Julie Steinberg | Disconnected from others

Over the past week, pundits have dubbed Obama's victory the result of a "digital election," one that utilized text messaging, e-mails and MySpace to get support from our generation. And while the strategy worked astoundingly, the information revolution leaves me a tad uncomfortable when it's applied to other areas.

Somewhere in between the online episodes of Californication, G-chat conversations and thousands of pokes on Facebook, we got lost. For the idealistic freshman who pictures meaningful discussions with hallmates next to a fireplace, the conflict crystallizes with the first swig of Red Stripe. We go to parties and text furiously instead of enjoying what's there; we catch up via e-mail instead of over lunch. Essentially, in lieu of full-fat Ben and Jerry's, we've learned to settle for Marathon frozen yogurt interactions.

We've become the poster children for postmodern dissection; we separate ourselves into neat boxes, each containing different sections of who we are. We compartmentalize Truth and Beauty and random hookups and 9 a.m. class and exchange one for the other seamlessly - too seamlessly. We've become so adept at whittling everything down, extracting as much information as possible, that we've made the very acts that signify intangibles accessible only through virtual documentation.

For example, two friends of mine began dating a month ago. Two weeks later, I and the rest of the Penn community woke up to a broken heart sign next to their names on Facebook that alerted us of their breakup. "Thanks for everything, but I don't think this working out," said the message that one of them received. Let me be clear: This was during an online Scrabble game the two had been playing. I never found out who ended up winning that round.

Our generation tends to make significant acts nondescript because the 21st century, embodied in BlackBerrys and Youtube, forces us to ingest great deals of information at once. There's no chance to reflect on what you've done the night before because everyone else is reflecting on it on JuicyCampus.com. And while we may be haunted later by some of the pictures posted (or columns written), the democratization of technology means it's easier to forget your deeds if you don't have to face them in person.

And this forms the crux of the problem. We've become so accustomed to seeing and hearing about the acts of others (YouPorn.com, anyone?) that we forget there is actual meaning behind them.

How do we ensure our interactions transcend digital boundaries? The electric fence of Facebook and MySpace is only compounded by text messaging that reads something like: "Hey, want to come over tonight? My roommate's out of town." And even if he does let you spend the night, it's become easier than ever to cancel 12:30 p.m. lunch plans, because we can simply send a raincheck text at 12:22.

The situation has become a self-fulfilling prophecy. We're a jaded generation because we take these meta-realities, the separation of Self and Body, to be truths. Gleaning information, like we do every time we use Google, has become the perfect example for how we conduct ourselves with others, separating out what we can use and rejecting what seems too tangled.

So, how to escape from the confirmation bias? How to break free of a cycle that's perpetuated every time we send a text or Facebook message? The only way is to reclaim what we gave up: reality without binary code. Not reality television shows like The Hills or The Real World, which only mock our devotion to scripted dialogue, but real interaction with our peers. Lunch, in person, with BlackBerrys turned off and idle chatter flowing.

Only then can we shed the defense mechanisms that we've shouldered. And if we aren't ready for such a move, you'll know where to find me. I'll be waiting by the phone - just shoot me a BBM.

Julie Steinberg is a College senior from Boca Raton, Fla. Her e-mail is steinberg@dailypennsylvanian.com. That's What She Said appears alternating Tuesdays.

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