I’m looking around a table of 18-to-24-year-olds who are taking deliberate and slightly self-conscious turns talking about themselves. They blurt out highly personal details about their family upbringing, educational background, career aspirations, and even sexual proclivities. This, despite the fact that none of them has ever met before or has any real clue as to why they’ve committed to taking four hours out of their lives to come have this discussion in the first place. A spreadsheet in front of me reveals how much money each of them makes in a year, if they live at home with the folks or rent, and if they currently hold a job, attend school or do both. Notwithstanding all this data, I can’t quite figure any of them out. But then a young woman named Maria interjects with blunt force contempt. “I think it’s incredibly annoying when I can’t reach someone on his cell phone,†she declares. “I always want an answer now.â€
Right then and there, everything stops. I lean forward in my chair and listen more closely, because she’s touched upon something that’s of particular interest to me. I’ve been anxious to hear the group’s reaction for the past hour, if only they had the knowledge that I was even present, watching and listening. You see, I’ve been sitting in a dark room behind a two-way mirror; patiently waiting for any personal revelations that may help my client better understand these individuals. I’m currently in the midst of what is known in my business as a consumer focus group study. And I’m getting paid to help a telecom giant do a better job of selling instant communications goods and services to this young adult demographic.
Until Maria spoke up, I was having a tough time paying attention, not for lack of interest, but because I was feeling overwhelmed by my assignment. I’m not that far removed in outlook from those now under my scrutiny, yet it feels incredibly futile to even pretend to be the one who can synthesize an entire generation’s point of view into a comprehensively bulleted Power Point presentation, to be distilled into a strategic marketing plan, that begets a thoroughly creative advertising campaign, whose irresistible charms persuade all 18-to-24-year-olds across the country to plunk down an extra 50 bucks a month for a thoroughly confusing bundle of telecommunications goods and services. Why go through the trouble? They’re going to switch carriers the second they discover the hidden charges. So Maria’s words leap out not just because they mirror my own sudden impatience with the task at hand, but because they’re precisely the reason why my client’s wares are so salable to this group and, I hate to admit it, myself. Our generation is cognitively fixated on the here and now.
To put it simply, we don’t like to wait. If we have a desired end in mind, we want it fast. So we reflexively grab the cell phone. Click on the mouse. Push a few buttons. Anything to make it happen. Instantly. And if we can’t get it, we can always change the channel. Why wait? I catch occasional glimpses of the Iraq War on TV. New attacks. More casualties. No clear deadline. To be perfectly blunt, it’s too slow. The Iraq War Movie In My Mind should have rolled credits by now—it’s time to go home to sleep. I realize it’s an outrageous thing to say, since many people my age and younger are dying an untimely death. But I’m far away from the struggle and also have a telecom giant to please, so it’s easier to tune the news out and focus on the present. According to folks in Washington, that’s what I’m supposed to do, correct? Go about my daily business just like any other day. If nothing else, to grease the wheels of the economy that’s underwriting the war in the first place. Plus I have student loans, car payments and high-tech purchases to keep up with. In short, immediate financial pursuits seem far more relevant to me than World Peace. The latter is better left to the Powers That Be.
It’s certainly selfish of me to think like this. But for those of us reared on the creature comforts of instant gratification—cell phones, the Internet, Viagra, BlackBerrys, iPods, and TiVo—some of the very technologies that my client, that generations above mine, directly or indirectly created and continuously profit from, it’s tough not to be focused on personal wants. These media completely redefine our conceptions of time and space, the repercussions of which go far beyond the simple convenience of downloading our favorite song in a heartbeat. Communications technologies have fast created a young adult culture driven by desire on demand. No matter the whim, there’s a button we can push that will satisfy it faster and with less effort expended than ever before. Why take the time to read a newspaper when CNN is always available? Never mind the fact I’m behind the wheel of an SUV, hurtling down a residential street at 65 mph, I need one of my hands to make a cell phone call—now. Who’s the honey on the cover of Maxim? I’ll Google some pics of her bosom in a blink. It’s all about me. The power of me. To point, click and do. To get what I want, whenever and however I want it; and to have others never stop working for me. It’s the reason I see, want, purchase, discard and replace things so quickly. Whether it’s a news story from across the globe or a Nintendo Wii at the local Best Buy. I just need the latest and greatest. Don’t bore me with anything else. A balanced federal budget? Who cares? The only deficit my generation suffers from is attention. And the easiest way to address it is by providing an endless supply of readily available information for instantaneous consumption. So whether by presidential decree or technological nurture, it’s virtually impossible for me to delay gratification and think in the long term.
It would be tougher to follow this thought pattern if current economic conditions weren’t so conducive to it. The economy remains so strong, our mortgage crisis notwithstanding, that life in the good ol’ U.S.A. remains pretty much unchanged for most of us young adults. You’d be hard pressed to find any city in the nation directly affected by the war—no mandatory nighttime blackouts, air raid drills or factory work as in wars of yore. The wars in Iraq and Afghanistan are happening now, but they’re far away, in a desert on the other side of the world. And if you’re not a resident of a state that’s affected by a major hurricane, flood or tornado, those disasters might as well be a hemisphere away too. Television and the Internet may bring events like these “closer†to us than ever before, but they also give us the option to tune them out with Entertainment Tonight and Survivor at the push of a button. If we can’t actually perceive the adverse effects of wars and disasters in our daily lives, why dwell on them via the TV or Web? (Especially when it’s so easy to flip the switch.) Out of sight, out of mind. It’s both the triumph and tragedy of a country as robust as ours. We can launch a major conflict across the globe and feel nary a ripple on our shores. Sure we could be more conscientious, but boy is it hard when life’s so comfy at home. We have the luxury of focusing on the trivial. Forget wars and floods, we like Dancing with the Stars because it’s not the least bit demanding. Ditto for American Idol. Paris Hilton. And MTV. Given the choice, we’ll easily take the path of least resistance. And that’s exactly what our mighty technology-driven economy affords us: the power to take it easy.
So as I sit here watching the focus group unanimously agree with Maria’s unwillingness to accept an unanswered cell phone call, I’m afraid I have to concur. Even as I realize that this consensus betrays our absolute surrender to the advantages of information technology. We are children of privilege; the economic and technological privilege that spares us the rod of harsh reality while spoiling our every desultory whim. On second thought, it won’t be so hard to sell others on the benefits of advanced telephony, Internet and cable. I just found the urge.
I can’t wait.
Javier San Miguel, Senior Copywriter, Web Content Editor
