While civilization has been improving our houses, it has not equally improved the men who are to inhabit them. It has created palaces, but it was not so easy to create noblemen and kings.
Maintenance is a low-status affair: you can confess to being unable to change a tyre in a way that you would never confess to being unable to name a play by Shakespeare.
…We understand the expertise of janitors, plumbers and mechanics, and we suffer mightily in their absence, yet somehow we take them for granted. We take for granted, too, the most basic maintenance of all — preparing food, washing clothes, changing dirty nappies. Nobody would boast at a dinner party or on a first date about doing any of this, yet it is essential.
…This is about more than breaking bridges and breaking bike chains. There is a missed opportunity here to find something rather wonderful in maintenance.
When we use non-spatial social apps, we often understand that another's cognitive presence is there, but we can't feel the more human presence we're wired to need. When we're not social distancing, we fulfill this need elsewhere, outside of software. We meet for coffee. We go on a walk. We play a game, or show a friend something funny on our phone and watch them laugh. We have infinite options at our disposal for relating to others. Though the lack of these same options inside the software we use is sometimes inconvenient, we can usually get over it.
But things are different right now. We're constrained to rely almost exclusively on software for social interaction. What are usually minor inconveniences in our existing applications are now the main factor preventing us from fulfilling our social needs.