We are living in exponential times. Consider these tidbits of information which I just captured from the 2008 Did You Know YouTube entry, composed by Karl Fisch, Scot McLeod and Jeff Bronman:

• There are 31 billion searches registered on Google every month, up from a measly 2.7 billion in 2006.
• The number of text messages sent and received every day exceeds the total population of the planet.
• The total amount of information in one week of the New York Times exceeds the totality of information an average person would come across in his lifetime in the 18th century.
• 4 exabytes of unique information will be generated this year. Although you might not know what an exabyte is, consider that this amount is more than all of the information generated in the past 5,000 years in total.

So, how are we to manage in this avalanche of information? Trying to stay apace is like trying to out swim a tidal wave. There are tools, of course, like Google Reader and other aggregators that automate the process by reaching out to information sources,organizing and consolidating the information. They are helpful, but if you plan to use one be prepared for a steep learning curve as you figure out the mix and match configuration of these different platforms, tools and devices.

Then there is always the head in the sand approach. This is the “ignorance is bliss,” school of information management, characterized. Appealing in its simplicity, but probably not too adaptive in the long run. Besides, if you got to this page, you are too far gone to seriously consider this approach.

But, don’t despair. There are a host of neuroenhancing drugs that are currently in use, and more are just around the corner. Drugs like Ritalin and Adderall, designed for ADD and ADHD are enjoying soaring popularity for their off label use to increase concentration. Same thing for Aricept, which is typically prescribed for early stage Alzheimer’s disease and Provigil, which is designed for the treatment of narcolepsy. All of these and similar neuroenhancers are supposed to be used to counteract the cognitive deficits of specific syndromes, but a lot of people swear by their use, assuming that more concentration, focus, and greater cognitive stamina is just the leg up that they need to succeed. Not surprising, then, that these kinds of drugs are enjoying their greatest popularity in the Ivy walls of the Northeastern colleges, where students exchange the drugs themselves as well as inside information about how to use them and what symptoms to present to garner the diagnosis necessary to pry a prescription from the family doctor.

And, as the popularity of the drugs increases, are we prepared to deal with the ethical issues accompanying their usage? If cosmetic surgery in the form of breast augmentation makes women more desirable in the dating market, is there anything wrong with cognitive enhancement in the form of neuroenhancing drugs making the user more desirable in the academic or career market? If laser surgery sharpens vision, what is wrong with a simple drug to sharpen concentration?

I am not suggesting, at this point, that we have enough data to make a definitive decision, either ethical or in terms of efficacy on this issue. There is research as well as anecdotal data that these drugs increase a particular kind of mental “stick-to-it-ness,” but have no impact on creativity. And, there is no clear conclusion about long term side effects of extended usage. So, maybe this is a passing trend. But, I doubt it.

What does seem clear, though, is that we are at the intersection of two powerful trends. One is the growing challenge to stay current with the information flow. The other is the trend of to optimize performance in a competitive world. With these two coming together, I have no doubt that ultimately ethics will lose the battle to efficacy.

