Jeff Bezos is the Devil
You'd have to be a millennial Rip Van Winkle to not know who Jeff Bezos is. The founder of Amazon is famous for becoming (at least as of this writing) the richest man on the planet. Owning a digital empire that includes a vast retail operation, a national newspaper and even his own space flight program, Bezos has succeeded beyond anyone's wildest internet dreams.
He's definitely the most successful man on the planet. But I submit to you he is also the most evil.
Never mind his personal peccadilloes. That he's leaving his wife of 25 years for an aging ex-beauty queen holds no currency for me, moral or otherwise. The rumors swirling about deplorable working conditions of his thousands of employees doesn't interest me either, because I have no idea if any of those stories are based in fact. No, what makes Jeff Bezos the most evil man on the planet is something altogether different:
Jeff Bezos is the man most responsible for the breakdown of human social interaction that's crippled us in more ways than you can imagine. Allow me to explain:
Prior to Amazon, the quickest way to buy a book, special order a hammer or purchase a pair of shoes required two important factors:
1. Time
2. Human interaction
No matter what you wanted to buy, you had to move yourself to a brick and mortar destination, at which point your only choice was talk to a real person face to face. That interaction required thoughtfulness, courtesy, clarity and quite often, a little casual humor. It reinforced a bond or helpfulness and broke down barriers among strangers. Once that connection was established, the conversation usually resulted in one of two outcomes: the salesman either had what you wanted in stock or if the item were not in stock, he'd order it for you. At best, the transaction was completed in a matter of hours (by the time you returned home with your purchase); at worst, it would be weeks before the item arrived at the store for you to pick up, necessitating yet another trip. For the record, you should know that along with commercial transactions, a substantial number of friendships, courtships and marriages got started this way.
Jeff Bezos destroyed all that.
Today, if you wish to purchase just about anything, you simply look at a screen, point and click. For no fee, the item will arrive at your doorstep in a day or three. For a few bucks more, it will arrive the very next day. And if you order early enough in the day, it might just arrive before tonight's dinner.
No human interaction. No waiting. Just quick, cold service that panders to your whims.
It all sounds wonderful until you realize that an entire generation has grown into adulthood lacking any sense of patience or communication skills. People don't initiate relationships in real time any more; it's all done via text. And texting isn't a dialogue. It's a two-way monologue, a series of one-sided comments launched into the ether at no particular time for no particular reason, totally lacking the subtle vocal responses and timing cues that are essential to meaningful conversation. Likewise, people have lost all sense of patience, demanding instant results and getting angry when their needs aren't immediately served -- or their texts aren't immediately acknowledged.
But it gets worse. More evil.
If Bezos's pioneering were strictly limited to the commercial sector, I wouldn't be writing this. But the fact is that his model has proliferated, permeating and polluting our social and political environment. He has created a model which negates the need for human interaction, replacing it with a sense of selfish entitlement. What he's sold as convenience has simply removed all human contact, increasing polarization, isolation and serious cases of depression. Enhanced by the false notion of "luxury marketing" we end up with a society that turns to Siri instead of its friends, and insists on Peleton bikes in their living rooms instead of communing with other humans at the local gym.
Then people wonder why they end up single, alone and living with their cats.
It doesn't stop there, either. Politically, the United States has always endured widespread factionalism. From 1776 onward, debate has raged throughout the land over policies and practices. That's nothing new. What is new is the deeply-rooted divisiveness, because prior to this century, our social and political fabric was woven with far less self-interest and far more collective responsibility. We got along because we were all interdependent. That, I'm sad to say, is no more. Today, schools no longer teach the basics on which our society exists, choosing instead to "cater to the individual needs of each student."
And then you wonder why those kids just want to play video games in their parents' basements.
Today, thanks largely to Jeff Bezos and his irresponsible ilk, the very best of humanity has been undermined, reducing us to a bunch of isolated, miserable peons, each in his own little box wondering how he became so miserable in a world so full of promise. Nobody, it seems, is interested in anyone or anything beyond his own wants and needs. It's heartbreaking and I blame Jeff Bezos for all of that.
Then again, while Jeff Bezos may have robbed us of our humanity, it's only because we've allowed him to. If you don't take back your humanity, he remains the most evil man in the world.
But you're running a close second.
He's definitely the most successful man on the planet. But I submit to you he is also the most evil.
