How is it that we have become so reliant on computers? It has gotten to the point where I cannot even begin to formulate thoughts for a composition unless I am sitting in front of a white screen, keys at my fingertips. It is a strange phenomenon: the very instrument that was meant to aid us has, in some ways, stunted our ability to think. Is it merely a Pavlovian response? Have we become so used to thinking in cohesive sentences for long periods of time in front of the computer that our brain cells awaken and snap into action at the mere sight of one-just as Pavlov's dogs salivated at the sound of a bell? Or is it the result of something far more sinister?

What would happen if we just decided to get rid of all our computers one day? (It is unlikely; recently our Internet connection failed, and we had not been disconnected for five minutes when my roommate said, "I miss the Internet.") Would we all go back to pen and paper? Would I, God forbid, have to go back and train my Pavlovian mind to think with just pen and paper? Or would we once again create some type of technological device, infinitely more stimulating than a blank sheet of paper with lines on it?

Is it our modern-day need for constant stimulation that has deadened our minds? While sitting at a computer, if your mind goes blank, if you reach an impervious writer's block, all you have to do is click that little box in the upper right hand corner, minimize the window, and occupy your mind with something else entirely. The temptation to flit from idea to idea, task to task, Web page to Web page, is inevitable. And we wonder why our attention spans have shortened. We are constantly bombarded by 100 ideas, images and tasks at once, and that is only from a computer terminal.

When writing on a sheet of paper, in order to change tasks one has to put down the pen and paper, get up, walk around, and find something else to do. This method is just not as conducive to multi-tasking. But with a computer, the second that an instant message starts flashing at the bottom of your screen, whatever else you were doing becomes secondary. "Oh, I can just take one minute out to answer this instant message," you might say to yourself. Meanwhile, an hour goes by, the thought-pattern you once had has long since departed, and it will take another half-hour to prepare your mind for the paper-writing-mode once again.

Yet, especially at college, we love and live by our computers. We cannot get enough of them, and we cannot be away from them for too long. Life on campus practically centers around these objects. It is not uncommon to check e-mail once an hour. Nor is it uncommon to check everyone's away message on your Buddy List several times a day merely to pass the time. People don't call each other for quick conversations anymore-they IM. Sure IMs are great for a quick "let's go to dinner now" or for getting to know a new person, but for long, extended conversations, IMs are dry and removed. You cannot hear emotions. You cannot type as fast as you think. No one knows who said what first. And you always seem to be talking to at least three people at once. Once again, our personal attention to the individual and to detail has flown out the window. Just as we flit from task to task while composing a paper on the computer, we must flit from person to person while instant messaging.
Consequently, our conversations become shallower and less personal, with significantly more one-word-answers than if we were on the phone-a medium which demands the attention of both parties involved.

This is not to say that computers are bad, but just that they are omnipresent and have infiltrated our way of being and thinking. In our increasingly fast-paced world, primacy is placed on the ability to rapidly multitask. The idea that one person could mull over the construction of a sentence for an undistracted hour, in an attempt to make it perfect, is unheard of today. The ability to have a long conversation without interruption from call waiting, an IM, or various other distractions has been almost completely obliterated. Have we created computers which satisfy our every whim because they were meant to keep up with our ever-quickening world, or has the idea that we should move about from activity to activity, task to task, conversation to conversation, arisen from our constant need to stare at a computer screen? Maybe it's a combination of both.

Computers are wonderful, and the Internet is a God-send for anyone doing any type of research. But I will admit it, I am a computer victim myself. I am an away-message-checker during my bouts of boredom or writer's block. I check my e-mail innumerable times a day. But every once in a while I miss that feeling of holding a pen and paper in my hand. It reminds me of the days before I owned a computer, before I knew what the Internet was, the days when I thought that a typewriter was cool, when I thought that it was not possible to type something unless you had first written it by hand. Now, ironically, I cannot write anything without typing it first.