The economic downturn, otherwise known as the Great Recession of 09, has produced a singular type of abundance; a surfeit of stories announcing our collective, cultural belt-tightening. Here comes the comeuppance that many pundits claim has been due for some time. Take, for example, the recent Time mag report by Kurt Anderson, The End of Excess, in which he reports that America has been on a spending spree that was doomed to bring us to ruin. It’s no longer Morning in America. It is Morning After in America. Here is the way that Anderson talks about the recalibration of expectations that is upon us: The same goes for our individual senses of lifestyle entitlement. During the perma-’80s, way too many of us were operating, consciously or not, with a dreamy gold-rush vision of getting rich the day after tomorrow and then cruising along as members of an impossibly large leisure class. (That was always the yuppie dream: an aristocratic life achieved meritocratically.) Now that our age of self-enchantment has ended, however, each of us, gobsmacked and reality-checked by the new circumstances, is recalibrating expectations for the timing and scale of our particular version of the Good Life. Which, of course, fuels the ferocious anger at the Wall Street rich even now getting richer with subsidized eight-figure bonuses. Anderson compares us to the wily coyote character who would launch himself off the cliff, and, with legs still spinning, linger in mid-air until gravity took hold. Welcome to the gravity pull of economic reality: In the Road Runner cartoons, after each fall, the coyote is broken and battered but never dies. America isn’t going to expire either. But unlike him, we will be chastened and begin behaving more wisely. For years, enthusiasts for unfettered capitalism have insisted that the withering away of enterprises and entire industries is a healthy and necessary part of a vibrant, self-correcting economic system; now, more than at any time since Joseph Schumpeter popularized the idea of creative destruction in 1942, we must endure the shocking and awesome pain of that metamorphosis. After decades of talking the talk, now we’re all obliged to walk the walk. Shock and awe, indeed. And, I suppose there is some comfort in the knowledge that institutions will survive and that the urban renewal project of our economic infrastructure will give way to a renaissance of industry and initiative. But that sounds pretty abstract, particularly if you are dealing with downscaling of individual expectations, hopes and aspirations. On a more personal level, though, there is another potential benefit to the rejiggering of our lifestyles. And, to see this we have to study the way that Europeans have been resolving the conflict between success and life satisfaction. They have been doing it  for so long that it has been institutionalized into the texture of their lifestyle. I’m talking about the concept of quality of life here. When Americans visit Europe we are impressed by the European pace of living. You know what I mean — start work whenever, close down for lunch, take an hour and a half for that lunch, follow it with a siesta (or a midday encounter with a secret paramour in some parts of the continent,) another espresso, no work on the weekend, no biz calls in the evening, no e-mail intrusions, and a minimum of six weeks (paid, no less) vacation. We Americans have had a love-hate relationship with this phenomenon, both envying it and deriding it as something alien to our Horatio Alger, manifest destiny, nose to the grindstone, never say die work ethic. Instead, we in America have celebrated The American Dream which was, and is, for many a workaholic, guilt tripping nightmare. With the new reality of economic downturn we may be forced to embrace, even celebrate, the quality of life paradigm. And, isn’t that a paradox; having to learn to love something that makes us feel good. But, before we do so, it might be a good idea to look at what it is in European culture that makes the good life so good. Over the course of several years, I have spent chunks of time in Italy. One day I had a conversation with an Italian friend (Over an extended afternoon expresso. They don’t have “coffee breaks” there. They go and have coffee. Sit in the cafe. No “to go” cups symbolizing the brevity of their break.) We were talking about the differences between the pace of American life and Italian life. He put it this way, “In Italy, if your father is a butcher, you can become a butcher. And you can have a lot of pride in being a good butcher. Maybe you expand the shop a bit. Maybe you don’t. But, the point is, you are a butcher and have no shame. You focus on being the best butcher you can be. In America, if your father is a butcher, you are honor bound to be a surgeon. Anything less is a failure. The energy that you Americans put into making it to the top, we put into enjoying where we are.” And there it is. The monkey of upper mobility is on our American backs, placed there not because of any desire to punish, but as an incentive to realize the American dream. Each generation has it done to them, and then turns around and does it to the next. It’s like a great generational game of “tag you’re compulsive.” The dream is never satisfied, because the concept of “more” is essential, and “enough” is rarely, if ever, well, enough. Say what you will about the caste system of European society, and there is much to criticize about its segregation, its elitism, its xenophobic attitude toward outsiders, it does provide a vehicle for self-acceptance. And that may be the most poignant lesson for us to learn from our current situation. If nothing else, if we can learn to slow down a bit, to put the brakes on the constant drive for success, and to stop mistaking motion for progress, we will have come a long way. Of course, many will say that we have lost our drive, that we are slackers, that we have given up, but I don’t see it that way. I see it as an opportunity to take a studied look at what is really important and to make conscious choices that fit with our priorities.

I spent two hours yesterday tidying up my cyber-self. With the integration of Facebook, Twitter and WordPress, there was a lot of digital debris that needed to be straightened up. Also, working with an aggregator, an iGoogle page with an embedded Google Reader widget and surfing through a few new web sites…Well, you get the picture. And you have probably had the same feeling. There is so much inbound and outbound traffic that I was feeling like an air traffic controller with ADHD.

The upside of all this digital integration is a streamlined, unitary presence. The downside is that the various platforms, pages, applications and what not can get out of sync, which is disturbing, to say the least. And that is what prompted me to dig in and hunker down on the computer yesterday. The problem is that I am working with less than advanced knowledge about how all these things work together. As an indication of my clumsiness, I just got a note from a friend, correspondent, twitter follower that she appreciated the note that I sent her yesterday.  Except that I didn’t know that I sent anything out. By the way, she has a really cool tweet at  twitter.com/presentry. She is posting little, visual tweets that illustrate just how limiting text can be, and how powerful images can be, in expressing an idea. I recommend it.

