Dead – by clock, with pen, in cinema

Not an Agatha Christie novel – but death of the clock, the pen and the cinema.

Though which first?

If you’re over 35 or even a millennial, you’re may struggle with the romantic perception of their importance to society. Though we are hardly unbiased. As we age, our individual experiences, preferences and desires, however, are not always in line with ever evolving technology – nor humanity at large.

We face things becoming obsolete all the time. Back to Roman Numerals. Other than on the occasional building placard, what function do they have? Preserving historical importance, absolutely, but playing a daily role in our lives? Calligraphy is beautiful, but likely as essential as the penny-farthing bicycle.

Tick Tock Clocks

Ok, more specifically the analogue clock. Where nowadays do you see an analogue clock? Gone is the telecom service to allow you to calibrate your clock, we’re all calibrated by ‘the grid’. I have a clock on my kitchen wall, and if my children don’t have a digital device handy, they have to read it. There’s a brief pause as they ‘calculate’ the time, but at least they know. Then it occurred to me, while I push them to read it, where in daily life do you see such functional clocks? The tops of old train stations. I struggle to think of another. Yes, there is a $7bn watch industry, and of this a huge proportion are analogue watch faces, but Smartwatches now outsell these. If the Strawberry Generation already pauses when they look at such a timepiece, and see no practical application in society, where is the drive for them to learn this technology? Emulating their parents’ love of the clock or wristwatch, possibly. But why wear a device on your wrist for predominantly one function, when it has the ability to perform more digital functions than the average human requires in a single day; options that integrate with almost every other device they have.

Digitising the analogue watch face? Come on. My well-beyond-the-millennial-age friends are quick to show me perfect example of phasing out of the old, wearing digital timepieces that have an analogue style display, as they cling on to the romantic concept, while benefitting from the technological upgrade – a wrist computer. 

As such, there’s little incentive for our children to force their own to learn to use historical timepieces, let alone use them themselves.

Not as Mighty at the Digital Sword

From the ancient Egyptians even up to the Middle Ages in some places reed pens were used, until replaced by the quill – a more practical technology. Production of the ballpoint pen then made writing accessible across all levels of society. Though as important as it has been, the pen has almost had its day – just as the Gutenberg printing press has been almost surpassed by the Internet.

The concept of learning and memory retention through handwriting is absolutely true. But if none of our children’s children use a pen to learn in this manner, it’s an even playing field. I’m not saying that’s a good thing, just that society collectively shifts its use of technologies (albeit slowly). Abandoning the increasingly impractical technology of a hand-held, finite (ink), land-fill-bound, non-digital implement – that doesn’t sync with your other devices – is inevitable, despite my mother refusing to give up hers. 

Any generation beyond school age will invariably have noticed hand-cramps when writing for a consistent period of 15 minutes or more, unless part of their job. When is the last time you wrote (not jotted notes) for this duration or longer, and how many of those times did you have to stop and flex your hand muscles? National high school exams are already shifting to be digital; easier to collate, easier to read, easier to mark.

Previously, it was the pen or illiteracy. Though it’s now not uncommon to hear 11 year olds justify poor handwriting as “writing just isn’t my thing”. This reflects knowledge of options as there’s little requirement around a household for the pen. But it’s not the keyboard that’s the threat, as that will have the same historical significance as the CD, a blip in time, but the cognitive driven technology that’s around the corner. At least the pen has had a good run.

Cinemas

I want to believe that of these three, there is and will always be a community need for social gatherings at the cinema. I don’t want to believe in its obsolescence. I’m not sure why, it’s only been around since the end of the 19th Century, whereas the clock has been with us since the 12th Century, and the pen some 3,000 years before that so it’s hardly embedded in cultural history.

What really is the experience we look to sustain? The sound of the audience buzz as they mill around the foyer, waiting for friends, queuing for choc-top ice creams & round Jaffa lollies to roll down the wooden floors (well, they used to be). There’s the finding of one’s seat in the dim light, clamouring over legs of other patrons, either the large or inconsiderate. Settling into an allocated spot for a collaborative experience. It’s surely not when other patrons clamour over our legs to go to the lavatory during the most suspenseful point of the film, or the sticky floor we peel our shoes off as we navigate the discarded food packaging.

It is a community experience, not one of talking or exchange experiences, but to sit in the dark and watch a very large television, together. From the moment we got a taste for it, this very large television became a clunky but actual television in our homes. Alongside our drive for miniaturisation, we’ve added mobility, on-demand and ‘content’ that has no boundaries.

I’d like to think that what works in the favour of the cinema is that we still all interact. A digitally ensconced society of real-time gratification suggests otherwise. Yet I observe my 13 year-old daughter’s generation being on a call with friends while concurrently watching the same video, chatting, commenting, experiencing – differently. It’s still a community experience, akin to the small party we went with to the cinema. In fact, the only reason she has any interest in a cinema is the opportunity to head out of the house and meet boys, yet to be digitised.

And Then?

Don’t get me wrong, I too feel pangs of disappointment, search for alternate arguments and explore evidence to the contrary. Maybe I’m wrong, and nostalgically I hope so. Practically, I believe otherwise, as I think many of us do. If you’re opposed to these ideas, take a moment to ask a nine year old where they see the future in each of these.

On that note, it’s time to go; it’s VIII:XXX in the postmeridian, and I need to handwrite a note to let my family know (once they’ve reached home to see it) that I’m travelling to a cinema, for a fixed-timeslot movie.

Join me, and we can discuss this further – during the intermission.