There are many reasons why we should be worried about the internet. It’s vulnerability to hackers and thieves is one. It’s algorithms that drive information feedback bias for another. But my concern for the moment has to do with its information transfer efficiency that leads to user shock in the three-dimensional world. We come to believe we are brains on sticks. 

When working on the computer, I might manage 20 business conversations in an hour. I can write a memo in 5 minutes. I can prepare a color chart in a half hour and distribute it to a dozen people. I can make 30 investment changes in an hour. I can have a Zoom conversation with 10 people and complete an important meeting with them in 15 minutes. The efficiency is amazing and perhaps a little intoxicating. Perhaps it is also toxic.

What happens to me when I decide I need to paint a room in my house, and I have no experience with painting. I could always hire someone else to do the job, of course, but that only reinforces my concern. It means I have opted out of a relatively easy job at a high cost to me. 

But let’s say I decide to tackle the task. I can watch a number of videos on YouTube. This would give me some useful information, no doubt. But eventually I have to do some work in the physical world. I have to clear the furniture out of the room so I don’t get paint all over it. I have to move all that stuff somewhere where it doesn’t get in the way and will allow me to access anything I’ve moved. I have to buy some plastic sheeting, which I could do online, but that means delays, so I have to go to the store and buy some. Plus I need some of the right kind of tape to hold the plastic in place. Then I actually have to lay down the plastic, trim as necessary, and tape. I might have to get on my knees! 

Am I ready to paint yet? No, I have to deal with nail holes and cracks, first figuring out what materials are useful for filling the gaps, and then learning about the materials needed to keep cracks from simply forming again in the same place. After learning these things I have to put on my joint compound and joint tape and/or spackle. Then I have to let them dry. I may have to do another layer. Just getting the walls and ceiling smooth may take several days. This takes patience! And it’s not convenient to have the room apart like this. 

When I’m finally satisfied with the smoothness, it’s time to paint. I may need to do a prime coat. Paint will not have the same look if it’s going over joint compound in one area and old paint in another. Okay, do the priming. But I will need a brush and a roller and a roller extension pole, and a rolling pan. I’ll need a ladder. Got to get all that stuff together for the job. 

Then it’s time to paint. What sheen? You have to decide. Most people like a flat sheen on walls because flat paints hide flaws better, but flat paint does not clean up so easily. Is the room going to see a lot of young kid action? You may want to use a semi-gloss or a satin sheen in case, say, someone decides to do a crayon drawing on the wall. Then there’s the color. Colors are hard to pick. They never look the same in a room as they do on a swatch. You may paint a wall and then say, “Ugh. This is definitely not the color I was imagining.” Back to the paint store. Use a light color; that’s my advice. 

Then there’s the painting of the wood trim. Same color? Same sheen? Typically people use a semi-gloss or a gloss on woodwork. After everything is painted you should do a round or two of touch-up to get rid of drips and to fill in areas you missed. It’s good to do this in varied light conditions. Don’t forget the paint brush, roller, and pan clean-up that has to happen several times through the process. (Don’t wear your nice clothes for this job; that’s my advice. And don’t walk through the house with wet paint on the bottom of your shoes.) How many times have you run off to the hardware store so far?

When you’re finally finished you have to pull up the plastic and tape and throw it all away. Then clean the floor. Then return all the furniture where it came from. (The walls look so great that the furniture looks shabbier than you remember. Sorry about that.)

All this is a lot of work, but it’s good stuff. This kind of work adds to the quality of our lives, and the process itself is good for developing skills, for learning patience, and for practicing perseverance. It’s character-building. And it’s a lot different than what goes on in the artificial world of computers. 

We need this kind of work. Our bodies need to be active. The process seems plodding and frustrating because we are used to the snap-the-fingers internet. But the job is not really that hard; it’s just we who have become lazy. Don’t let the computers turn you into one of them. We are not brains on sticks. We are embodied beings. We need to spend large portions of our lives living and playing and working in the real world. That’s my advice.