A Technological Perspective: The Internet is for Cornhole

Trekkie Monster, a puppet from the Broadway musical Avenue Q, informed me that "the internet is for porn," but after this weekend, I'm not so sure about that. I think the internet might be for corn-hole. And I know what you're thinking, but I am referring to the corn-hole where you toss a bean bag at a target, you disgusting pervert.

Let me explain. Cultural critic Neil Postman warned us that technology is not neutral . . . he warned us that every invention, every scientific development, every thing labeled "progress," needs to be evaluated on a case by case basis before it is adopted. This rarely happens. I don't think there was much debate about whether or not to adopt the automobile. It pooped less than a horse and went faster without needing a fill-up. And a 1914 outbreak of foot and mouth disease cemented the deal . . . towns removed their roadside water troughs to prevent the disease from spreading, so you couldn't fill up your horse or your Stanley Steamer. Gasoline it is! No one predicted the BP oil spill would result, nor did they predict the consequences the resulting sprawl would have on the American family. We live farther apart than ever, commute more, and often eat in our car. It makes me wish I had a cup holder.

I have tried to follow Postman's advice. I am certainly a late adopter. In fact, I just got my first cell phone a few months ago. I didn't even buy it, my wife brought it home for me. She handed me the cute little white and lime green phone she had picked out for me, and then (ironically) said to me, "You're a grown man with two kids. You need a phone." My students told me that my phone is not the phone of a grown man, it is the phone of a 12 year old Asian girl. But I realize the benefits of the phone outweigh the negatives. I especially love texting. It's great for sending a discrete (or discreet!) bit of information to someone, it's great for making a joke, an it is perfect for the times you need to communicate but don't need to have a full blown civil conversation. I don't like always being in touch, or the fact that the phone can be a crutch: you don't need to know your way around as well, you can just call when you are close. You don't need to make definite plans, they can be revised on the fly. And you don't need to pay attention when your wife is telling you what to get at the grocery store . . . you can call her when you get there.

But most people don't evaluate new technology for very long before they adopt it. Facebook, iPods, iPads, GPS navigators, Google, IMDB, YouTube, blogs. We occupy our time very differently than we did ten years ago and no one knows what the results of this massive experiment will be. Nicholas Carr believes that these technologies are essentially wrecking our ability for deep cognitive thought. But maybe he is wrong. Christopher Chabris and Daniel Simons think so. In their Los Angeles Times article Digital Alarmists Are Wrong, they attempt to refute the "digital technology is making us scatter-brained" theory with an example about chess. Review this excerpt, and then I'll explain what it has to do with corn-hole. The beanbag toss game, you filthy sleazeball.

Before the Computer Age, chess grandmasters used to study chess books before matches. But now they use laptops to review hundreds of games in rapid succession, in effect "downloading" into their minds knowledge that is customized for their next opponent. They access the knowledge as they need it, discarding it after the match, and the result is that today's grandmasters play the game better than their predecessors did. Visual perception and attention work the same way: They grant us conscious but temporary access to the information in our world that we need at any moment, then quickly discard it as we shift attention to other places, objects or events.

If we consider all the implications of this "just in time" approach to acquiring and using information, we may be forced to reevaluate the nature of knowledge, wisdom and intelligence. It may make less sense to focus on the capabilities of an individual person, and more sense to think about the individual plus the cloud of technology and information that he or she has access to at any given moment. This human-computer-Internet collective is more knowledgeable and arguably more intelligent than a single human being could be alone. By this view, as more and more information becomes available on the Internet, we become not dumber but smarter.

So, we are not just ourselves. We are ourselves plus the cloud of technology with which we choose to surround ourselves. And our speed and skill in using this cloud is part of our intelligence. In essence, we are all cyborgs. Especially Jerry and Chris. Who are Jerry and Chris? When do they plan on taking over our planet? Soon. Let me explain with a recent anecdote.

This year, at the 17th Annual Outer Banks Fishing Trip, the sea was full of jellyfish. So we turned to drinking and corn-hole. The bean bag toss game, you lascivious fantasist (and we weren't THAT bored). There was much debate and experimentation on how to toss the bean bags. You needed to be accurate, but you also needed to make the beanbag stick on the wood target. Many methods were tried, and many methods had relative success. Eventually, though, Bill and Igor starting racking up consecutive victories. They were a dynasty. The extra practice they were getting made them more and more difficult to beat. So Jerry and Chris, after a 21-3 drubbing, went inside and used a phone to watch a YouTube video on how to toss a corn-hole beanbag. Apparently, there is a method. They adopted the method, and minutes later, beat Team Dynasty 21-3. They were dubbed Team Google. They had used the cloud to their advantage.


Now here is the important part. Now "the method" was free for the taking. It wasn't something physical, it was simply a style of tossing. And it worked. Not only did it raise our level of corn-hole play far beyond what could have been anticipated, but it also sparked debate. If you adopted "the method," some thought you were selling out. They claimed to be "old school," despite the irony that "old school" was from approximately forty-five minutes previous. Some players desperately clung to their old ways, while others experimented with the new "method" with reckless abandon. And, an interesting side-effect which may have been the result of Google or may have been the result of certain performance de-hancing substances, but most people became less concerned with winning and more concerned with technique. And the discussion of technique. And physics. And The Book of Mormon. In my mind, this is a good thing. We elevated ourselves. We were no longer a bunch of drunks tossing beanbags. We were a bunch of drunks using a "the method" to toss beanbags. And that makes all the difference.