Instant everything

Have we become addicted to instant gratification?

Everywhere we go, everywhere we look, we see some form of instant gratification.

Cellphones and computers are two of the most predominant types of instant technology - things that many of us use every day. This technology is very useful, and I still find it amazing that I’m able to send e-mails halfway across the world and have it reach the target in just a matter of seconds. Letters by mail are no longer necessary, and I’m starting to ask myself why we even bother having house phones anymore. 

People have become accustomed to the luxury of being able to reach someone almost immediately wherever and whenever they want. This instant way of communicating is spreading through every aspect of our lives, but not always in a positive way. Having all these things so conveniently available to us is transforming us into a much more impatient people with very high expectations.

If we can’t figure out a simple arithmetic problem we whip out our trusted calculator because it’s faster than using our minds. Speed dialing means we don’t need to waste time pushing several buttons, nor do we need the bother of actually remembering the numbers we are calling.

How long will it be before we choose to run through a red light to speed home to watch our favourite television program because it’s faster than waiting for the green light?

Patience may be a virtue but every day it is becoming harder and harder to find. I’m finding we live in a society where people just want things done instantly, and if it’s not then that’s a problem.

Have you noticed that our grocery bags are filling up with quick microwaveable foods? Have you ever picked up an Indian takeaway meal for two? No need to do anything other than heat through and serve. Even that two minutes of waiting while the microwave warms macaroni and cheese seems too long.

It’s these things that concern me about the future of our culture. I mean, how much easier can it be? What are we willing to sacrifice to make life even easier?

I understand many of us buy these instant meals because they’re quick and easy. We all have busy on-the-go lifestyles. But are our lives too busy to put our health and the health of our families on the line? Homemade cookies and freshly made dinners are becoming a rare thing. Have we forgotten about the unmistakably delicious taste of fresh meals, not to mention their irreplaceable nutritional value?

What makes us think that taking the easy or fast way out is ever going to get us farther than by taking the longer way?

I strongly feel that by taking the easy way out so much of the time there will end up being more negative outcomes than positive for us as a society. We love this instant way of life and we believe our lives are too short to do things the long way. But is it possible that by being addicted to those things that are “instant” that we are actually shortchanging ourselves in the longer run?

Stephanie van Pelt is planning to study journalism at university.

Space: not going there

Fiona Jones questions whether we should try to colonize the planets.                       

You know why they’ve been sending robots to Mars, don’t you? They want to send you or your children next.

They figure the earth won’t last for ever, and that even if we don’t destroy the biosphere or turn into Morlocks*, after not too many billion years the Sun will swell up and swallow Earth anyway. So we’d better make preparations to emigrate to Mars, then to somewhere in another solar system. If we get good at it, they hope, we could colonise the whole galaxy.

Of course, it’s not just about running out of Earth; there’s our innate desire to pioneer. Anyone who, in younger years, has thrilled to the words, “Space: the final frontier. These are the voyages of the Starship Enterprise” will understand exactly what I mean. (No, no, I didn’t fancy Picard, and certainly not Riker. Worf, maybe.)

However, I have two problems with space. I would love to land on Venus** or drive a probe into Jupiter’s Red Spot***–but my body’s not up to it and I don’t like the uniform. I don’t really want my sons doing it either; I’d rather they rode nice safe little motorbikes on this cosy little planet here. (Relatively speaking.)

I’m rather fond of this planet. It has a breathable atmosphere, liquid water, fantastically moderate temperatures, plants and animals to produce food, and constant gravity so our skeletons stay stable. In most places it isn’t too toxic or radioactive, and it’s cocooned in layers of protection like a baby in a cot.

We’re shielded from deadly radiation by just the right structure of atmosphere, and we’re shielded from solar flares by quite a rarity-a magnetic field. The atmosphere also slows (and usually burns up) all those meteorites whipping round space faster than bullets. As for large meteors, we’re quite a small planet and we don’t get them that often: Jupiter, having stronger gravity, sweeps them up for us. Finally, we’re out on a relatively quiet arm of the galaxy, well away from most of the supernova activity in the middle.

The cotton wool suits me. My DNA has been here for so many generations, and it would take more generations than that to get me accustomed to anywhere else. And my DNA is unlikely to be improved by being shredded with cosmic particles. Obviously I’m a homespun homebody with no sense of adventure. But just look at what you have to wear for space adventures, not to speak of eating, sleeping and toileting arrangements. The time spent travelling would kill most of us. Did you know that it might take a year and a half to even get people to Mars? That’s quite long enough for your bones to dissolve for want of gravity and your sanity to dissolve for want of normality. Whatever arrives to colonise Mars is going to be, physically and mentally, only fit for hospitalisation.

I don’t mean to be defeatist or anything, but it would almost be simpler if whatever super-tech intelligence that’s out there laughing at SETI**** could just upload and save our entire programs of being-consciousness, personality, the lot-and download them into something capable of colonising the cosmos. (And I’ll have one without cellulite, please.)

We’ve already got the curiosity, the imagination, the yearning for a destiny beyond our limits of space and time-and that’s the hard part. Compliance with codes of honour and non-destruction might of course be harder still, but they could pick and choose. And they wouldn’t have to kill us or clone us; they could just wait until we die naturally, then make sure they have our full & informed consent and all the rest of the paperwork.

I’ll tell you what: You board that spaceship and I’ll just stay here and explore the alternatives. Let’s see who gets where first.

*Underground-dwelling monsters descended from humans. HG Wells’s idea, not mine.

**Unfortunately, the last robot they sent melted long before it could land.

***Apparently it’s a rip-roaring super-hurricane that’s been tearing round the planet unabated for century after century.

****Search for Extra-Terrestrial Intelligence. It’s what scientists do when they feel lonely. Loads of them are doing it.

Fiona Jones is married to Robert Jones and has 2 children, Michael and Benjamin. Fiona sometimes works as a primary teacher or a proofreader.