Virtually the same.
Is there hidden value in physical experiences?
On Monday evening I visited a dear friend of mine. I was in a foul mood in the car on the way there. Not feeling especially nasty, but certainly no fun to be around. I suppose we all have days like that. Usually when I visit this friend at his home, he makes us each a cup of coffee and we chat, often seriously and intimately about life. We throw a few jokes around, but the tone is earnest. When I arrived on Monday, though, my timing coincided with the annual Apple keynote, which he watches semi-religiously. Side note: He told me he was watching the WWDC, and I stared at my phone for a good few minutes trying to figure out what sport that might be. He invited me to sit on the couch with him as we watched the last half of the presentation. Still stewing in my irritation, I hurled some totally undeserving comments at the products and presenters. The seeming lack of any real texture or wrinkles in the presenters’s clothing really got under my skin. Clearly I relished the opportunity to vent, and I’m glad that I managed to direct my emotion at the TV instead of someone I love. After Apple’s presentation finally concluded, we resumed our normal coffee routine, with the all-too-welcome addition of cookies. We spoke honestly and vulnerably with one another into the small hours of the morning, sharing our dreams and our worries. I drove home in the dark, warm from the coffee and the loving assurance of an old friend.
The last product discussed in Apple’s keynote was its new VR/AR headset, the VisionPro. If you don’t know what any of those letters mean, the VisionPro is a computer that sits on your eyes, almost like goggles. It has a tiny screen for each eye, so all you can see is what the computer shows you on your screen, no peripheral vision outside of the headset. A dozen or so clever sensors can also create a model of your room and make it look like a screen is floating in front of you. It’s a totally revolutionary step for Apple, like going from landline phones to cell phones: an entirely new paradigm. The VisionPro is capable of both virtual reality (VR) and augmented reality (AR). Virtual reality is when an immersive experience, totally different to your surroundings, is created. These experiences can be based on real places, like a virtual tour of Yosemite, or created, like playing video games or touring fictional worlds. With this technology, you could sit in a virtual movie theatre and watch your favourite Harry Potter movie on the big screen, but really, you’re in your living room wearing a computer headset. Augmented reality, in this context, is when digital elements are projected onto an image of the real world. You can stand in your kitchen, wearing the VisionPro, and the computer can show you a live video of your kitchen, but add a virtual screen so that you can also watch TV or FaceTime or keep track of your recipe. So, whether you are in AR or VR, you are wearing this computer on your eyes. Even if you see your real home on its screens, the VisionPro always stands between you and reality.
When my friend made coffee that evening, it was a bigger event than usual. He has a new coffee machine since I last visited, and he was buzzing as he turned it on and explained how incredible it is. I laughed at his enthusiasm, it’s funny what we can be so deeply passionate about. His eyes were giant and expressive as he spoke, his eyebrows danced around in excitement. Sitting next to the machine is a tall jar of coffee beans and, at his encouragement, I took a deep, heady sniff. He put a hot cup of coffee into my hands. The roast, as it turns out, wasn’t my favourite, it was too acidic I think (I say that being a novice coffee drinker). He agreed about the acidity, tough, and we fiddled with the machine settings for a bit before moving our conversation to the living room. As we spoke, the night, and living room, grew cold. He brought out a small heater and we sat on the couch, cozying up to the warmth, empty cups and cookie packages strewn about us.
Revolutionary technology has empowered aspects of my life. Video calls are a vital part of my most valuable relationships. I was able to continue my university education during the pandemic thanks to the same innovation. I know that when my mom had typing classes as a pre-teen (using typewriters), the laptop I’m writing this journal with was unimaginable. By all but a few individuals, at least. I remember renting VHS tapes and DVD’s for 24 hours, and needing to make a special trip to the store to return my Ben 10 box set. Netflix is undoubtedly easier. When I was 13, I was on the pulse of new technology, and would have been chomping at the bit to get my hands on a VisionPro. But at my ripe old age of 23, something in my gut is holding me back from the excitement.
We are innovating so quickly. Our global society is still reeling from the introduction of social media and, more than a decade later, we continue to discover new ways that it influences our minds, our relationships, our communities, both positively and negatively. Those changes happened within us, within our societies, before we fully understood them. I think of the innovations coming to fruition this year alone, the prevalence of AI, new platforms like the VisionPro*, and I wonder how quickly it will affect us before we understand how.
I told you about smelling the coffee beans, moving closer to the heater; those are pretty obvious shared experiences that we lose if we choose a virtual interaction over a physical one. If my visit was a virtual one, we still could have watched the same things and I suppose he and I could have independently eaten the same cookies. I’m not really worried about the things we know will change. I wonder if we might unknowingly sacrifice the emotional skills we pick up, like how my friend intuitively knew that I had a tough week because of how I sat, how I spoke, maybe the subtle, intangible atmosphere I created in the room. Is it possible that I need the touch of someone I love? A hug, a hand on the shoulder. Is it possible that there are parts of sitting in a room with someone that can’t be simulated? What happens to me if I always place a barrier between my eyes and my world? Are there repercussions to innovating so quickly? I am scared that I am so interested in how my technology was designed, I never stop to consider what I was designed for
*I realise that VR headsets like the Vive and Oculus have been around for some time, but I also think there are unknowable effects to the introduction of a significantly more capable device from one of the world’s most recognisable and influential technology companies.