understanding who I am and what I want from my friends, as well as what I can offer them in return, even if I have gone rather around the houses with it.
18.15
So, the rain has finally stopped, and we’ve ventured out for dinner & drinks. Mother and Carl have ordered desti kebabs, I’ve had carbonara, and we’re all having a well deserved pint. I don’t think my companions have enjoyed the day of enforced solitude quite as much as I have, but Mother is now all caught up on Emmerdale, and Carl is now all caught up on.. V8 Scania’s on TikTok? We all have our own quirks in life I suppose.
A very good day to you.
