The Informational Narcotic

Consider this: in the whole of human history, there has never been such an explosion of "content" as has happened since the launch of the internet. What does this mean for you and me? Well, I believe that if digital enthnographers around thew world had their way, it would be to say "keep it up."

We cannot possibly consume, let alone synthesize and understand, all the content that is posted each day. What this results in could be called content overload decision paralysis. What to look at next? Do I need to read it? Do I even want to know? What additional options will be presented to me once that "next" page opens? Read text? Watch video? Listen to podcast?

When you stop to think about it, it's a seemingly never-ending highway of decisions that can make your head spin. In my case, it's like wandering through the woods without a compass: I can see what's around me and make a decision on my general direction, but I cannot be wholly aware of when a snake will pop out, a bird will fly by, or the breeze will blow, distracting my attention to something different.

Surfing the web is decidely UNlike orienteering. Where orienteering sets out a specific number of control markers which the particpant must find (generally in a particular order), when you get off-track, you know that you have to go back to get that missed marker if you want to complete the course. Surfing the web is random, elective, spontaneous, and it has no definitive start or finish. It's self-prescribed entertainment, an informational narcotic that keeps the curious (or bored) person on an endless road of click, click, clicking.

It's easy to see how people can get addicted to the "power" of web surfing - there is so much to read, see, and vicariously experience - and lose themselves online. Perhaps it's why avatars are growing in cultural importance these days. More on that later....