We should start looking up from our wrists and looking at the faces of those around us, writes Gina Barreca.
There's research and development going on to offer the world a new kind of Fitbit-type measuring tool that would be able to give you feedback about your mood.
I'm intrigued.
Let me explain one thing before we continue: I don't own a Fitbit because it would end up owning me.
I'm the kind of person who, when performing an eye exam, squints in order to be able to read the smallest letters on the bottom line. I want to do well; I was always THAT child. The concept that this type of medical exam is meant to measure but not judge my vision is something I understand intellectually but cannot accept viscerally. I end up with the wrong glasses as a result of trying to get an "A'' (or a "DPNPTH'') on the test.
But if a Fitbitty device could tell me about my mood? That might be worth an investment - especially if it could give me some honest emotional feedback.
I wouldn't want simply to know that I'm angry. That I can figure out all by myself: I can feel my teeth clench; I start to rub my thumb against my index finger; I narrow my eyes. The signs aren't subtle. I become a parody of a Disney villain.
But what if a device could tell me whether I am appropriately angry? Would it be able to tell me, "You have every right to be furious. This person is treating you with contempt and assuming you'll be too intimidated to respond reasonably''?
Or would it be able to say, "You're over-reacting because you feel vulnerable in this situation, but you're being addressed with appropriate respect and have no right to be outraged''?
I'd buy such an item in a rapidly pounding heartbeat.
Could it tell me whether I have a right to feel jealous of a woman who seems to be flirting a little too aggressively at my husband or let me know I'm just feeling bad about how I look and am therefore projecting my own issues out into the world?
Could it tell me whether I'm buying a red-striped boat-neck top because I genuinely like it or just because it's on sale? Even better, could it block my credit card from being used to make the purchase, because you know very few people look good in a red-striped top and I am most certainly not one of them?
I suspect the most useful application would be the one that clued me in to whether I was kidding myself: "Reading yet another article will not get you any closer to finishing your book proposal,'' or "Nobody cares whether you wore the same outfit to the last event. Leave the house on time. Just don't wear the striped top.''
Friends have specific and clever suggestions. Pat Myers, whom I met years ago at the Washington Post, wants her device to say, "You just logged a genuinely kind, unselfish action! Do 11 more towards today's goal!'' Talk about taking steps in the right direction.
Hope Carloni wants to know "how many times a day my children laugh,'' because, "then I know they're happy and I don't have to text them with my 'Happiness check' where they have to rate themselves on a 1-10 scale.''
Elizabeth Keifer wants an alert to "tell me when smart, mature, cute, emotionally available men are around,'' to which Elizabeth Addison immediately responded, "It's already programmed to do that, but it never gets any data.'' You can hear the rimshot with that one.
Men, too, wished for something to stop them from self-defeating internal monologues and useless worry.
Some even said they'd stopped using their existing Fitbits because they felt they were being weighed and found wanting (or weighed and found heavy), thereby making them feel worse rather than better.
My friend from Texas, Dundee Lackey, sums it all up by saying she wants to know "when this is a YOU problem, and not a ME problem''.
It's clearly an "our'' problem. Maybe if we started looking up from our wrists and looking at the faces of those around us, we'd have a better sense of ourselves. We might approach 20/20 insight.
- Gina Barreca is an author and distinguished professor of English literature at the University of Connecticut.
