[b][i]A Winnipegger’s Death Goes Unnoticed for Two Years[/b]
ONE NOVEMBER DAY in 2002, Jim Sulkers, a 53-year-old
retired municipal worker from Winnipeg, climbed into
bed, pulled the covers up, and died. Over the next
20-odd months, the U.S. invaded Iraq, Janet Jackson
exposed herself at the Super Bowl, and Canadians – with
some reluctance – elected Paul Martin. But, tragically,
it wasn’t until Aug. 25, 2004, toward the end of the
Athens Summer Olympics, that somebody finally thought to
look in on Jim Sulkers.
By the time police – alerted, finally, by concerned
relatives – climbed through the window of his
second-storey condo in the posh River Heights
neighbourhood, Sulkers’ body was in a mummified state.
Everything else in his tidy one-bedroom apartment was
intact, although the food in his fridge was spoiled and
his wall calendar was two years out of date.
After a brief investigation in which Manitoba’s chief
medical examiner determined he’d died of natural causes,
the bizarre confluence of coincidences that led to his
delayed discovery began to emerge (and landed Sulkers’
story on “wacky news of the world” websites from Houston
to Cape Town). For one thing, he was a reclusive man. He
was estranged from his family and had minimal contact
with neighbours, most of whom assumed he’d taken an
extended vacation. Also, he suffered from a medical
condition that prevented his body from decomposing – and
therefore expelling any telltale odours.
But the primary factor in the delay, it turns out, was
technology – or more specifically, automated banking.
Sulkers suffered from multiple sclerosis and received a
monthly disability pension, which was deposited directly
into his bank account. His condo fees, utilities and
other expenses were then deducted automatically. As
such, his bills were routinely being paid up well beyond
his death. Why wouldn’t his creditors assume he was
alive?
Sad as it is, Sulkers’ tale illuminates a chilling fact:
that new technologies like electronic banking have
created a system in which it’s possible to become so
physically disengaged from the day-to-day administration
of your own affairs that your life can effectively go on
without you, perhaps indefinitely. “For many practical
purposes, this man was virtually alive throughout that
time,” says Terence Moran, professor of Media Ecology at
New York University, a program he co-founded with Neil
Postman, the celebrated media critic, in 1971. Marshall
MCLUHAN famously said that media are extensions of
ourselves, Moran points out. “This man’s life was
extended for two years by the TECHNOLOGY he used.
Postman would’ve said that what you have here is a lack
of community.”
What you also have is Exhibit A for techno-skeptics –
the artists, intellectuals and other prophets of despair
(most notably McLuhan, U.S. cultural historian Lewis
Mumford and French philosopher Jacques Ellul) who’ve
long warned that too much reliance on technology will
result in a whittling away of human virtues and freedoms
in ways we can’t begin to understand. The dark,
inevitable and unforeseeable consequences of technology
were an inspiration for Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, as
well as Blade Runner and the Matrix trilogy. This is
what Postman called technology’s Faustian bargain. “It
is a mistake to suppose that any technological
innovation has a one-sided effect,” he wrote. “Every
technology is both a burden and a blessing; not
either-or, but this-and-that.”
Often, says Moran, the most significant consequences of
technological innovation are the ones we could have
least predicted. When the automobile was first invented,
people had concerns, but primarily about safety. “Nobody
predicted it would lead to air pollution, smog and the
suburbanization of America,” he says. Likewise with the
Internet, concerns have primarily centred around access
and privacy. But the actual societal implications of
chat rooms, instant messaging, and online dating may not
emerge for decades to come.
In academia, a war has been raging over the true
emotional, social and psychological impact of the
Internet and the automated services it affords us. Sure,
critics say, new media help us overcome boundaries of
time and space. They foster communication, productivity
and access to information – but often at the cost of
face-to-face interaction with family, friends,
neighbours and shopkeepers. By its very nature, they
argue, the new technology destroys communities.
Professors Robert Kraut of Carnegie Mellon University
and Norman Nie of Stanford were two of the first to
examine the societal impact of new technologies. In
separate studies, they each concluded that frequent
Internet use leads to a decline in social support,
family communication and the size of one’s social
network, and an increase in depression and loneliness.
“The Internet,” said Nie, “could be the ultimate
isolating technology that further reduces our
participation in communities even more than did
automobiles and television before it.” In other words,
electronic media have created a new definition of what
it means to be connected – one which, paradoxically,
means more people “home, alone and anonymous,” he said.
Consider that your average young person spends 6 ? hours
a day in front of a screen of one stripe or another,
whether it be playing video games, surfing the Web,
downloading music onto an iPod or text messaging with a
BlackBerry. In a recent study, 20 per cent of teenagers
said they use instant messaging as their primary mode of
communication with friends.
A techno-skeptic will tell you that virtual
communication is a poor substitute for meaningful,
face-to-face interaction. “It’s only the illusion of
interacting,” says Moran. “To illustrate this point,
Postman used to say, ‘Try eating some virtual food or
breathing some virtual air.’ ”
It’s no secret we’ve come to rely on technology to help
alleviate a litany of latter-day ills: boredom,
loneliness, laziness, lack of time and isolation. (There
are new wired devices that help adults monitor their
elderly parents from afar. If they alter their daily
activities in any suspicious way, this information will
be transmitted electronically. Useful, but not quite the
same as dropping by.)
Of course, it’s a little premature to argue that new
technology is transforming people into apathetic
techno-misfits. For the time being, its benefits clearly
outweigh its drawbacks. In fact, Keith Hampton, a
Canadian professor at the Massachusetts Institute of
Technology, recently created local chat lines and found
that they actually made residents more likely to meet
their neighbours in person. “My work suggests you can
use new technologies to encourage new social ties and
strengthen local relationships,” he says. (Hampton makes
another good point: was interaction with the bank teller
really that meaningful?)
The downside is undeniable, however, as evidenced by Jim
Sulkers’ lonely demise. In his immediate community, his
death has had direct consequences for his neighbours,
many of whom are elderly or disabled and horrified by
the idea that someone could be so completely forgotten.
Gladys Lowry, who lives alone in the apartment two doors
down from where Sulkers died, now feels compelled to
make more direct human contact. “I know this could never
really happen to me,” she says, “but my neighbour and I
have decided to phone each other every other day – just
in case.”[/i]
Maclean’s September 20, 2004
Author LIANNE GEORGE
The Canadian Encyclopedia ? 2006 Historica Foundation of Canada
[b]A bit of a sad commentary on the times; isn’t it?[/b]
[b]Dawg[/b] ]:)