18 PUNCHMAGAZINE.COM {sloane citron} It got me realizing that there really wasn’t much of a difference in experience between large corporate-owned stores and Amazon anymore. The advantage of the store is that you can see a product and take it home with you. Amazon’s advantage—which seems to give it an insurmountable lead over, well, everyone—is its ability to deliver your goods the next day from an endless selection at an unbeatable price. Once you are home from your soulless, human-free day out, there is little conversation with your family because they are absorbed by their phones or iPads. And instead of calling someone on the phone to see how they’re doing—and to hear the emotions and nuances in their voices—we text them or maybe email or WhatsApp them. One can literally go through a full day—out and about and “communicating” with others—with no meaningful human interaction. I think we underestimate how much is lost when we eliminate the conversations—even the small ones—in our day. Just saying, “Hello, how are you?” or “How’s your day been?” brings a touch of humanity to us all. Soulless. That’s where we are and we’re diving in deeper with AI, which will only make matters worse. Even with my introverted personality, I am trying to engage just about every human I encounter. My friend Dan showed me the way. Ask a waiter about themself; ask the postman about his routes; open doors for everyone; help an older person or a young mother navigate their way. Fight it and don’t give in. Don’t let the soullessness being foisted upon us turn you into a soulless person. Make local bookstores, mom-and-pop restaurants and independent hardware stores your destinations. And while you’re there, make sure to ask everyone how their day is going. I watch as the world moves forward, and I’m not impressed. Those of us alive today seem destined to accept that which is put in front of us, without the ability to change much. The untouchable corporate and internet world dominates most of what we buy, watch and read. No longer are there many alternatives, places we can give our business and where we might find an owner who would actually take the time and care to serve us. Along the way, I’ve come to believe that we are part of a growing, unrelentingly soulless society. I looked up the definition of “soulless” and it said, “the lack of human feelings and qualities,” and that is indeed how we now live much of our lives, reduced to dealing with computers at every stage of our day, with little opportunity to be heard or to live differently. Because machines are so capable today, it is far easier and cheaper for the companies that dominate our lives to make us live in a world without human contact. If you have an issue with Google, Amazon, Netflix or Facebook, go ahead and try to find a human to help you. It’s possible to go through a whole day and never have a conversation with another person. That doesn’t sound good and it’s certainly not a recipe for a healthy and fulfilling life. Yesterday, I had to go to Ikea, my least favorite store, to buy a shelving unit that holds metal baskets. We use them in our playroom so that the plethora of toys, games, puzzles, Legos and books can be organized, at least while the nine grandkids (all age six and under) aren’t there. I preplanned my visit so that I could avoid the labyrinth-like layout that defines the store. When I could not find the location of the boxes I needed, I asked an employee who, without a word, pointed to a screen a short distance away where I could look it up myself. I eventually found my box and headed to the shortest line—which was the self-check-out line. I went through it without a word to anyone. From there, I had lunch with a friend at a new, hip Palo Alto restaurant. Though it is rather expensive and high-end, we had to place our order on a screen at the front. A sign pointed to where we would pick up our food when it was ready. If you wanted water, there was a selfserve area for filling a glass. When I realized that we would literally have no human connection, I was a bit flummoxed when the machine gave me the options for a 15-, 18- or 20-percent tip. How about none—does that work for you? After lunch, I headed to Target to look for a 49ers shirt for my grandson Noah’s third birthday. The store was cold and lifeless. There was no music, nothing cheerful, nothing to make my experience enjoyable. I couldn’t find a football jersey (or anyone to ask about it) but there was a nice one for the Giants, so I walked to the front, where the self-check-out line beckoned. Again, I was in and out of the store without any interaction with a human. These stores are all competing for their lives with Amazon, that great killer of everything dear—a monolith that our government has allowed to grow unchecked, destroying everything in its wake, from bookstores and toy stores to pharmacies and delivery companies. soulless
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