Public Space Abandoned in Favor of the Microverse of Cyberspace

Wednesday night after work I broke out of my well-worn path by running an errand that involved an extra bus transfer. My destination was Bulldog News in the University District. The business manager of the union local where I work requested that I track down a copy of Monday's Seattle Times. Someone from the local had either tossed it or taken it home before the business manager, who, like many of us, is an ardent Seattle Seahawks fan, had the opportunity to yank out the sports section photo spread of Sunday's victory over San Francisco. The business manager, showing a flair for graphic design that caught me by surprise, has, since Seattle's Thanksgiving victory over the 49ers, created a montage using the large color photos found in the Seattle Times.

Right before leaving work on Wednesday I conducted a quick Google search to see how many newsstands there were in Seattle. And the answer is that there aren't many. Try two: First & Pike News located at the main entrance to Pike Place Market, and Bulldog News in the heart of the U District. First & Pike News is still around because of its choice spot in one of Seattle's top tourist attractions, and Bulldog News survives because of its espresso bar, and its proximity to the University of Washington; plus, I believe small businesses in the University District pay below-market rents in exchange for serving the student population.

I called First & Pike News and the guy who picked up the phone said he didn't have a copy of The Times from Monday. I asked him if he had any suggestions. He told me to check the library. I said, "Thanks, bud," and hung up.

Next I called Bulldog News and spoke to a pleasant gentleman who, after checking, told me he had some copies of Monday's paper left. I asked him to set one aside for me, and that I would be by after work. He said, "You better get here by seven. We close at seven." I told him I'd be there.

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I got off the train in Chinatown and got onto a U-District express bus, which became packed to overflowing by the time we exited downtown. I got off the bus on University Way, purchased two copies of Monday's Seattle Times at Bulldog News, then walked down the hill to a bus stop and waited for the #49 to Capitol Hill, my neighborhood.

And this is the part of the story that I wanted to share. When the #49 finally arrived (it seemed too long a wait for the hour, still before 7 PM) and I boarded, I noticed right away that the young riders were nearly all earbudded and locked into their smart phones or tablets. I'm not talking a bare majority; I'm saying that 98% -- everyone with the exception of myself and one or two other people -- were in their own digital world. And the bus was relatively full. This had the effect of zeroing out the public space on the bus.

If you are a public transit user you know that a collective consciousness develops during the commute on bus or train. The mental force of the passenger minds project outward, meet and coalesce in the contained space of rail car or bus while the conductor or driver, eyes forward, pilots the transport.

With the growth of digital addiction the collective never attains consciousness. Everyone is boring down into his or her own microverse.

Now one might argue that newspaper readers -- people such as myself who each morning on the train read the inky newsprint sheets synonymous with the growth of democracy and capitalism -- diminish the collective consciousness just as much as screen gazers. And there is some truth to this. But the newspaper reader usually has one eye cocked to the shared public space; he can chat or provide directions at the drop of a hat. The earbudded tablet-screen gazer, on the other hand, is totally immersed. He is not sharing in the public space other than as a large piece of heat-producing meat.

The impact on our commons of this digital immersion, which in the developed world is increasingly becoming the default state, will not be a happy one. With the transcendence of neoliberalism over the last 40 years public space has been pared back and privatized. Now, what little public space remains is being abandoned in favor of the microverse of cyberspace. Ten years on we might look like the acres of foetuses warehoused in ersatz amniotic-fluid with a USB port at the base of the skull dramatized in The Matrix (1999).