The Effects of the Telephone
by John Brooks
(cause/effect)

What has the telephone done to us, or for us, in the hundred years of its existence? A few effects suggest themselves at once. It has saved lives by getting rapid word of illness, injury, or famine from remote places. By joining with the elevator to make possible the multistory residence or office building, it has made possible-for better or worse-the modern city. By bringing about a quantum leap in speed and ease with which information moves from place to place, it has greatly accelerated the rate of scientific and technological change and growth in industry.

However, beyond a doubt, it has crippled if not killed the ancient art of letter writing. It has made living alone possible for persons with normal social impulses; therefore, by so doing, it has played a role in one of the greatest social changes of the 20th century: the breakup of the multigenerational household.

Perhaps, though not provably, it has prevented wars that might have arisen out of international misunderstanding caused by written communication. Or perhaps-again not provably-by magnifying and extending irrational personal conflicts based on voice contact, it has caused wars. Certainly it has extended the scope of human conflicts, since it impartially disseminates the useful knowledge of scientists and the babble of bores, the affection of the affectionate and the malice of the malicious.

But the question remains unanswered. The obvious effects just cited seem inadequate, mechanistic; they only scratch the surface. Perhaps the crucial effects are evanescent and unmeasurable. Use of the telephone involves personal risk because it involves exposure; for some, to be "hung up on" is among the worst of fears; others dream of a ringing telephone and wake up with a pounding heart. The telephone's actual ring-more, perhaps, than any other sound in our daily lives-evokes hope, relief, fear, anxiety, or joy according to our expectations. The telephone is our nerve-end to society.

In some ways, the telephone is in itself a paradox. In one sense, a metaphor for the times it helped create, in another sense, the telephone is their polar opposite. It is small and gentle-relying on low voltages and miniature parts-in times of hugeness and violence. It remains basically simple in time of complexity. It is so nearly human, re-creating voices so faithfully that friends or lovers need not identify themselves by name even when talking across oceans, that to ask its effects on human life may see hardly more fruitful than to ask the effect of the hand or the foot. But we will do well to ask ourselves this question the next time we jump up from our meal, our bed or our work to answer its beckoning call.

(adapted from Rosa and Escholz, Eds. Models for Writers: Short Essays for Composition. 6th ed. New York: St. Martin's Press, 1998. pp. 416-417.)