There is an old saying that has been around for hundreds, if not thousands, of years: "Familiarity breeds contempt." The earliest known source that I can find is from the sixth century BCE in one of Aesop's Fables, "The Lion and the Fox". A fox happens to meet a lion in the forest one day and is shy and afraid, because the fox had never encountered a lion before. The fox runs away and hides. The next day, the fox runs into the same lion a second time, but instead of running away, the fox stands behind a tree and watches the lion carefully and closely. The fox encounters the lion for a third time later, but this time stands proudly in front of the lion and asks, "What's going on?" We are led to believe that the fox becomes too comfortable with the lion and ends up getting eaten as a result. Familiarity, in this case, caused the fox to let his guard down, when he definitely should have been more careful around the "King of the Jungle".
The question I would ask is whether this ancient proverb is, in fact, true. As we get to know a complete stranger, are we more apt to like the individual more or less? Conventional wisdom would suggest the former. Nicholas Carr, who is becoming one of my favorite authors as of late, writes about this very subject in his most recent book, Superbloom: How Technologies of Connection Tear Us Apart (based partly on an article he wrote for The Boston Globe in 2017, "How tech created a global village - and put us at each other's throats"). Carr starts with the premise that since the invention of the telegraph in the 19th century, there's been an attitude that advances in communication technology would promote social harmony. In other words, the more we know each other, the better connected we become as a society.
For example, a New York Times columnist celebrated the laying of transatlantic Western Union cables in 1899 by writing, "Nothing so fosters and promotes a mutual understanding and a community sentiment and interests as cheap, speedy, and convenient communication." Guglielmo Marconi wrote in 1912 that his invention of the radio would "make war impossible, because it will make war ridiculous." Later, John J. Carty, an engineer at AT&T said in a 1923 interview that the telephone would "join all the peoples of the earth in one brotherhood." The Canadian writer and philosopher Marshall McLuhan, perhaps most famous for coining the phrase "the medium is the message" as well as predicting the World Wide Web nearly 30 years before it was invented, suggested in his book The Gutenberg Galaxy that the new era of communication would create a "global village", bringing us all closer together as one society. Finally, Meta's Mark Zuckerberg suggested in 2012 that Facebook was more than a business, it was on a social mission to make the world a better place, writing, "People sharing more creates a more open culture and leads to a better understanding of the lives and perspectives of others."
As Carr points out in the Boston Globe article, if greater communication brings people together more, then we should be seeing greater harmony (in Carr's words, "a planetary outbreak of peace, love, and understanding"), not less. It's fairly obvious who Carr blames for the current state of affairs. Social media, rather than bringing us closer together as Zuckerberg hoped for in 2012, has only pushed us further apart.
Carr refers to social media in Superbloom by stating, "As a machine for harvesting attention, its productivity is unmatched. As a machine for bending the will, it is a triumph of efficiency. In engineering what we pay attention to, it also engineers much else about us - how we talk, how we see other people, how we experience the world." And more often than what was previously the case, our society spends more time communicating in the virtual world via social media than they do in the real world. He suggests that "a full fifteen years before the arrival of COVID-19, people were already choosing lockdown."
The abundance of research also tells us that greater communication doesn't lead to greater social harmony. The evidence tells us that (1) people are more willing to share information on social media that they wouldn't share in person or in other modes of communication (called the online disinhibition effect); (2) the more we know about someone, the less we like them (see Michael Norton's article, "Less is more: The lure of ambiguity, or why familiarity breeds contempt" as one example of many similar studies). A group of British researchers labeled this "digital crowding", stating "With the advent of social media, it is inevitable that we will end up knowing more about people, and also more likely that we end up disliking them because of it." We have become like the fox in Aesop's Fable. We would do well to remember that things didn't go to well with the fox in the end.