Never mind his personal peccadilloes. That he's leaving his wife of 25 years for an aging ex-beauty queen holds no currency for me, moral or otherwise. The rumors swirling about deplorable working conditions of his thousands of employees doesn't interest me either, because I have no idea if any of those stories are based in fact. No, what makes Jeff Bezos the most evil man on the planet is something altogether different:
Jeff Bezos is the man most responsible for the breakdown of human social interaction that's crippled us in more ways than you can imagine. Allow me to explain:
Prior to Amazon, the quickest way to buy a book, special order a hammer or purchase a pair of shoes required two important factors:
1. Time
2. Human interaction
No matter what you wanted to buy, you had to move yourself to a brick and mortar destination, at which point your only choice was talk to a real person face to face. That interaction required thoughtfulness, courtesy, clarity and quite often, a little casual humor. It reinforced a bond or helpfulness and broke down barriers among strangers. Once that connection was established, the conversation usually resulted in one of two outcomes: the salesman either had what you wanted in stock or if the item were not in stock, he'd order it for you. At best, the transaction was completed in a matter of hours (by the time you returned home with your purchase); at worst, it would be weeks before the item arrived at the store for you to pick up, necessitating yet another trip. For the record, you should know that along with commercial transactions, a substantial number of friendships, courtships and marriages got started this way.
Jeff Bezos destroyed all that.
Today, if you wish to purchase just about anything, you simply look at a screen, point and click. For no fee, the item will arrive at your doorstep in a day or three. For a few bucks more, it will arrive the very next day. And if you order early enough in the day, it might just arrive before tonight's dinner.
No human interaction. No waiting. Just quick, cold service that panders to your whims.
It all sounds wonderful until you realize that an entire generation has grown into adulthood lacking any sense of patience or communication skills. People don't initiate relationships in real time any more; it's all done via text. And texting isn't a dialogue. It's a two-way monologue, a series of one-sided comments launched into the ether at no particular time for no particular reason, totally lacking the subtle vocal responses and timing cues that are essential to meaningful conversation. Likewise, people have lost all sense of patience, demanding instant results and getting angry when their needs aren't immediately served -- or their texts aren't immediately acknowledged.
But it gets worse. More evil.
If Bezos's pioneering were strictly limited to the commercial sector, I wouldn't be writing this. But the fact is that his model has proliferated, permeating and polluting our social and political environment. He has created a model which negates the need for human interaction, replacing it with a sense of selfish entitlement. What he's sold as convenience has simply removed all human contact, increasing polarization, isolation and serious cases of depression. Enhanced by the false notion of "luxury marketing" we end up with a society that turns to Siri instead of its friends, and insists on Peleton bikes in their living rooms instead of communing with other humans at the local gym.
Then people wonder why they end up single, alone and living with their cats.
It doesn't stop there, either. Politically, the United States has always endured widespread factionalism. From 1776 onward, debate has raged throughout the land over policies and practices. That's nothing new. What is new is the deeply-rooted divisiveness, because prior to this century, our social and political fabric was woven with far less self-interest and far more collective responsibility. We got along because we were all interdependent. That, I'm sad to say, is no more. Today, schools no longer teach the basics on which our society exists, choosing instead to "cater to the individual needs of each student."
And then you wonder why those kids just want to play video games in their parents' basements.
Today, thanks largely to Jeff Bezos and his irresponsible ilk, the very best of humanity has been undermined, reducing us to a bunch of isolated, miserable peons, each in his own little box wondering how he became so miserable in a world so full of promise. Nobody, it seems, is interested in anyone or anything beyond his own wants and needs. It's heartbreaking and I blame Jeff Bezos for all of that.
Then again, while Jeff Bezos may have robbed us of our humanity, it's only because we've allowed him to. If you don't take back your humanity, he remains the most evil man in the world.
But you're running a close second.
1 Comments:
Picture me, in a dusty junk shop, admiring a Nagel poster. Remembering days gone by, basking in nostalgia, wondering if I should make the purchase. I decide against it, but the memory of Nagel stays with me the rest of the day and into the next day. So, I Google Nagel and arrive at his Wikipedia. I had forgotten most if not all of his personal life details. I see that a book has been written about his life. I'm intrigued. I go to Amazon to see about it and I find you. What is a Frankel, I wonder...so I cross reference with Twitter and I find your blog. Your glorious truth filled blog! Not some bullshit ramblings of someone who fancies himself an author, but a well thought out commentary on the decline of social skills. Thank you. By the way, instead of the Nagel poster, I purchased a Tom Wolfe hardcover instead.
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