At the same time, if we can resign ourselves to a technological ontology (or state of being), if we can just accept that we are trapped in this world, it is hard to ignore all the ways that tools like Zoom are going to make possible the continuation of life through this pandemic. Because of technology, kids can keep going to school and their parents . People can keep their jobs. People They can see a doctor, order their groceries, connect with friends and family, offer help to others, and not be so alone.

Zoom has already started to create a new way of being. For instance, it demands that we all learn a new etiquette: Auto-mute yourself when you join, unmute when you need to talk, then re-mute. Make sure you’re not backlit. Make your background image is appropriate and uncluttered. Don’t go to Zoom meetings in bed. If you have to share your own computer screen, for the love of God, make sure what comes up is appropriate for everyone to see.

For those of us who teach sensitive topics that require careful reading and discussion, Zoom is no substitute for in-person education. It is hard to know when to let a pause happen, when to see that a student wants to speak but is too shy to raise their hand, when to perceive that they are hurting emotionally. No doubt, we will hack through the rest of the semester. I will record my lecture on the Holocaust, knowing that it is the most important lecture I give for in that class, but I already know most of my students will not watch it. I will grade my students’ papers on Svetlana Alexievich’s Zinky Boys, but we won’t be able to discuss the brutality of the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan or the scars left by war.

They may not seem like much, but these discussions matter. In a world that values the movement of capital over almost everything else, these sorts f discussions reinforce the importance of empathy and the fragility of life. I will stumble through the uncomfortable, exhausting Zoom classes, where every session feels doubly long. I recognize that for some learners, even if class is on Zoom, it is still an important experience and I need to think carefully about how to connect with them. I think of the students who want to learn, who want to be in the classroom with me, who see school as a great emancipator. But for every one of those, I suspect two see college merely as a credentialing service, a notch on the resume, and a chance to put off adulthood. They may think that Zoom is fine—and, as Heidegger reminds us, that is all the more reason to be wary of it.

Notes

[1] Martin Heidegger, Question Concerning Technology, and Other Essays, The (New York, NY: Harper Torchbooks, 1977).