Do you ever wonder why we're surrounded with things that help us do everything faster and faster and faster? Communicate faster, but also work faster, bank faster, travel faster, find a date faster, cook faster, clean faster and do all of it all at the same time? How do you feel about cramming even more into every waking hour?
Da li se ikada pitate, zašto smo okruženi stvarima koje pomažu da uradimo sve brže, brže i brže? Da brže komuniciramo, ali i brže radimo, brže obavljamo poslove u banci brže putujemo, brže upoznamo nekoga, brže kuvamo, čistimo i sve to uradimo u isto vreme? Šta mislite o tome da ugurate još više obaveza u svaku budnu minutu?
Well, to my generation of Americans, speed feels like a birthright. Sometimes I think our minimum speed is Mach 3. Anything less, and we fear losing our competitive edge. But even my generation is starting to question whether we're the masters of speed or if speed is mastering us.
Znate, za moju generaciju Amerikanaca brzina se čini rođenjem dato pravo. Ponekad mislim da je naša minimalna brzina mah 3. Išta manje od toga, i strahujemo da izgubimo našu takmičarsku oštrinu. Ali čak i moja generacija počela je da se pita da li smo mi gospodari brzine Ili brzina gospodari nama.
I'm an anthropologist at the Rand Corporation, and while many anthropologists study ancient cultures, I focus on modern day cultures and how we're adapting to all of this change happening in the world. Recently, I teamed up with an engineer, Seifu Chonde, to study speed. We were interested both in how people are adapting to this age of acceleration and its security and policy implications. What could our world look like in 25 years if the current pace of change keeps accelerating? What would it mean for transportation, or learning, communication, manufacturing, weaponry or even natural selection? Will a faster future make us more secure and productive? Or will it make us more vulnerable?
Ja sam antropolog u Rand korporaciji i dok mnogi antropolozi proučavaju antičke kulture, ja se fokusiram na moderne kulture i kako se prilagođavamo svim promenama koje se dešavaju u svetu. Nedavno, počela sam da proučavam brzinu sa inžinjerom Sejfuom Čondeom. Interesovalo nas je kako se ljudi prilagođavaju ovom dobu ubrzanja, njegovim bezbednosnim i strateškim implikacijama. Kako bi mogao naš svet da izgleda za 25 godina ako se trenutni tempo promene nastavlja ubrzavati? Šta bi to značilo za prevoz, ili učenje, komunikaciju, proizvodnju, naoružanje Ili čak prirodnu selekciju? Da li će nas brža budućnost učiniti bezbednijim i produktivnijim? Ili će nas učiniti ranjivijim?
In our research, people accepted acceleration as inevitable, both the thrills and the lack of control. They fear that if they were to slow down, they might run the risk of becoming obsolete. They say they'd rather burn out than rust out. Yet at the same time, they worry that speed could erode their cultural traditions and their sense of home. But even people who are winning at the speed game admit to feeling a little uneasy. They see acceleration as widening the gap between the haves, the jet-setters who are buzzing around, and the have-nots, who are left in the digital dust.
U našem istraživanju, ljudi su ubrzanje prihvatili kao neizbežno i uzbuđenja, kao i manjak kontrole. Ako uspore, boje se da bi rizikovali da postanu beskorisni. Oni kažu da im je draže da izgore, nego da zarđaju. Ali istovremeno, brinu se da bi brzina mogla da uruši njihove kulturne tradicije i njihov osećaj doma. Čak i ljudi koji pobeđuju u igri brzine priznaju da im nije lagodno. Vide ubrzanje kao proširenje razdvojenosti između onih koji imaju, džet-setera koji zuje unaokolo, i onih koji nemaju, koji su ostavljeni u digitalnoj prašini.
Yes, we have good reason to forecast that the future will be faster, but what I've come to realize is that speed is paradoxical, and like all good paradoxes, it teaches us about the human experience, as absurd and complex as it is.
Da, mi imamo dobre razloge da predvidimo da će budućnost biti brža, ali ono što sam ja shvatila jeste da je brzina paradoksalna, i kao svi dobri paradoksi uči nas o ljudskom doživljaju, apsurdnom i kompleksnom kakav i jeste.
The first paradox is that we love speed, and we're thrilled by its intensity. But our prehistoric brains aren't really built for it, so we invent roller coasters and race cars and supersonic planes, but we get whiplash, carsick, jet-lagged. We didn't evolve to multitask. Rather, we evolved to do one thing with incredible focus, like hunt -- not necessarily with great speed but with endurance for great distance. But now there's a widening gap between our biology and our lifestyles, a mismatch between what our bodies are built for and what we're making them do. It's a phenomenon my mentors have called "Stone Agers in the fast lane."
