It’s finally summer, and the top is permanently battened down on the Miata. It’s glorious to drive it, especially in the early morning: the wind buffets from all directions, the pebbles in the road surface transmit through the tires, the sun glows from all directions, the exhaust note burbles in response to any throttle input … I’m immersed in the environment, and whatever input I give, I get immediate feedback.
It’s quite a contrast to other cars I’ve driven, which are premised on the obliteration of feedback: symphony-hall-quality sound systems, hermetically-sealed cabin air conditioning, sound-deadening insulation, and a host of high-tech distractions. A sports car, a motorcycle, a jet ski or sailboat—all pay homage to the power of feedback, all can provide an experience of full awareness and control.
It’s something I teach my media classes at the very beginning of every quarter: without good feedback, there’s no real communication. Any message has to pass through a number of barriers on its path from sender to receiver, overcoming the hurdles of encoding (choosing the appropriate symbols, whether words, images, or even musical notes, to represent the thought; filters, both physical and psychological (we tend to “tune out” messages we don’t like to hear); “noise” and static; the receiver’s own “decoding” (what we say is not always what the receiver hears) … As anyone who’s ever participated in the childhood game of Telephone well knows, what we start out saying often ends up as something very different on the other end. The only way to measure the accuracy of the communication is to provide feedback to the sender. And that feedback may well be uncomfortable or unpleasant.
Without feedback, there’s no true communication, no exchange of ideas, just a one-way shout. But with the wrong kind of feedback, the kind that sets up a resonance, something even worse occurs: a feedback loop. The signal amplifies—becomes “purer”-- the filters fail, and the message evolves into an ear-splitting squeal. We cover our ears and seek to shut out the noise.
I recently read The Filter Bubble, by Eli Pariser, which argues that modern data-mining technology is creating this very kind of feedback loop. As our internet clicks are gathered and collated, our online personas are analyzed, refined, and narrowed into tidy marketing niches. We are, increasingly, provided messages that resonate with our pre-existing beliefs and desires; we are offered the products, services and ideas we already want and agree with. As we insulate ourselves with the comfortable and shut out conflicting information, we’re setting up our own feedback loops.
And here’s the problem. Too many of us these days are metaphorically driving luxury cars with windows up, radios permanently tuned to the same talk shows, and A/C blasting. Modern communication technology has made it easy for us to hear only what we want to hear and see only what we want to see—and it’s driving us apart. We’re believing crazy things: that the President is a Muslim, that allowing people to commit in love to each other will somehow destroy society, that gluten-free foods are good for us, that the lives of celebrities are meaningful and important … and that our tribe of congenial fellow-thinkers is all that matters.
