It’s Friday evening, early autumn, and I’m dining with colleagues and new acquaintances on Lake Zürich. The host has decided to mix things up a bit, so his table placement ensures that everyone sits next to someone they’ve either never met properly or spent much time with. To my left is a gentleman from the US and, before long, it’s clear that he is not just a pioneer from a whole new world nor an intrepid explorer attempting to navigate uncharted territory; he’s also “citizen zero” in the metaverse.
Our conversation started in the conventional fashion of most dinner-party discussions: “How do you know the host?” “You’re from where?” “Oh, you’ve been there that long? Do you like it?” It was all going predictably perfectly until we got onto the topic of residency and identity. Then the conversation became somewhat strange.
“Well, it depends on how you define identity,” he said. “Identity is ever-evolving and, of course, it depends on who you want to be.”
At this point I was trying to recall whether the host had said something about changing seats with the arrival of every course or if I could pretend that I spotted someone drowning in the lake, dive off the balcony and swim as far away as possible. I was thinking about other escape scenarios when I found myself signalling to the waiter to refill an already topped-up glass and trying to get back into the story.
“I could say that I identify as being an American male but that only represents a tiny fraction of who I am or the possibilities,” he said. “Wouldn’t you agree?”
Good lord! How to respond? Just employ forehead, brow and eyes in an upward jolt that might suggest agreement but also intrigue and maybe even hint at, “Oh please, go on, tell me more.” Dare I engage? Or do I start to conceal a heavy cough? There is a pandemic happening, after all.
“The amazing thing about what we’re about to experience is that we can live multiple lives across multiple platforms,” he says.
Whip-pan the camera over to my side of the table and cue wincing smile.
“Right now I’m an American tech entrepreneur having a conversation with you in the middle of Switzerland. But I’m actively living many different identities while I’m speaking to you. That’s what’s awesome about where the digital universe is about to take us.”
I was about to say, “And right now a Swiss Federal commando unit should squeal up in front of this restaurant, officers should drag you from this table, gag you and have you deported without delay.” But, instead, I continued to show something that resembled tipsy interest.
“Some days I feel much more connected to my personalities in the digital world than I do in this world,” he said, motioning to the hills and lakefront. “You know what I mean, right?”
“Actually, I don’t,” I said. “You’ve kind of lost me. But I think you’re saying that you feel more connected to the characters you become in your gaming world.”
“No, no, you’ve got it wrong,” he said, clasping his head. “Whoa, this isn’t about gaming; this is about living a real life, only it’s a digital life – it’s not a game. When I leave this dinner, I’m going to a concert tonight that would blow your mind. I’ve already bought new trainers; I’ve got the best seat; and I’ll be there with all kinds of other friends. Best of all, we’ll be in Vegas but I don’t have to go there!”
What to do at this point? Go along with it and say that it’s all awesome? Or pull the chord and say that you’ve never heard such a load of old pony in this life, Second Life or since the beginning of humanity. Thankfully, the host jumped in with a toast, my neighbour to the right threw me a social life preserver, things moved on, I went home, jumped into the lake and ensured that I was still mentally intact.
It’s Friday evening, last week, and I’m dining with a friend who knows a thing or two about the human brain, multiple personalities and multi-tasking. “We’re not made for this,” he says calmly. “We might think that we can jump from one identity to the next, do multiple tasks at once. But it simply doesn’t work like that. We’re not designed to live multiple lives – in this life or digitally. We can try but it comes at a cost; something will go wrong.”
And there you have it, dear reader. Focus on the life you have rather than wasting money and precious time on a digital mirage. We have enough to solve and enjoy in daily life without spending it all on an overhyped, dangerous distraction.