Last week my oldest daughter accidentally dropped her iPod on our (fairly long) driveway, and, not seeing it there, I drove over it. Twice. Needless to say, the poor thing didn't survive the experience. She burst into tears when I broke the news to her of the demise of poor Rufus (the iPod's name). Not only had she named it, but it has travelled with her several times to BC and back, and has been her constant companion for the last two years, since it was given to her as a birthday present.

She immediately began negotiations for a replacement, and when I implied that perhaps there were other expenses that have higher priority, she burst out "But it's absolutely necessary for my sanity !" It wasn't just an iPod that was lost, that day, but a piece of her.

I have three daughters, in all, and I've been amazed, watching them grow up, how they have accepted and integrated technology into their lives as easily as breathing. They watch videos on YouTube, they talk with their friends on Facebook, play games, draw, write. My oldest routinely sends and recieves some 2500 texts on her phone each month (Thank goodness for flat-rate unlimited text plans...). I might send and recieve five or six texts per month, and at least half of those will be with my daughter.

My oldest daughter also told me about how, in an independent-learning class at her high school, she (and the vast majority of her classmates) instead of spending several periods watching (in her opinion) excruciatingly boring video lectures that were supposed to give them the information they needed to answer a series of questions, she skipped the videos, found the answers on Google, and continued on to the next set of activities a week early.

This has me thinking. Technology has continued to advance and invade our lives, so that technology is now shaping us as much as we are shaping it. So far, as much as even people in my own generation have taken to continually carrying around with us our Blackberries and iPhones and laptops, we're still squeemish about the idea of physically integrated technologies - making ourselves metahumans, or literal rather than figurative cyborgs. I consider myself a relatively tech-saavy gen Xer, yet my children are demonstratively more comfortable with it than I am. If I'm not comfortable with integrating technology into my body, will they be?

If you're a fan of science fiction (as I am), you know that in the vast majority of science fiction movies and television series, (for example, Star Trek, Star Wars, Farscape, Babylon 5, even Doctor Who) humans are depicted as using more and more advanced technology, but for the most part, are using it externally from themselves, or only using superficial integration, such as LaForge's visor on Star Trek, which allows him to see - a functional equivalent to current cochlear implant technology. Star Trek also provides us with the most obvious depiction of the evils of integrating humans and technology - the Borg, who are a souless, implacably evil collective, intent on absorbing humanity, and thus robbing us of what makes us human. Yes, it's more than a little heavy-handed in the fear of the post-human, but illuminating. Another theme that crops up from time to time in science fiction, is that of children wwho are so changed, their parents become afraid of them, and violent towards them. Some of John Wyndam's stories come to mind...

So where is the technology of connection going, long term? It's already become a standard part of our person to carry some electronics. After a certain point, it just can't get any smaller, but there are definitely social barriers to physical integration of technology. But is it just comfort level, or something more profound?