I’ve mentioned before that Google is my most trusted, objective, nonjudgmental life coach/therapist/doctor/tax advisor. That might seem a little strange, but I grew up with Google. It’s been a faithful friend during my most inquisitive years, and it’s been a dependable confidante even when I’ve asked questions like, “Why is my period blood so dark?” “What does a ruptured appendix feel like?” and “What’s the name of that hot writer guy from Sex and the City who looks like that guy from Early Edition but isn’t him?” But growing up with the Internet and living in the age of social media robs us of our chill. As people trying to live in this rapidly diversifying technological landscape, we still get a thrill out of curiosity now and then. At some point or another, you – like me – have probably indulged in the suspense and intrigue of not Googling something.
Do you remember when you actually had to use books to find information? Back in the day, if you wanted to learn how to get rid of a blackhead, you had to go through the trouble of going to the library (presumably with all your blackheads), looking through the card catalog for a book on blackhead removal, enduring the librarian looking at you nose like, “Ew, yeah, you really need this book,” while you check it out, and then reading a book about removing blackheads that may not have good images or answer any questions you have. I didn’t have to do that very much of my life, but I imagine it was hell. I suspect there were fewer murders and more undiagnosed STDs in those days.
In the world BG — Before Google — you had to talk to other human beings to learn about things that might be uncomfortably revelatory. Or use your Microsoft Encarta CD-ROM. I don’t want my friends to know how many synonyms I need on a daily basis. I don’t want to double-check a Kanye lyric through a coworker. I definitely don’t want to ask my mom about how boob contouring works. Google is a lifesaver, because even though we can be reasonably sure the government has our most problematic searches on file, at least those are strangers we don’t have to see on a daily basis. I’d rather some government employee be aware I Google murderers and plane crashes and celebrity sex tapes (just out of curiosity!) than say, my boss or my barista.
But sometimes Google can suck the mystery out of life, because all the info you could ever want is within reach as long as you string together the right search terms. I mean, Google can’t teach you to how not to be an asshole or expose the truth about unsolved crimes (Google knows I’ve tried looking for new leads on JonBenet Ramsey more than I care to admit), but it can totally find the Facebook profile of this awesome new person you just started dating. Google can spoil a TV show you’ve been impatiently waiting to watch on Netflix with your partner. In a lot of ways, Google removes the thrill of finding things out the old fashioned way that often entails asking questions and enduring embarrassment and surprise. Now we’re all just in our basements and on our iPhones learning all kinds of shit with reckless abandon.
I’ve started Conscious Ungoogling. It’s nothing like Gwyneth Paltrow and Chris Martin, so you don’t have to hate it just yet. Conscious ungoogling is when you come across a question – anything you don’t know – and choose to not Google because A) It’s not essential for you to know it right now and B) It’s kind of exciting to revel in your ignorance and make up your own explanation. Part B is what’s really missing in our society today, if you ask me. We have access to so much information that for so many topics, you can find out if you’re right and wrong with just a few clicks. It’s great if you’re trying to win an argument, but it’s a lot less cool if you’re spoilering your own learning process. Back in the day, if you were wrong about something it could take years of wrongdoing and deaths for you to find out. Here’s lookin’ at you, homebuilders using asbestos.
The other day I was walking to the train when a weird, unprovoked thought came into my mind as these things do when you least expect them. I realized that I have no idea how newborn babies get their Social Security number and Social Security card. “Katie, that’s a really unsexy thought to have, why didn’t you ask yourself instead how birds have sex?” Well, yes, I wonder about that sometimes, too, but on this particular day it was babies and their national identification for tax purposes. I assume the hospital gives it to you — along with the kid’s birth certificate and a pamphlet on breastfeeding – as part of the new human being starter pack or something, but I have no idea if that’s true. What if you have to apply for one with the government? Are all the people who have procreated really diligent enough to know to do that? Do people have undocumented children because they didn’t know they have to do that? I DON’T KNOW!
I could Google this. I’m 100% sure the answer to this is on the Internet. There’s probably a forum out there where expectant mothers are griping right now about wanting to get their baby’s Social Security number the “natural way.” I opened Google ready to type, “How do babies get Social Security numbers?” but I stopped when my finger was hovering over the “h” key. Someday I’ll need to find this out if I have a baby or sign up to be a contestant on Wheel of Boring, Procedural Information, but right now I don’t need to know. By not Googling, I can still wonder if maybe every one who’s had a baby had to murder someone, because freeing up a Social Security number is the only way to get one for your baby.
What I’m trying to say is, sometimes it’s satisfying to abstain from Google and arrive at your own (likely incorrect) conclusions, so long as you don’t post them on Facebook like everyone else does. So the next time you can’t think of that actor’s name, you’re unsure of a lyric, or you think have a life-threatening disease, take a chance and just go with the flow! Make it up as you go along! Consciously ungoogling is surprisingly fun. Plus, you’ll be lightening the workload for the NSA.
Do NOT spoil how babies get their Social Security numbers. I’m kind of enjoying thinking about parents profiling who they’re going to kill so their baby can be a legitimate, identified citizen. What questions/topics have you left ungoogled? I want to this be an open, Google-free comment section.
Images: pinkydinkyme/Tumblr; Giphy
