The death of conversation | Babycakes Romero | TEDxBergamo

In this thought-provoking, call-to-action talk, photographer Babycakes Romero leads us thorough his images of smartphones interrupting human connection all around the world. Can we change the way we relate to others and to our phones? You decide.

Full bio on babycakesromero.com

This talk was given at a TEDx event using the TED conference format but independently organized by a local community. Learn more at http://ted.com/tedx

I can't quite remember
exactly when or where it was

I first took a picture
of two people on their phones.

But what I do recall
is how their perfect symmetry struck me.

Two human beings locked simultaneously,
yet separately, in the same action:

eyes down, faces lit up,
utterly still and silent.

They completely mirrored each other.

But normally, when that happens in life,
it means people are connected,

but they weren't, they were disconnected.

Side by side, yet they couldn't
have been further apart.

It really appealed to me
on a visual level.

But as I started
to photograph these people,

I noticed they didn't even seem present.

They were plugged in,
they were consumed by a digital domain.

They were in the Matrix.

They didn't have a cable
coming out of the back of their necks,

and they couldn't learn jiujitsu
in a blink of an eye,

but they were choosing to be
in a virtual world over the real world.

This was something new,
a modern phenomenon.

It was exciting and weird,
and I felt I had to document it.

Mobile phones had obviously
been around for a while,

and had already intruded upon our lives.

But not to this extent,
not across the board.

I never set out specifically
to photograph people on their phones -

I just saw it everywhere,

all the time, wherever I went.

And the more pictures I took,
the more I saw.

I saw friends withdrawing from each other,

prioritizing their phone life
over their real life,

without a thought or a concern
for those around them.

I saw couples who could no longer
communicate - the dining dead -

use it to fill the silence,

to hide their lost connection.

I saw shy people use it as a prop
to disguise their social awkwardness.

I saw the rejection on people's faces
as they were superseded for a device.

I saw all of this because -

not just because I am a photographer,

an observer, a voyeur
into the lives of others,

but because it was happening
to me as well.

I was surrounded by people
not talking to me.

I just felt like saying,
"You're in company, act like it!

Didn't we arrange to meet
so we could chat and hang out?

Isn't it why we're here?"

If there had been any etiquette in place

for the use of mobile phones
in social situations,

it had utterly disappeared.

What I couldn't understand, though,
was why no one was talking about it.

They just kind of ignored the fact
that it was happening.

I just saw these people on their phones

and I just felt, you know,
we should be talking to each other.

I personally didn't want
a smartphone myself

because I could see
how all-consuming they were.

It was a can of worms
I didn't want to open.

Problem was, pretty much
everyone else had.

I was surrounded by worms

and empty cans,

but mainly by people on their smartphones.

I was raised in an analogue era

where, yes, if you wanted
to get ahold of someone,

you had to phone a building
and hope they were in it.

But maybe because I remember
time before mobile phones,

I remembered that being out with people
used to be more... fun.

By all means -

look at your status update, your eBay bid,
Kim Kardashian's ass -

(Laughter)

whatever it is - please, be my guest.

Just... do it on your own time.

You know, if I wanted to sit in silence
and watch someone stare at a screen,

I could have gone to the cinema.

I guess I rather optimistically thought

if I could just get
the pictures out there,

I could maybe reflect
people's own behaviour back to them,

and it might make them question
their own usage,

I could start a discussion,
get a debate going.

I thought maybe I'd get
a couple of re-tweets out of it

at the very least.

Nothing could've prepared me
for the reaction I got.

I uploaded the gallery of photographs
which I entitled, rather morosely,

"The Death of Conversation"
onto a website called Bored Panda,

and it just went nuts.

The pictures went viral,
and within a matter of days,

were seen by millions of people
in every continent around the world.

It was incredible to watch them spread
as far and as fast as they did.

But the enormous global response,
from Bolivia to Bulgaria and back again,

showed what a problem it'd become
in almost every society.

The hundreds and hundreds of comments left

on all the different websites,
in all the different countries

actually revealed
a very similar experience.

There were naturally those who were
defensive of their smartphone use.

But a huge chunk thought it was damaging
and hurtful and so sad

that this communications technology
was making us disconnect

from each other in person.

I wasn't the first person to take pictures
of people on their phones,

but I think my pictures arrived at a time

when people were just starting
to be fed up with it,

and they mirrored
this largely unspoken feeling.

Here are a few
of the more poignant remarks

left on the Bored Panda website.

"...people hardly talk
to each other now, it's sad,

I used to be happier hanging out
with friends... but not anymore".

"I see this everywhere.
Even my wife does this and it sucks.

I try to be close to her
but that phone is always in my way".

"I am looking at my husband
while he is scrolling down his phone,

he has the same look on his face".

"This is so depressing -
reminds me of lunch with my family!"

Finally, "I feel the pain
in these photos...

I very often am left alone
while in company".

What these honest
and heartfelt comments showed

was that this very modern experience
was making people genuinely miserable.

And the source of their unhappiness
was being generated largely

by the actions of their partners,
their friends, and their family.

The Internet has brought people together
in the most incredible of ways.

But face-to-face communication
and online communication

are actually in conflict as they battle
for your attention and time.

When you allow your device
to take precedence

over the person you are with,

you're essentially saying

that whatever or whoever
you're interacting with on your phone

is more important than them.

It lowers their self-worth by default.

There was a scientific study done
at the University of Essex

by Andrew Przybylski and Netta Weinstein,

which showed that people bonded less
when their phones were visible.

Just out on the table, not even in use.

Imagine the effect they have
when people are actually on them.

