Estrangement in Progress

Estrangement in Progress

Many people, today, go into their garage in the morning, drive to work, sit throughout the working day in front of a computer, and then return home again without one significant contact with another human being during the entire day. Even a withdrawal at the bank, on the way home, is simply another interaction with mechanical equipment. And on a beautiful summer day, a child might spend the entire day in front of television, with no interaction with playmates or the tangible world. This is not to say that isolation occurs only under such circumstances. One can remain equally isolated within a small circle of close friends or family or associates. And in a metropolis, numbering millions of people, one tends to be aware that it is unlikely that any particular passer-by will ever be encountered again: there appears to be little incentive, therefore, to be of assistance to another person. If it is true that we come to know ourselves through relationships and interactions with others, what does this say of our increasing, sterile isolation? Unlike isolation, solitude doesn’t disallow interrelationships. While solitude and isolation both have been, and continue to be, elements of human existence, it is isolation—and not solitude—which appears to be the predominant trend. The most saleable technology seems to be that which offers engineered escape from unmediated interaction with other—unpredictable and fallible—humans. As a comic

once quipped: “I love humanity! It’s individuals I can’t stand.”

Can we be aware of our innate capacity for the engagement of solitude (which basically can provide a movement toward freedom from attachment), and also of our tendency to yield to the impulse of isolation (which is primarily a reaction involving aversion or alienation)? There is a significant difference (as experiment will demonstrate) between risking an exploration of the unknown in solitude and, conversely, clinging to the fantasy of security in isolation.