Sunday, March 30, 2008

Supported Cognition or How We Forget

While grocery shopping today, I was suddenly overcome with forgetfulness. I'd gathered some fruits and vegetables and hunted down a few cans of this and that before I found myself gazing, rather blankly, at the display of just-add-water potato products (the au gratin potatoes, I will admit, were rather tempting).

Eventually, I wiped the drool from my chin, whipped out my cell phone and texted my husband. "Why am I here? I can't remember."

I threw some completely unnecessary items into the cart while waiting for his reply. (Chocolate cookies! Frozen fruit bars! These could have been my reason for shopping, couldn't they?) "What's that? The ingredients for chicken enchiladas? No problemma!"

I don't know about you, but I text for back up all the time.

My cell phone also doubles as GPS so that I don't get lost, logs me into Wikipedia for my especially stupid moments, delivers my email, and keeps track of my most important contact information. It also performs simple calculations, keeps my calendar and doubles as an alarm clock.

I would be very stupid without my cell phone.

We are all dependent upon "supported cognition" to keep ourselves moving forward in life. Calendars, calculators, computers, even to-do lists are all thinking devices, tools that keep us on track even as they reduce the load on our brains. Without these tools and supports we are much more limited in our capabilities.

We really are like computers with limited RAM; no matter how high our IQ, we can get overwhelmed when we have too much going on. But paradoxically, the more we off-load our cognition--the fancy word for thinking and other brain processes--the more we forget.

Honestly, I used to remember phone numbers like some kind of math genius. I'd make funny little equations or patterns out of them. Nowadays, I don't bother. If I want to be in contact with you, you are in my cell phone...why bother to remember in my puny little brain?

So here's a question: what work is your Inner Neanderthal outsourcing?

Maybe your laptop has completely replaced your ability to write in cursive? Maybe LL Bean makes all your cold weather gear? Maybe Safeway does all your gardening? Maybe your accountant keeps you on the right side of the law? Or perhaps your handy husband keeps nature from reclaiming your house?

Is there anything you're outsourcing that your Inner Neanderthal will want to grab back and preserve in the event of sudden, cataclysmic climate change?

What if you find you've forgotten those essentials? What if everyone you know and trust has forgotten?

It's not a big deal when we blank out in the middle of grocery shopping. But it's undoubtedly a big deal if we have collectively forgotten how to produce food and suddenly find we need to remember.

What do we collectively want and need to make a point of remembering? What ideas, skills and technologies do we want to assure are present in the future? What will ensure the survival of our grandchildren and our grandchildren's grandchildren? What will make their lives sweet, productive, bearable? What will keep them from harm and give them the tools they need to live good, healthy, happy lives?

I often ask people, "What 100 things would you pack for the ice age?" And by that, I really mean what 100 really, really important concepts, skills, ways of knowing, principles, ideas or technologies do you want to make sure get carried along through history? What 100 things, if we left them behind, would surely plunge the world into the Dark Ages?

Obviously, I need a cell phone to keep living the life I've got, but in the event of an ice age, I'd probably start with fire, followed by a toothbrush...Or maybe I'd start with the toothbrush; I've got this little obsession, you see...

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

Fascinating. It makes me think about all of the "wild" animals in the zoo and various parks that have depended on man to feed and care for them. Would they be able to survive in the wild if they had to fend for themselves? What would happen if we didn't have a grocery store, or clothing store, or home improvement store? Would we know what to do and would we be able to survive in the wild? Don't look now, but those mirrors just may be one-way and those on the other side are laughing at our impending ice age and the fact that we have no idea how to be ready.

Anonymous said...

I am really exhausted by the increased expectations for productivity brought about by "supported cognition" devices. One of the upsides of a catastrophe is that one's priorities become very clear and simple and we don't need to rely on electronics to "tend and befriend." Besides, our survival instincts take over and we really can do some problem solving around the basics. We really won't have to think about lots of details and the boring meetings illustrated by Dilbert. We'll have different things on our mind.

Anonymous said...

The first posted comment about the one way mirror reminds me of a play that I saw recently called "The Fourth Wall." It was about the boundary at the front of the stage in a theatre that separates the actors and set from the audience. It does stir one's imagination to think of that boundary as a wall, or to think of living inside an observation module with others on the outside looking through the one way mirror.

Anonymous said...

I think people have forgot how to function with out all the devices we have today. I myself am addicted to my devices but often think how nice things would be if we live in the "little house on the Pairie" days. Famlies would actly have time for each other and enjoy it! We could make our own clothes and not care what the neighbor was wearing. Make our own food and not be fat! Dont remember any fat people on that show. Must be all the hard work and walkling they did. Go Figure