Without real human connection, we’re just living in a simulation

As I drove home late Tuesday night, I realized that I’d just had a genuine human connection with someone. The entire interaction didn’t take more than 60 seconds, but it was powerful.

I have a friend who’s going through something difficult. She has to find a new place to live quickly. She’s short of money. She’s incredibly stressed.

I ran into her Tuesday night and told her something I was going to do that would bring her a couple hundred dollars, which she badly needs. It wasn’t a big effort for me, but it was huge for her. She first turned down my offer, protesting that I should take the money instead. I insisted and she hesitantly accepted.

Our eyes met for a few moments. Not the quick, polite kind of glance people exchange all day, but the kind during which neither of us looked away. For a few seconds, everything else dropped away — the noise, the distractions, the sense of being rushed. She knew I cared about her as a person. And I knew she knew.

The interaction was brief, but it was real. As I drove home, I realized how rarely that happens anymore.

I realized that most of my interactions with other people don’t feel like that. They feel thinner. Mediated. Less real. Like I’m interacting with a simulated version of someone instead of the person himself or herself. That realization — combined with the feeling of having briefly connected with this friend — made me hungry for more of what was real.

And it made the digital simulations around me seem like what they are — very pale imitations of the human connection that we all need.

Humans in the 21st century are increasingly living in a simulation of reality instead of the flesh-and-blood world we were made to inhabit.

In more and more ways, digital electronic devices mediate our experiences of the world, to the point that much of what would have been real and physical for previous generations of humans is now virtual and simulated.

We experience our connection to the rest of the world through digital devices. We get our view of the wider world through these screens — phones, computers, televisions. Many of our friends are virtual people who mostly exist as digital representations of reality.

We pursue romantic relationships with people through apps on which we make digital connections to the images and words that are projected on glowing screens. Some people even fall in love — at least the simulated kind — with these digital projections. More and more, many people are having romantic relationships with artificial personas that they know are nothing but software.

We argue online with digital representations of people we will never meet. Are these people real? We don’t really know, but we treat these projections as though they’re real, even though the real-life people behind the images might be entirely different from what we perceive.

Many people even try to find spiritual community through digital connections in cyberspace. And they treat software bots as therapists or ministers. In all too many cases, these simulations of reality are replacing the flesh-and-blood humans who can listen to us and understand both the good and bad that we bring to this difficult life.

Fewer and fewer of our experiences are analog connections with real human beings who we can see or touch or experience in person. All of this leaves us living in a kind of simulation — where reality is reduced to flickering images on screens.

We’re not going back. The digital world isn’t going away. We’re not going to stop being absorbed by the flickering images on screens. Many people are going to continue to find this digital reality more real than anything else in their lives.

The truth is that humans are social creatures, not just digital creatures. We need more than the information and facts and images that we get from the digital world. We need eye contact. We need touch. We need the sound of a human voice that cares about us.

When we’re alone in the real world, we feel it. And if we’re honest, we can hear something inside us calling out for connection — not through a screen, but through presence.

We all need a loving “someone else” — to help us grow and thrive and heal. We don’t always need magic or medicine. We often just need love and physical presence that expresses itself through focused intention.

I suspect this is one of the most pressing needs of individuals in modern society, but it’s not just those who are physically alone. Many people are surrounded by others — and have spouses who they should be able to count on — but they’re alone.

Together.

But all alone.

Most of the interactions I have with others today are digital. I’ve met some of those people in real life. Others could be completely made up, as far as I know. I don’t want to throw away all the advantages that come from being able to connect with each other digitally, but I need to add some analog connection back into my life.

I want real friendships. I want real community. I want the kind of connection that happens only when two people share the same space and give each other their full attention.

I’m not going to change all of this overnight, but my brief feeling of connection with my friend Tuesday night makes me determined to make sure the coming weeks and months and years are far more analog and far less digital.

I need human connection. And you do, too.

Note: You can find a video version of this article on YouTube. Click here.