Humour

Being virtually anywhere

T A Balasubramanian on the realities of the virtual world.

Resuming another intriguing session with Bobo Jitter, the brave-hearted CIO of Bazooka Company, we come across the indefatigable Dr Don Jong, seated serenely once more on the counseling chair. Called ‘The Oddfather’ because of the unorthodox fixes that he conjures up, Dr Jong marches on brazenly through the murky streets of technology's frontiers.

“You seem to be a little bemused and distant today. So how has the week been, Bobo?” says Dr Jong, lighting his pipe with a flourish.

“You might say that it has been a sporting voyage of sorts, Doc. You know, we CIOs as a clan are cerebral creatures, by and large. We are hardly keen on physical exercise, welded as we are to our computer desktops. But it occasionally happens that we do get to move our limbs with a little more exertion than might be called for in the handling of a mouse or a keyboard.”

“So what have you been up to? Mountain-climbing?”

“Nothing that extreme, Doc. I recently had the chance to try several virtual reality systems, all in one corner of the crowded Techno Over-exposition of Geeks and Gizmos for Lazy Enterprises (TOGGLE), where the show ‘Being Virtually Anywhere’ took place. I was astounded to notice the way I reacted while I experienced ‘realities’ generated by some ten systems. One of the systems I tried out was designed to convey the idea of surrogate tourism. It left me with the most vivid impressions of what we can simulate in the name of reality these days, though it was very soberly titled: ‘Country Bike Ride with Force Feedback for Indoor Exercise.’”

“Umm. Pedal-pushing on a fixed seat with a stationary machine. I can well imagine that, Bobo.”

“It was actually a 10-speed bicycle with a resistant device attached to the rear wheel. As you ride around in a synthetic moving countryside, you can change direction by turning the handlebars. You see the displayed environment by wearing head-mounted stereo goggles and the pedaling resistance changes according to the type of terrain.”

“So what exactly did you experience?”

“Well, Doc, this turned out to be quite an amazing out-of-body experience. What I found compelling was not so much the technological wizardry, but my physical response. My whole body was engaged in the activity of riding this bike in this imaginary world, which meant that I was not only propelled by my vision but by the subtle coordination of my entire skeletal frame, muscles, nerves and all.”

“Mmm. In whichever world you do it, that is only to be expected when you ride a bicycle, Bobo.”

“Ah, of course. But I was, however, not able to disregard the fact that I had two tiny pixilated LCD screens so close to my face, literally pasted on my eyes. The result was a mixture of fascination—you know, about being immersed kinesthetically in cyberspace, so to speak—and acute discomfort, since my eyes never quite got used to the screens and my body felt suspended and groundless. The most significant part, however, was the fact that I kept up a non-stop conversation with the person who was in charge of the demo throughout my journey.”

“And why was that significant?”

“Just imagine, Doc. There I was pedaling through a fictional landscape, yet maintaining through language—a series of vocal noises, if you like—a tenuous link with the exterior reality. Talk was the only bridge between the two worlds, the only link that helped me preserve my balance and that kept me from getting completely knocked out from the experience. Babbling away helped me keep in perspective that there I was, in that room, seated on an actual bike but feeling as though I was in motion, listening to the sounds of the synthetic world and to this real person’s voice at the same time, but seeing only a digital landscape.”

“It is indeed fascinating. So you found it necessary to cling on to the reality you thought was familiar when you were being pulled into a reality you thought was strange—but not unfamiliar. The truth is—we are all image consumers, one way or the other, Bobo. Some images just happen to be comfortable, others take time to grow into.”

“I don’t know if I can get used to this virtual thing, Doc. It was so disorienting.”

“Oh, you can be sure that you will get over it—we humans can get used to anything, my boy. If you notice, everything now involves images in one way or another. We spend a lot of time—maybe even the largest part of life—in front of screens with images. Computer screens, television screens, mobile screens, and so on. We respond to all those synthetic images very physically and emotionally, too, like you did on the bike. As one wise observer says—images are reality.”

“True, Doc. It scares me. Will we stop interacting with the real world? Will we have no need for real scenery through which we can pedal real bikes?”

“Possibly. But then, there’s a downside to the real world, too, Bobo.”

“Huh? What downside?”

“Imagine you are all set to go out for a spin on your bike and the weather decides to play spoilsport—it starts to rain! Now, in your synthetic world, you do not have to consider rain arriving to undo your plans.”

“That’s right, Doc. The virtual world can be whatever I declare it to be. It does not become unpredictable.”

“There are many more reasons why the real world is a pest, my boy. But the most important way in which virtual worlds are a blessing has everything to do with something very dear to you.”“

And what is that, Doc?”

“Time, my boy. The shortest distance between two points is no longer a straight line, as it was in the age of the locomotive and the telegraph. With satellites and fiber optics, the shortest distance between two points is real time. As a result, you may say that speed is no longer expressed only in miles or kilometers per hour, but also in bauds or bytes per second. You get images of news happening halfway around the world instantly in your home—you experience the world in real time.”

“Well, I never thought of that.”

“More than ever, when in need to actually transport our bulky, lazy bodies through the environment, we have to express our dependency on the real world by taking time to prepare, to plan for contingencies, to act and then to recover from our strenuous exertions—which means we are forced to keep away from the wonder of experience by unnecessary delays.”

“Right you are, Doc. Who wants to waste time preparing for an experience when it can be zapped up instantly on a screen?”

“Exactly. I hear that the virtual skiing salons in some countries are becoming popular with those nature enthusiasts who are impatient with the delay in the change of seasons. They would much rather glide on synthetic snow in summer, and maybe all year round—without ever worrying about snowstorms.  Maybe the simulators of sport and stationary travels of the future will become as common as the electric lighting in our own offices and homes.”

“Looking back, Doc, I did find the entire experience of virtual biking quite exhilarating, though annoying at times.”

“Voila! And in any case, do we not get annoyed at times in the real world if it rains or does not snow?”