But the attention economy in its current, seemingly dystopian form presents us with another, drastically different, vision of the human condition. In revealing our lack of control over own identities, our dependence on others as fundamentally social creatures, the online attention economy challenges us to accept relationality as an even more fundamental part of who we are than are our own physical bodies. We are dependent on others even behind a keyboard. When we relate to one another, whether in corporeal sex or through a screen darkly, we are forced to contend with a givenness of the human condition — a givenness that does not refer purely to our physical makeup, nor to our gender, nor to our racial or ethnic or economic background, nor to any other atavistic vision of the self, but rather to our need for other people. That our current digital economy is an attention economy is telling not simply because “likes” now mean clicks, but because what we traffic in, as social creatures, is fundamentally that which attention is at its core: We traffic in love. We cannot, as the dandies or White would have it, willingly choose, commodify, and compartmentalize our relation to one another.

Seen in this way, today’s online attention economy is not evil, as such, but merely tragic, a reflection of the inevitable reality that in all our lives we are dependent on others, and of our hubristic inability to acknowledge this in a more salutary way. Creative freedom and digital technology alike may allow us to transcend our physical bodies, but they do not allow us to transcend the truer actuality of human relations. We can create ourselves, but we cannot create ourselves independently of our hunger for love.

Our bodies, it turns out, are red herrings. We may yet become robots. But we will never be free.

Technological changes occur at the same time as cultural changes - even if the two aren't always related. Bowling Alone was written long before the iPhone came out and detailed the way modern people were beginning to drift from communities into solo siloed lives.

Side note: the invention of the car did have a lot to do with changing sexual customs. For the first time a suitor could take a date far from parental or other chaperoning eyes with relative ease. The car had more to do with the coming sexual revolution than many other often claimed sources (in my opinion).

I'm not sure the reality the author is describing is because of technology (the apps, the likes, etc) or a symptom of a long running trend away from real communities. Lonely people seek companionship. They used to do this by watching TV. Now they do it via apps on a phone. I don't believe in monocausal explanations or single answer solutions. I do think that creating real communities would solve many of these issues.

I don't really exist on social media. I'm a bit of a luddite considering I'm in my early thirties, but I feel so busy with my normal life I've never wanted to spend much time there. It would be great if the same way we (attempt to) teach financial literacy in schools we taught social literacy. Turn off the phone a bit, volunteer, talk to your neighbors, fall in love, (if and when the time is right) have kids - love your kids, that's a beautiful life.

As tragic as the unfolding of this article was for me, I was compelled to read it. It’s absolutely nothing new for an older generation to feel disenchanted with a newer generation - seems inevitable. But where will the millennials find themselves in old age - how far do we have to go to truly be horrified? I’m not saying that previous generations were without their own darkness, but technology seems like a run away train, a very slippery slope. Great writing and lots to think about.