Present Shock: When Everything Happens Now
Author: Douglas Rushkoff
Rating: â 4/5
Date Read: 2013/05/05
Pages: 296
A word of warning: if you read this book, youâre going to have to accept that media theorists do not have to present empirical evidence to argue a point. Examples here are cherry-picked from a vast landscape of television shows and websites and films, without mention of base rates, variance, statistical significance, and other figures that scientific types (such as myself) rely on to make sense of data. Of course, lack of any real evidence doesnât stop Rushkoff from making claims about causality. If only doing science were so easy.
Bottom line: thereâs no science in this book, despite what goodreads might lead to you believe. Indeed, the library of congress shelved it under âtechnology - social aspectsâ and âtechnology - philosophy.â (If the library of congress had a heading for âcurmudgeony polemics against kids these daysâ it might go under that too, although Rushkoff loves technology enough that no LOC librarian worth his or her salt would file this under âluddite.â)
Anyway, itâs best to get over the lack of data, because Rushkoff compellingly argues that our post-narrative, post-structuralist, post-everything, post-nothing world is always going on in the present, even as none of us really live in the moment.
An aside (in a post-narrative world, my writing is not required to be linear, or even informative: the most important thing is to capture attention): Iâm often impressed by my own facility with pop-culture references in popular media. I donât have cable, I spend most of my summer actively avoiding invitations to inane sequels to even more inane blockbusters, and I couldnât pick of-the-moment pop hacks like Justin Bieber or Adele out of a lineup. But, âmetaâ shows like Community seem to be aimed at me, because I do know a Goodfellas reference or a parody of a narrative trope when I see one. In creating a corps of viewers who wonât bother with the history of cinema (or music, or art, or anything), who stare blankly when they hear names like âIngmar Bergmanâ or âDavid O. Selznickâ or âLaura Palmer,â popular satirical television shows have, ironically, selected for exactly the audience that wonât get the jokes.
Back to the book. Rushkoffâs argument is presented in a few broad strokes, which resemble the colorful, self-contained rectangles of a Mondrian painting. He jumps all over the place, talking about investment banking, post-narrative collapse, digiphrenia (being more than one digital being at once), Facebook, conspiracy theorists, and the apocalypse. I was surprised to hear about the benefits of barter economies and alternative currencies, although Iâm not sure how that fits in with anything. The book is about as rambling as this review, albeit more successful at conveying actual information.
Whatâs the solution to present shock? Perhaps the 21st century version of Walden consists of simply unplugging the modem, switching the iPhone to âdo not disturb,â cracking open a book, and listening to Highway 61 Revisited on vinyl. Maybe reconnecting with nature means strolling along Clark street without listening to music through headphones. Just typing that makes the future seem bleak, not least because I know few people would deign to exist apart from the electronic crutch of Facebook profiles and Twitter feeds. The only solution I can offer is a personal refusal to become a blankly-buzzing drone.
If youâre interested in this book, you may want to check out this interview with the author on the Joe Rogan Experience, which I found rather enjoyable.