"To find real solitude, you have to go out of range. But every year that’s harder to do."
"I was headed toward Green Bank, a town that adheres to the strictest ban on technology in the United States. The residents do without not only cellphones but also Wi-Fi, microwave ovens and any other devices that generate electromagnetic signals."
"This town, in other words, calls out to many kinds of eccentrics. And I guess I am one of them.
I came in hopes of finding a certain kind of wildness and solitude. I live in Massachusetts, and I often disappear into the forests and rivers to clear my head. I’ve always loved the moment when the bars on my phone disappear. When I’m out of range entirely, floating along in a kayak, time grows elastic. I stare down into that other kingdom below me, at the minnows darting through the duckweed, and feel deeply free — no one’s watching; no one knows where I am."
"In theory, I could achieve this kind of freedom anywhere by shutting off my cellphone and observing an “internet sabbath.” But that has never worked for me — and I suspect it doesn’t for most other people either. Turn off your phone and you can almost hear it wheedling to be turned on again. To experience the deepest solitude, you need to enter the land where the internet ends."
"Ten years ago, it was easy to do that. But lately, even in the backwoods, my cellphone springs to life, clamoring for attention."
"The off-grid places are disappearing."
"Activists have already created “dark sky reserves” to protect wilderness from artificial light.
In the future, might we also create “privacy reserves” where we can go to escape the ubiquitous internet ?"
"How can we protect resources like starlight, quiet and obscurity that have little value in the marketplace ?"
Extraits du très beau "The land where the internet ends" publié dans le NYT il y a quelques jours, sur le désir réel ou supposé de déconnexion.
C’est à mettre dans le prolongement de nos récents :
C’est à mettre dans le prolongement de nos récents :