Prvi paradoks je da volimo brzinu, i oduševljeni smo njenim intenzitetom. Ali naši praistorijski mozgovi nisu baš za to opremljeni, zato izmišljamo rolerkostere, trkačke automobile i supersonične avione, ali doživljavamo ušinutost vrata, mučninu od vožnje, umor od leta. Nismo se razvili da radimo više stvari odjednom. Naprotiv, razvilii smo se da radimo jednu stvar sa neverovatnim fokusom, kao lov - ne nužno sa puno brzine ali sa izdržljivošću na velike razdaljine. Ali sada postoji sve veći jaz između naše biologije i životnih stilova, neslaganje između toga za šta su naša tela izgrađena i šta ih teramo da rade. To je fenomen koji su moji mentori nazvali "Kameno dobci u brzoj traci".
(Laughter)
(Smeh)
A second paradox of speed is that it can be measured objectively. Right? Miles per hour, gigabytes per second. But how speed feels, and whether we like it, is highly subjective. So we can document that the pace at which we are adopting new technologies is increasing. For example, it took 85 years from the introduction of the telephone to when the majority of Americans had phones at home. In contrast, it only took 13 years for most of us to have smartphones. And how people act and react to speed varies by culture and among different people within the same culture. Interactions that could be seen as pleasantly brisk and convenient in some cultures could be seen as horribly rude in others. I mean, you wouldn't go asking for a to-go cup at a Japanese tea ceremony so you could jet off to your next tourist stop. Would you?
Drugi paradoks brzine je da može biti objektivno izmerena. Zar ne? Kilometri po satu, gigabajti po sekundi. Ali kako se brzina pojmi, i da li nam se dopada, je vrlo subjektivno. Tako da možemo zabeležiti da se ritam po kojem usvajamo nove tehnologije ubrzava. Na primer, bilo je potrebno 85 godina od pojave telefona do trenutka kada je većina Amerikanaca imala telefon u kući. Nasupro tome, samo 13 godina je bilo potrebno da bi većina nas imala pametne telefone. A kako se ljudi ponašaju i reaguju na brzinu varira od kulture i između različitih ljudi unutar iste kulture. Interakcije koje se mogu posmatrati kao prijatno hitrim i pogodnim u nekim kulturama mogle bi se smatrati uvredljivim u drugim. Mislim, ne biste tražili čašu za poneti na japanskoj čajnoj ceremoniji da biste brzo stigli do narednog turističkog odredišta. Da li biste?
A third paradox is that speed begets speed. The faster I respond, the more responses I get, the faster I have to respond again. Having more communication and information at our fingertips at any given moment was supposed to make decision-making easier and more rational. But that doesn't really seem to be happening.
Treći paradoks je da brzina stvara brzinu. Što brže odgovorim, više ću odgovora dobiti, brže ću opet morati da odgovorim. Imati više komunikacije i informacija na dohvat ruke u bilo kom trenutku je trebalo da učini donošenje odluka lakšim i racionalnijim. Ali izgleda da se to u stvari ne dešava.
Here's just one more paradox: If all of these faster technologies were supposed to free us from drudgery, why do we all feel so pressed for time? Why are we crashing our cars in record numbers, because we think we have to answer that text right away? Shouldn't life in the fast lane feel a little more fun and a little less anxious? German speakers even have a word for this: "Eilkrankheit." In English, that's "hurry sickness." When we have to make fast decisions, autopilot brain kicks in, and we rely on our learned behaviors, our reflexes, our cognitive biases, to help us perceive and respond quickly. Sometimes that saves our lives, right? Fight or flight. But sometimes, it leads us astray in the long run.
Evo još jednog paradoksa: ako je trebalo da nas sve ove brze tehnologije oslobe napora posla, zašto se svi osećamo pod pritiskom vremena? Zašto uništavamo naše automobile u rekordnom broju, zato što mislimo da moramo odmah odgovoriti na tu poruku? Zar ne bi život u brzoj traci trebao biti malo zabavniji i malo manje anksiozan? Oni koji govore nemački imaju i reč za to: "Eilkrankheit." Na engleskom je to "bolest žurbe". Kada moramo da donesemo brze odluke, pokreće se automatski mozak, i mi se oslanjamo na naša usvojena ponašanja naše reflekse, naše kognitivne pristrasnosti da nam pomognu da shvatimo i odreagujemo brzo. Ponekad nam to spašava život, zar ne? Borba ili bekstvo. Ali ponekad nas skrene sa pravog puta na duže staze.
Oftentimes, when our society has major failures, they're not technological failures. They're failures that happen when we made decisions too quickly on autopilot. We didn't do the creative or critical thinking required to connect the dots or weed out false information or make sense of complexity. That kind of thinking can't be done fast. That's slow thinking. Two psychologists, Daniel Kahneman and Amos Tversky, started pointing this out back in 1974, and we're still struggling to do something with their insights.
Često, kada naše društvo prolazi kroz ogromne neuspehe, to nisu tehnološki neuspesi. To su neuspesi koji se dese kada donosimo užurbane odluke na autopilotu. Nismo razmislili kreativno ili kritički da bismo povezali tačke ili iskorenili pogrešnu informaciju ili razjasnili kompleksnosti. Takvo razmišljanje ne može biti urađeno brzo. To je sporo razmišljanje. Dva psihologa, Danijel Kaneman i Amos Tverski su ovo naglasili još 1974, i mi se dalje borimo da uradimo nešto sa njihovim saznanjima.