All of this got me thinking about what social networking and online interaction is going to look like in the future. Some day we will look back at Facebook and Twitter much like we now look at AOL, Netscape and the WELL, brave pioneers that broke the trail, but became obsolete, replaced by technologies that far surpassed them in both form and function.

In the future, I think, we will see today’s early entries, like FB and Twitter, however whiz bang and advanced they may seem, as somewhat awkward and inelegant expressions of the need for basic human connection. Right now we are very aware of the boundaries between the different platforms and applications, the ways that Twitter provides a vehicle for one type of communication and Facebook another, and Flickr still another yet. But, aren’t all these different modes of communication all in the service of the same basic, human need? The flow of interpersonal connection? In the future, the technology will fall into the background and content and context will, once again, come to the foreground. And none too soon, because with an emphasis on content and context, on meaning, we will stop getting meandering messages announcing that someone we hardly even know, and could care less about, is about to have a taco in Sausalito.

Oh, and by the way, I think I got it all together yesterday afternoon. At least I thought I did, until I found out today that I was sending out photos of the view from my office window without even knowing it. And if you got one of those errant missives, I’m sorry. Oh well, tomorrow’s another day and another opportunity to, once and for all, get it all working right.

I heard an interview with consumer behavior psychologist Paco Underhill on the McNeil Lehrer News Hour Friday which got me thinking about what the next phase of American consumerism is going to look like. There is no shortage of consumer pundits who talk about this subject under the broader heading of the “new normal.” The idea of predicting changes and trends is a voyage in treacherous waters, only undertaken by the brave and the foolish, so here I go. You can decide which category I fall in.

Here is the problem in a nutshell. The old consumer paradigm was one of conspicuous, “I got mine, ain’t life grand” consumerism. The marketplace engine was fueled by the high octane belief that more was better and the sky was the limit. Across the board acquisition was a sign of vitality, even if debt reached staggering heights . Now comes the financial crisis of 2008-2009 and the buying frenzy has become a distant memory. Austerity is the current zeitgeist, and it is being adopted by both those who should have been a bit more austere for some time now and those who really don’t need to be, but don’t want to incur the wrath of others by showy shopping.

Fine, so far. But what comes next?  Underhill makes a somewhat dire prediction that “the engine of buying is going to shut down,” and that we are in for a “recalibration.” Maybe so. As he points out, 60% of disposable income in North America is in the hands of the 55+ consumer, and that they really don’t need to resupply themselves with anything more than socks and underwear. He makes a compelling case for a paradigm shift in our values and behavior.

Add to this the results of a recent Gallup Poll finding that  53% responding to a recent survey say they are spending less, and of that 53%, 32% say that this is a change that has leg;  that they intend to continue with their frugal ways. Hence, the “new normal.” But, headlines aside, this begs the question about the rest of the total sample, the 47% who say they aren’t spending less. (Indeed, 17% of their sample say they are spending more, not less. Makes you wonder what corner of the economy they are living in.) And what about those who say they are spending less, but that the change is only temporary. This group makes up the remaining 21% of the 53% who are saying that they are spending less. They are spending less now, but are itchy to return to the mall.

Here’s where I get a bit skeptical about the early predictions of a landmark shift in American consumer culture. Making these kinds of predictions is skating on thin ice. Remember how everything was going to be different after 911? Thought leaders called this a transformational event that would produce enduring shifts in our values and behavior. Except, it didn’t. “Post 911,” which became a shorthand for “everything you believed is no longer true” may have been a rallying point for some hideously doubtful political policies, but how much did things really change? Of course, there was little real initiative for substantive change from the feckless Bush administration, but even if they had called for something more substantial than a return to shopping, I wonder if it was really in the American DNA to realize any kind of larger shift.

So, what comes after the current crisis? Are we really looking at a “new normal?” Less spending and more saving? And, would this have taken place anyway, independent of the economic downturn because the Boomers are buying less in the seniority? And much of the younger generations rejected consumerism just because they reacted against the Boomer spending lust. Those people aren’t shifting their values. They were already there.

