Though the meeting was secret, it was the most important of the day–at least in terms of social trends in America. It underscored one of the major effects of the new wave of terrorism. Aimed at airplanes and, now, at Congress and the mail-delivery infrastructure, terrorism is forcing us faster than ever out of our offices and public places and into a potentially claustrophobic, homebound universe of e-mail, teleconferencing and digital entertainment. Need proof? Today, House Speaker Dennis Hastert announced that the Capitol complex will be closed for five days so hallways and offices can be swept for anthrax.
Americans may soon feel they have only one choice left: between real viruses and virtual ones. If that’s the case, they’ll pick the latter. The Internet, to be sure, is a priceless asset. Just ask folks whose cell phones were knocked out after Sept. 11, but who were able to use e-mail to reassure loved ones. Or doctors from coast to coast who use the Net to to access the latest health information. Or worried citizens who can use the ever-growing number of government Web sites that offer reliable advice.
But retreating into a stay-at-home world has risks–both political and social. Our democracy was built on the ideal of a common good arrived at by gathering in public places: in, say, a New England town meeting, a city council, a political convention–or in the halls of Congress. Offices and shop floors are the other centers of democracy. Broadcast TV, the country’s cultural glue, is full of shows about the hardships and humor of contentious, but instructive, life in the work place.
If we retreat too far into our homes, we risk losing simple human contact and the enlightenment that can come from face-to-face debate. It could become all too easy, and too tempting, to search for only those digital outlets–and they are multiplying by the day–that offer comfort, reassurance and reinforcement of already-held views. A man in a cave in Afghanistan, it turns out, is trying to drive us into digital caves in America. The danger: we’ll end up every bit as ignorant as he is, tied only to those who believe exactly as we do.
Look at what’s happening in my business. The newsroom used to be the glory and training ground of the trade, a place where dozens of reporters and editors gathered, where the values and strategies of the craft were transmitted, argued over–and honored. Economic pressures and the computer age had long since forced the start of a dismembering of the newsrooms of old. But the idea that the places themselves are literally lethal–that a single piece of mail could make it so–could finish them off.
Teleconferencing was becoming a way of life even before “Nine-Eleven” changed business life forever. Businesses that were looking for ways to cut down on air-travel costs now have other, more urgent reasons for doing so. The time wasted on business trips is rising exponentially; there’s no first-class ticket available that can allay the fears and frustrations of getting on a plane these days. Forward-looking CEOs already were switching over: last summer, NASA chief Dan Goldin purchased a score of gas-plasma screens for his agency’s far-flung, high-speed network. Electronic meetings now work like a charm–and save tons of money.
Remember, on Day One, how George Bush flew from Louisiana to Offutt Air Force Base in Nebraska rather than coming straight back to Washington? There were security concerns, of course, but there was another reason Nebraska was his destination. Offutt has a state-of-the-art, secure teleconferencing center. Bush could quickly preside over an emergency meeting of the National Security Council from there. Since then, he has run NSC meetings by teleconference every Saturday from Camp David.
Congress can’t, or at least hasn’t, met by teleconference. And yet on the Hill this week there is an aura of deep concern for the health and safety of the members, and thousands of staff. Thus far, ground zero is in the Hart Senate Office Building at the edge of the Capitol Hill complex. But plans are underway to essentially wall off the Hill (once the House reopens, that is) from easy public access. From time to time, I would get annoyed when tourists from the heartland clogged the halls of Congress. But their presence was living proof of the health of our democracy.
I hope they will come back.
Years ago, on a winter night as peaceful as a print by Currier & Ives, I attended my first State of the Union address in the House of Representatives. It was cozy inside, as if everyone was gathered around the fireplace for the holidays. I remember thinking how astonishing it was to witness such an intimate gathering of the American family. It was a sense of nationhood we cannot afford to lose, and that I am not sure can be duplicated online.
