Look up: part 2 | how good is real life
- Jamie Clark
- Mar 22
- 2 min read
Updated: Mar 23
Seven people are at a metro station.
What percentage of them do you think will be looking down on their phones vs the people who are looking up?
Is this about right?
Look at the woman in the black t-shirt, just sitting there. With her thoughts.
Early morning commuting is fascinating.
The zombie-like behaviour of half-asleep travellers, the little squinty eyes blinking at the sudden exposure to daylight, and the moment of realisation - I haven't checked my phone in over eight hours.
Eight hours. That’s a lot of catching up to do on the digital sphere.
Social media updates, replying to messages, a quick scan of the news, then, of course, the descent into endless 'scrolling'. Notifications buzzing from countless apps, the dopamine hit of new content.
It’s good stuff, right? All that information, right there, right now.
Head down. Headphones in.
To me, it's like a silent declaration: I only want to partially be part of the physical world. The digital world offers so much, and so to some extent, I'll choose to prioritise it.
And consequently, there are the moments we miss when we’re tuned in elsewhere.
That fleeting eye contact with a stranger. A cheeky buenos días with a fellow commuter. The kind of interactions that makes life feel a little more connected, a little more real. Social skills sharpened, and the small acts of bravery in acknowledging another human being in the present. It's a wonderful feeling.
A person looking up? Present.
A person with a phone (and AirPods?). 50% elsewhere
And it shows.
I recently watched an older waiter, probably in his early 60s, bid farewell to a group of young customers. He extended a genuine, warm goodbye, aimed at people too deep in their headphone-wrapped worlds to notice. He lingered for a second, his face falling as the lack of response sank in.
It's subtle, but these moments stack up.
And it's not fair.
This waiter was part of the 'silent generation'.
Source: Reviews.org
And we know the feeling, the moment when you’re mid-conversation with someone, sharing a thought, a story, an idea - only for them to casually drift back to their phone.
No matter how interesting you may consider the topic, the siren call of the screen is stronger.
I hope for the day when in-person interaction once again takes precedence over whatever the algorithm offers up. When life feed is more important than live feed.
AI and technology have made our lives efficient enough. We’re optimized, connected, plugged in. Maybe now is the time to lean into what makes us uniquely human.
Because, even with all the technology, people are searching even more for connection.
Our personalities, creativity, the ability to observe, to learn, to engage in the world around us. Tuning in to that, I believe, will give us meaningful connection.
Because if we’re only ever half-here, what are we missing?
And what we're missing, might just be so good.