All of modern history can be thought of as one spurt of acceleration after another. It's as if we think if we just speed up enough, we can outrun our problems. But we never do. We know this in our own lives, and policymakers know it, too. So now we're turning to artificial intelligence to help us make faster and smarter decisions to process this ever-expanding universe of data. But machines crunching data are no substitute for critical and sustained thinking by humans, whose Stone Age brains need a little time to let their impulses subside, to slow the mind and let the thoughts flow.
Cela moderna istorija može se smatrati jednim izlivom ubrzanosti za drugim. To je kao da smatramo, ako dovoljno ubrzamo, možemo pobeći od naših problema. Ali mi to nikada ne postignemo. Mi to znamo u našim životima i donosioci zakona znaju to isto. Zato se sada okrećemo ka veštačkoj inteligenciji da nam pomogne da donesemo brže i pametnije odluke da shvatimo taj sve širi univerzum podataka. Ali mašine koje drobe podatke nisu zamena za kritičko i održivo razmišljanje koje vrše ljudi, čijim je mozgovima iz kamenog doba potrebno malo više vremena da im impulsi splasnu, da se uspori um i da se dopusti da teku misli.
If you're starting to think that we should just hit the brakes, that won't always be the right solution. We all know that a train that's going too fast around a bend can derail, but Seifu, the engineer, taught me that a train that's going too slowly around a bend can also derail.
Ako počinjete da mislite da samo treba da povučemo kočnice, to neće uvek biti pravo rešenje. Mi znamo da voz, koji previše brzo ide kroz krivinu može iskliznuti iz šina, ali Sejfu, inžinjer naučio me je da voz koji ide presporo kroz krivinu može isto iskliznuti iz šina.
So managing this spurt of acceleration starts with the understanding that we have more control over speed than we think we do, individually and as a society. Sometimes, we'll need to engineer ourselves to go faster. We'll want to solve gridlock, speed up disaster relief for hurricane victims or use 3-D printing to produce what we need on the spot, just when we need it. Sometimes, though, we'll want to make our surroundings feel slower to engineer the crash out of the speedy experience. And it's OK not to be stimulated all the time. It's good for adults and for kids. Maybe it's boring, but it gives us time to reflect. Slow time is not wasted time.
Tako da upravljanje ovim izlivom ubrzanja počinje sa razumevanjem da mi imamo više kontrole nad brzinom nego što mislimo da imamo, individualno i kao društvo. Ponekad ćemo morati sebe da ustrojimo da idemo brže. Mi ćemo hteti da rešimo zastoje, ubrzamo oporavak od katastrofe za žrtve uragana ili da koristimo 3D štampanje da odmah proizvedemo šta nam treba, baš kada nam treba. Ponekad, međutim, želećemo da učinimo našu okolinu sporijom da stvorimo izlaz iz tog iskustva ubrzanosti. I okej je da ne budemo stimulusani sve vreme. Dobro je za odrasle i za decu. Možda je dosadno, ali daje nam vremena da razmislimo. Sporo vreme nije protraćeno vreme.
And we need to reconsider what it means to save time. Culture and rituals around the world build in slowness, because slowness helps us reinforce our shared values and connect. And connection is a critical part of being human. We need to master speed, and that means thinking carefully about the trade-offs of any given technology. Will it help you reclaim time that you can use to express your humanity? Will it give you hurry sickness? Will it give other people hurry sickness? If you're lucky enough to decide the pace that you want to travel through life, it's a privilege. Use it. You might decide that you need both to speed up and to create slow time: time to reflect, to percolate at your own pace; time to listen, to empathize, to rest your mind, to linger at the dinner table.
I moramo da ponovo promislimo šta znači uštedeti vreme. Kultura i rituali oko sveta se grade u usporenosti, jer nam usporenost pomaže da ojačamo naše zajedničke vrednosti i povežemo se. A povezanost je kritičan deo ljudskosti. Moramo da ovladamo brzinom, i to znači da pažljivo razmislimo o ustupcima od bilo koje tehnologije. Da li će vam pomoći da vratite vreme koje možete koristiti da izrazite ljudskost? Da li će vam izazvati bolest žurbe? Da li će drugim izazvati bolest žurbe? Ako ste dovoljno te sreće da odlučite tempo kojim želite da putujete kroz život, to je privilegija. Iskoristite je. Možda odlučite da morate da ujedno ubrzate i da stvorite sporo vreme: vreme za razmišljanje, da se pročistite u vašem tempu; vreme da slušate, da saosećate, da odmorite um, da otežete za stolom za večeru.
So as we zoom into the future, let's consider setting the technologies of speed, the purpose of speed and our expectations of speed to a more human pace.
Dakle kako ulazimo u budućnost, uzmimo u obzir postavljanje tehnologije brzine, svrhu brzine i naša očekivanja od brzine na ljudskiji tempo.
Thank you.
Hvala vam.
(Applause)
(Aplauz)