I hesitate before anticipating anything like a paradigm shift in spending. Here’s another way to look at it all. I believe that we will see some changes, but they will be more modest and subtle, although maybe no less meaningful, than those predicted by the pundits. We will return to the shopping arenas once the economy shows signs of recovery , and we will continue to use our purchasing power as a way to define ourselves. But, and this is a big but, the objects of that consumer energy will shift. Glitz and glamour objects of self-definition will likely give way to quieter expressions of who we are and what we value. There may be a “new normal,” but don’t expect it to be characterized by extreme austerity. Instead, look for you and your neighbors to be putting your dollars into items that express what really matters to you, from the inside out, not into items that are meant to impress others. No longer will it necessarily be the new boat, the flashy diamond, or the McMansion. Instead, we are likely to see a growth in things like the educational vacation, the sabbatical, and the voyage inward.

Of course, as I said above, only the brave and the foolish make these kind of predictions. Which camp are you in?

I stumbled across an ad in the NY Times today for Sprint mobile services. The message is contained in the copy, which went as follows:

Welcome to the Now Network.

Population: 49 million

26,488 people are sending work emails from a restaurant

2013 people are sending work emails from a hair salon

And 267,389 people are sending work emails from work

272 people are twittering about a marathon

37 while running themselves

They are picking up the pace

Now.

So, think about this. If you are being annoyed by the guy next to you who is disturbing your meal with constant email activity, you are not alone. Apparently, at any point in time there are almost 27,000 other email slaves who are doing the same thing. Which, is either comforting because it means that you are not alone, or distressing because you are thinking that you should be emailing too.

In full disclosure, I have to admit that I have often been one of those who grabs his iPhone immediately after being seated and fills the dreaded, “empty,” waiting minutes by diving into email-land. Even when it has only been a couple of minutes since the last check. So, no moralizing here. But, a question; what has happened to the idle, introspective interludes? The moments of disengagement when we were left to contemplate, what? our salad, our lives, our relationships, whether the Celtics will make it beyond the first round of the playoffs? And what of our meal companions, the ones we are sitting with or just sitting near. Conversation is killed when the tapping on the phone keyboard begins. An electronic “do not disturb” sign flashes. You can just ask my family (or yours, if they are still talking to you, about it.)

I am reminded of some focus groups I conducted several years ago. The groups were gathered to evaluate the message contained in an ad promoting the “endless connection” that a wireless PDA could provide. I can’t remember the exact copy, but the vignette presented a worker bee, maybe mid level executive, lounging on a beach in Hawaii, clearly in full vacation mode. Except for one thing. He was downloading a report to read in between forays into the surf. So, you get the idea. Always be connected. Never out of reach. Virtual engagement.

Well, the ad got dumped on. The focus group members, biz guys and gals all, were quick to complain that the storyline presented was the bane of their existence, not the boon. That, despite their best efforts, they felt the siren call of the constant connection, just like a chocaholic sees salvation in a Hershey bar. And they hated it. But, when the conversation moved beyond whether they liked the message or not, into the relevance, or benefit of the concept itself, was it appealing?, their mood softened. Yes, they acknowledged, there was a virtue to the continuous connection, and though they hated themselves for it, just like any compulsive hates his compulsions, they would probably rise to the bait presented by the ad.

This ambivalence about being connected is fascinating to me. It brings to mind an old expression, “Sometimes you can’t get enough of what you really don’t want.” Now, that expression probably came from some psycho-babble, relationship, Dr. Phil type doctor, but it certainly reflects our love-hate relationship with connectedness. And, with a glimpse to the future, I am told that the latest status symbol in Hollywood is to be unreachable. Not reachable…yes, you read it correctly. No cell phone. No e-mail. And, to solidify this lofty status, people dialing your phone get connected to a voice mail box, but the message says, “Sorry, this mailbox is full.” And then, nothing. Cold disconnection. Left out there with no way to reach the unreachable one, who has now, since becoming unreachable, become even more desirable than he was when he was a mere twitter away.

These trends, both the dominant one of constant connection and the emerging one of “now you see me, now you don’t,” represent the tug-of-war of our time. We are now enabled by technology and the wizards of Twitter, Facebook and the like, to create a constant milieu of connectivity. Do we really want this? Is multi-tasking a survival skill for the modern era? What will become of the ability to focus on one thing, one task at a time? I’d love to know what you think. That is, if you have read this far without your attention being hijacked by your Blackberry.