READY PLAYER ONE and our Virtual Selves

Over Thanksgiving break, I read this book Ready Player One on a whim. It was a young adult futuristic novel that takes place in the year 2044. In a world driven by natural disasters, resource shortages, and overpopulation, there is a vast online virtual reality universe called OASIS that people—especially the main character Wade—spend all their time on in order to escape their bleak reality. The world is filled with everything from virtual reality videogames to virtual classrooms. However, people who engage in the virtual reality world are all obsessed with one common mission—the quest of finding the virtual “keys” in that world somewhere that would eventually lead to the late OASIS founder’s fortune, a fortune that he left behind for the first person that would solve his riddles and find all three of his “keys”, in order to claim both his fortune and control of OASIS. The game pits unlikely hero Wade against corporations battling to find the keys and take control of OASIS with entry fees and limited access.

Though I mostly considered Ready Player One to be a fast-paced, thrilling adventure book, I also found it to contain revelations about our current and future society. We’ve become increasingly virtual since personal computers and cell phones were made. As time progresses and technology gets even more elaborate, would we choose to abandon reality in favor of virtual worlds? In the novel, the main character Wade has lost his parents from an early age, and lives with extended family that he hates, so it makes sense that he would spend all his time involved in his online quest. But what about other people who live in close-knit families and communities? Would they choose to separate themselves from the “real” people around them to pursue the experiences and people that the encounter online?

Another topic that is addressed in this novel is regarding the differences in the ways we present ourselves online versus the ways we present ourselves in real life. In the reality world, Wade augments his features, making his avatar slightly slimmer and less acne-prone. One of his best friends on OASIS is this avatar named Aech. Aech is a white male, and yet Wade finds out later in the book that the person behind Aech is actually a black female who made her avatar white and male because she thought being a white guy would make her more successful and give her more opportunities. It’s no secret that when we can create virtual versions of ourselves even in today’s society—in games, social forums, etc.—we often augment the “good” parts of ourselves, like Wade, or change our appearance entirely, like Aech, in order to communicate across to others a better version of ourselves. Though we might be able to project our “ideal” selves, it does potentially hurt the genuineness of our communication—we might become entirely different people on the Internet, and people would make friends with not our true selves but the selves we project. 

How Digital Maps Save Lives

Growing up in a digital age, the days of traveling by paper map seem far in the past. I still remember being a part of the experience—looking over my dad’s shoulder on road trips as he painstakingly marked exits and destinations with a pencil, helping read the map for him while he navigated unknown roads. But still, paper maps had their limits. They couldn’t mark detours, road changes, accidents, or disasters.

It’s a marvel how much cartography has evolved into the sophisticated, comprehensive digital maps of today. Far beyond merely giving me easy access to GPS capabilities or warning me about traffic, digital mapping can provide information on little-known places and, when disaster strikes, digital mapping can save lives.

In earthquake-prone areas, computer scientists have collaborated with humanitarian aid workers and locals to construct a comprehensive digital map during times of relative peace; when disaster hits, the map alters. Collapsed buildings and blocked roads are taken into account, and places where humans are trapped, or in need of rescue or supplies are marked on the updated map. This method was used by Kathmandu Living Labs, founded by Nepalese-American computer scientist Dr. Nama Budhathoki, after their 7.8 magnitude earthquake of April 2015. However, this concept of “crisis mapping” goes back even further, back when Patrick Meier, in the wake of the 2010 catastrophic Haiti earthquake, decided to compile everything from the internet—tweets, Facebook posts, images—to construct a “disaster map” of the area. Crowdsourcing the information allowed locals to inform Meier and his team of the areas in most critical need of rescue or supplies, which then helped enormously in directing humanitarian aid efforts. Meier marked big red dots on the digital map to indicate pharmacies that were still operating, or that needed help. After the Haiti earthquake, Meier has tried to bring digital mapping a step further, and his next project is using drone technology to put together an even more seamless and comprehensive 3-D model of areas prone to disaster.

Meier's map of pharmacies during the Haiti earthquake (source)

To me, this seems like an example of a way in which social media and digital technology has enormously benefited communities, especially in times of disaster. Digital technology opens up channels of connectivity and allows for quick, adaptive humanitarian responses that would not have been able to be accomplished if maps were still confined to paper. Still, digital mapping overall is a relatively new technology, and its wide-reaching capabilities can potentially cause privacy infringements. But is that a small risk that is outweighed by the life-saving power of maps? Or should that be a bigger concern?