But what were people getting
from a machine

that they couldn't get from a person?

What was in here that wasn't out here?

Most people turn to their phones

to look at work e-mails
or to check social media.

In either case, they are looking to see
if anyone has been in touch.

These devices are satisfying
our narcissistic needs

as we know that everything on them
somehow relates to us.

The payoff is you get
a little shot of dopamine

every time you get a notification.

It makes you feel good.

As I've said, I don't have a smartphone,

but I do check Instagram
throughout the day on my iPad,

looking for these little orange hearts.

But whatever there is is never enough,

and you're always left wanting more.

These computer cuddles are, in fact,
a poor facsimile to the real thing.

Compared to human hugs
they are like mp3 to vinyl,

Skype to face-to-face chat.

What was fascinating and somewhat ironic,

is that people were turning their backs
on their loved ones,

who could provide
actual physical affection,

in favour of a digital approximation.

We are emotional creatures,
and we need human to human contact.

It is essential to our well-being.

So why were people choosing
digital communication

over its real-life counterpart?

I think, for a lot of people these days,

they find it less stressful
to interact by type than by talk.

When you communicate online,

you have time to think
about your response,

you can deliver your best line,
be the ultimate version of yourself.

This is very appealing compared
to the normal pressures of conversation.

Face-to-face interactions
can be really tough sometimes,

and often make people feel
anxious and awkward.

In the UK, for example,

we have a very simple solution
to deal with these feelings.

It's called alcohol.

(Laughter)

And it's traditionally been
the go-to social prop for many.

But now people were turning
to their smartphones also

as a way to cope.

The difference is,

alcohol is a very effective
social lubricant - up to a certain point.

(Laughter)

But smartphones actually
exacerbate the problem

as they allow people to withdraw
rather than engage.

Before smartphones,
if a conversation dipped,

you worked double time to get it rolling.

And it was in these moments
you could maybe escape

the horrors of small talk,

and arrive at something
approaching genuine communication.

That was when you bonded,
that was when the magic happened.

These moments are being eroded
by our ability to turn to our devices.

In Ruby Wax's book "Sane New World,"

she explains the science
behind mindfulness,

and how the key to happiness
is to live in the moment

and to be truly present.

These devices, they send
your focus elsewhere,

and your enjoyment levels diminish,

as you're not giving anything
or anyone your full attention.

It is, in fact, our ability to multitask,

which has not only been
greatly exaggerated,

it is, in fact, a total fallacy.

Earl Miller, a neuroscientist at MIT,

proves that we are not capable
of processing two things at once.

It's an illusion -

all we are doing is switching rapidly
from one to the other.

But you don't really need
scientific evidence.

If you've ever tried to have
a conversation with someone

whilst they're gazing into their phone,

you will notice -
after a few "mm-hmm" and "uh-huh",

it's pretty evident they're not listening.

They are barely even know you're there.

You could be on fire,
and they probably wouldn't notice.

You could take a picture of yourself,
post it on Instagram,

they might see and like it,
but they still would do nothing about it,

because they themselves are not present.

And so it would appear

that these devices which were designed
to facilitate our lives

are, in fact, affecting our relationships,

our ability to communicate in person,

and are an obstacle
to us living in the moment -

all of which have been proven to be
the main sources of happiness in life.

Smartphones are genuinely starting
to affect social cohesion.

And if we do not learn
how to switch them off,

we will become permanently
switched off from each other.

So, what are the possible solutions?

Well, in the aftermath
of my viral activity,

I was contacted by various movements
such as FreeConvo,

who organise impromptu events
to encourage people to meet face-to-face.

They've had a fantastic response,

and they now have meetings
happening all over the world.

I had tech designers get in touch
to tell me they were designing apps

to help restrict people's phone use.

I had the owner of a restaurant
in Boston contact me

to tell me he was so fed up with people
not talking in his establishment,

he was offering free meals to anyone
who didn't use their phone at the table.

Even a guy in New York got in touch

to say that when him
and his friends get together,

they all have to put
their phones in the middle,

and the first person to go for theirs

has to get the bill.

(Laughter)

We need more ideas like this
to help restrict phone use

and establish some basic boundaries.

The rise of the smartphone was rapid,

and there simply wasn't time
to implement any social etiquette

regarding their use.

But now there is,

and we must do something to stop
the detrimental effect they are having.

Just as calculators killed
mental arithmetic,

and GPS is annihilating
our navigational skills,

so, too, will we eventually unlearn
how to communicate in person.

This technology is effectively
creating human devolution

as our skill sets diminish.

If we lose our interpersonal skills,
we will end up isolated and alone,

with all our virtual friends
locked in a tiny bit of tech

in the palm of our hand.

We live in a world
of perception, not reality.

The brain gets just 10% of its information
from the optic nerve,

and the remaining 90%, it builds
from what it already has on the inside.

Which means, it's literally creating
the world around you from within.

So, we are already living
in a virtual reality of our own making,

even without our devices.

The only time we are able to break out
of this bubble perspective

is when we communicate
genuinely with each other,

not just paying lip service,
not pretending to listen,

not just waiting for the other one
to stop talking so you can say your bit.

We must try harder than that.

We must try to understand
what it's like to be them,

to think how they think,
to feel how they feel.

This is empathy, and we paradoxically
need it for our own selfish reasons.

Existence can be a lonely business.

To empathise and to be truly present
with those you are with

is what binds us together
and makes us feel less alone.

Next time you reach for your smartphone,

you might want to consider all of this
and ask yourself the question,

"Do I really need to look at it?

Like, really really?"

Grazie.

(Applause)