I am not a robot, am I?
As today I asserted my identity and humanity yet again, by checking the “I am not a robot” box, I wondered how long it would be until the robots out there know to check the box as well. Perhaps they already do. Their robotic progression toward humanness pushing the boundaries in much the same way that young people, looking to explore more of the online world (and by extension more of the wider world) than their age technically allows, know to click the box indicating that they are 18.
Young people, myself included in my earlier years, have always sought to move beyond the boundaries established by adults in an oft-futile attempt to protect. Although in some respects breaching these containment walls has gotten more challenging – ID scanners now make it more difficult, for instance, for people under age to get into clubs – in other ways the doors are wide open. This is particularly true when it comes to online.
The reality is that young people today are worldly beyond their years, and there is little we can do to regulate this. Sure there are parental restriction apps and other tools, but most parents do not have the time or level of expertise to use these tools consistently and effectively. Besides, short of locking children up there is no way to keep them off computers and away from potentially harmful sites. Younger generations are much more knowledgeable than their parents on how to get around whatever paternalistic barriers adults might attempt to place in their way, and there are always accidental encounters with violent or offensive content. Even seemingly innocuous searches can yield some interesting results (I once, for instance, made the error of shopping online for “tall boots.”).
Defining what is considered harmful has also gotten more challenging, and there continues to exist a micro line between what material restrictions constitute censorship in a free society. I tend to err on the side of more freedoms, including freedom for views that are contrary to, well, freedom, despite how offensive I find them to be. Access to the digital world is an increasingly prominent part of our children’s education – both during casual encounters and in classroom environments. Although schools have in place blocks to limit what might be considered inappropriate content (often erring on limiting sexually explicit content, including educational and artistic content, while placing less emphasis on limiting access to violent content) young people have tools at their fingertips to learn about virtually anything, anywhere.
Exposure to violent images is, I believe, particularly troubling. As a consumer of media, I make deliberate attempts each day to go beyond the borders of my small physically accessible and safe geographic boundaries. Although this foray offers glimpses at beauty and creative, inspirational innovation, it also includes horrific images of war and human suffering. As a mature adult, I can better place this barrage of information into context and self-censor to protect myself from over stimulation and de-sensitization. Taking deliberate steps to explore diverse media sources, to remain informed, to ferret out, critique and reject “new speak” is critical and challenging in a world of mass media conglomerates and political madness. We want students to know about what is happening in the world. Yet many young people (and many adults) are not able to filter or choose to not to filter content that has the potential to harm them and have developed debilitating online addictions.
I do believe that second generation Internet “natives” are better able to explore and mediate online worlds with greater discretion than their predecessors (and those of us who came to this medium as adults). Nonetheless, there are predators that prey on innocence and vulnerabilities. Raising children now and teaching children in formal educational settings means helping young people negotiate a complex and ever-changing online as well as physical social environment. Some young people take things in stride and seem able to cope with the over-stimulation that has become integral to our modern existence – even “out here,” remote from urban centers. Most merely cope from day to day. As we move toward a new school year, many students will feel apprehensive and lost, overwhelmed by both the hallways and classrooms that are their daily reality and the quagmire of online influences that they turn to for comfort and support.
Educational institutions like many aspects of modern life are becoming increasingly automated, mechanized and impersonal as prescribed curriculums and standardized measures become more dominant (and costly) features of the educational domain. Such a progression often leads to educators feeling powerless to teach as they struggle to meet increased demands for formal accountability. Parents’ likewise, are often isolated as well, invited for open houses and parent-teacher conferences but other than that mostly removed from their child’s daytime education due to work schedules and responsibilities.
There is significant research indicating that shorter work days and work weeks often lead to greater productivity (a desirable commodity in a capitalist society), yet Americans work more hours than ever before. There are calls for longer school days and years, and
students recognized as struggling are often faced with detention-like school day extensions that take them away from afterschool activities and “free” periods. We all have less and less time for personal reflections and creative pursuits.
If one takes the time to really observe young people, it is evident that many are not coping well. They are expected to repeatedly “perform” but have few in-school opportunities to explore creative outlets that help them build on strengths and interests. Our humanity lies in our desire and ability to create – to explore our unique attributes and share with others as we define goals, develop competence and seek recognition in our areas of interest. Young people are a force for change, and are constantly seeking opportunities to find solutions – and ask even more compelling questions about their world. Yet, in many educational settings – and work places – opportunities for hands on and contemplative pursuits are replaced by rote learning that fosters and accepts mediocrity. Looking at the other side of the “I am not a robot” scenario, as the robots move closer to becoming more human, a more frightening scenario is that the humans are becoming more like robots – despite our assertions to the contrary.
D.E. Bentley, Editor, Owl Light News