There is nothing much better than the joy of sitting down in a nice restaurant: the tables lit with candles, a violinist to line your conversation with Vivaldi or Chopin and dishes that you can’t wait to dive into. As your server comes to the side of your table to introduce themselves and deliver the classic line of “I’ll be helping you out tonight,” you lean back in your chair to relax. This night is going to be incredible.
Suddenly, your peace is disrupted. You watch in horror as the waiter places a placard on your table, a little black and white square imprinted large on the front. The server’s next line makes your stomach drop as your brow furrows: “Just scan that QR code for the menu.” In an attempt to preserve your table manners, you prevent your jaw from dropping, but feel your face go white, your hands clam up, and suddenly it’s not so easy to breathe. Simply put, the digitalization of everything is our downfall.
First of all, the ambience of the restaurant you are in is, without a doubt, ruined. You quickly realize that the candles are battery-powered, the violinist is nothing more than a recording and the dishes probably were slightly photoshopped and plated better in the Google reviews. But the QR code menu is the cherry on top. The illusion is ripped to shreds. The simple act of not having a paper (or plastic, for that matter!) menu to physically hold bursts any sense of realness that remains.
A disclaimer is necessary to ground this argument. I am a college student, a member ofof Generation Z, also known as the “Zoomers” or the “iGeneration.” It may seem ironic or out of left field that someone who has grown up with the internet, iPhones and social media would have any negative opinions about further digitalization. Sure, I can’t go a day without texting, Googling or doomscrolling on any given social media app, but my generation is uniquely qualified to offer this critique.
Gen Z understands digitalization more than anyone else. We have no problem seamlessly setting up any kind of digital account, using two-factor authentication or creating a hotspot. However, we are exactly the kind of people who can easily call out when it is not necessary. Our parents are from a generation that finds constant digitalization “so cool” — my dad is the biggest user of ChatGPT out of anyone that surrounds me — but they blind themselves to the flaws of digitalization in their hurry to accept this newer, faster and more aesthetically modern society.
Don’t even get me started on trying to explain any form of digitalization to my grandparents. The Baby Boomers avoid all digitalization at all costs. My grandmother treks to the Apple store weekly to have them explain the whole “wifi thing” to her. Over break, we went to a restaurant with QR code menus to which my grandma simply said, “I ain’t doing that, just get me whatever kind of plain chicken you have,” which was rude, but she’s creeping up on 80, so I’ll give her a pass.
Attitudes exist on a spectrum: on one end are my parents (Generation X, people young enough to embrace the introduction of the internet and the “coolness” of artificial intelligence (AI) streamlining everything in our society), and on the other are my grandparents (the Baby Boomers who are unwilling to embrace any part of it). In the middle falls my generation, Generation Z. Those who want to embrace digital technology in most aspects but who face the drawbacks of it infiltrating every part of our society. (I’ll put millennials dispersed across it, not exactly sure where they fall.)
Just this past weekend, I went to the new pizza spot that opened up in town. It was fantastic, and this critique has nothing to do with how good that pizza was. However, my experience epitomized the problem of digitalization. You order at the counter, but then you put in your phone number, are notified when your order is ready, and then go and pick it up. Technically, this ‘streamlines’ the process, and the restaurant doesn’t have to pay for the human capital needed to run orders to tables. I have no problem with picking up my own order; I just find the juxtaposition between the vibe of a pretty nice restaurant and my phone being involved in any capacity to be jarring and saddening. Is ‘streamlining’ the process worth losing the human connection?
Finally, I challenge the effectiveness of digitalization. In our current society, I find that a lot of the time, these ‘hip’ digitalized systems just don’t work. My grandparents’ apartment building has recently transitioned from using a key fob to scan into the parking garage to an app and a QR code that you scan for entry. Notably, about 80% of this apartment building’s tenants are over the age of 70. If you think that there is any chance this change has ‘streamlined’ any process, you are sorely mistaken. My grandfather recently confessed that he hasn’t even downloaded the app and just calls the front office for help each time he needs to ‘buzz in.’ It’s simply not effective.
Yes, he may be older and less likely to understand or want to learn how to adapt to this ‘new’ society. But, as someone younger and used to this era, I still can’t get QR code menus to work. Maybe it’s my spotty phone plan or just bad luck, but in restaurants, the menu never loads. I find it is much more effective to just have a physical menu, a process that should continue to withstand the test of time.
The challenges that I have with the digitalization of our society may be nitpicky, but it really boils down to the loss of connection — to the loss of being grounded in a real, physical place. I am by no means anti-internet or anti-technological advancement, but I caution the constant implementation of these technologies into everyday moments of human connection.
As a society, with work-from-home Zoom calls, “order online, pick up in store” features, and Instagram DMs replacing that “catch up coffee,” we are propelling away from a physical world and transitioning into a completely digital age. I embrace the change, yet I still hope to preserve real, in-person, face-to-face connections. With screens encapsulating every sector of our world, we must hold on to what’s left.
