One of the biggest challenges of being a parent these days is having to keep up to speed with an ever-changing digital landscape.
My children were part of the first generation that not only had widespread access to social media, but also — crucially — smartphones.
My daughter was just starting secondary school when apps such as Instagram, Snapchat and musical.ly — the precursor to TikTok — came on the scene.
Mobile phones went from being practical objects to portals into worlds many of us could neither imagine nor comprehend.
As a child of the analogue age, it took me a while to realise what was happening — by which time it was too late. The Pied Pipers of Palo Alto had already led an entire generation into the digital abyss.
My daughter suffered the consequences of this through horrendous online bullying, and her experience was by no means unique.
I failed to protect her for the simple reason that I didn’t really understand what was going on.
My only consolation is that by witnessing what she went through, her younger brother adopted a far more cautious approach. But still.
Consequently, I’m now quite au fait with the online world, albeit more out of duty than desire. Friends with younger children often consult me on how to manage their own issues, and my advice is always the same: don’t bury your head in the sand.
It goes without saying that we would all rather our children were reading Milton and Chaucer than obsessing about some viral lip-balm promoted by a 12-year-old with half a million followers or mouthing along to Doja Cat in a crop-top. But that ship has sailed.
There’s no choice but to engage with it, even if you find it banal. Make it your business to know what your child is up to in cyberspace — only then can you protect them.
All of which is why, last week, I decided to take a trip to the frontline of the next digital revolution: the metaverse.
Following an alarming report that the police were investigating a case of ‘virtual sexual assault’ on a 16-year-old, I thought I had better experience for myself this new(ish) online world which, its creators never tire of telling us, is the future of the human race. The metaverse is loosely defined as a three-dimensional digital space that uses virtual reality to allow people to have lifelike experiences online.
If you believe the hype, soon we will all abandon our dreary analogue lives to lead far more glamorous digital ones as avatars in a universe of infinite possibilities.
It’s the new frontier, the next step in our evolution — not to mention an opportunity for lots of people to make lots of money.
According to management consultants McKinsey & Co, the metaverse ‘could be worth $5 trillion by 2030, and is potentially the biggest new growth opportunity for several sectors in the coming decade that include consumer packaged goods, retail, financial services, technology, manufacturing and healthcare’.
On this basis, I was expecting something truly spectacular when I donned my Meta Quest 2 headset, gateway to this new Nirvana. Sleek and white, it resembles a pair of giant binoculars, only the goggles are on the inside.
Setting it all up was straightforward, including creating an avatar which bore no resemblance to the real me (being young, slim and blonde). I had visions of myself gadding about the metaverse like some sort of Hollywood superhero, doing all kinds of exciting things (backflips, mainly) that would be impossible in real life.
But when I embarked on my adventure, the (virtual) reality could not have been more different. I had imagined inhabiting a sophisticated video game: but it was, in fact, like being stuck in a pixelated version of the Lego movie, all primary colours and unnavigable shapes.
The main problem, I quickly realised, was that no amount of man-made technology is a substitute for the sleek, sophisticated, effortless functioning of the human body as devised by nature. It was like learning to walk all over again.
I spent most of my time bumping into virtual walls or getting stuck in digital corners.
Eventually, I got a bit more comfortable with the controllers, and wandered around a few places where other avatars were hanging out. But, honestly, I could find very little going on. It was like being at a very boring party with a bunch of people you’ve never met.
It also had the disconcerting effect of making me feel distinctly seasick, even though I was sitting still. And I was acutely aware of the fact that, to any casual real-world onlooker, I looked utterly absurd, sitting there contorting myself on the sofa as my avatar stumbled around in cyberspace.
Thinking perhaps it was just me, I asked my daughter to have a go. Within half an hour she’d declared herself bored and went back to playing Anagrams on her phone.
Even her friend, whose eyes had lit up at the sight of the headset, discarded it after a few minutes. I gave it a few more goes but, eventually, gave up after I developed a splitting headache that lasted a day and a half.
But it was worth it. Because now I know that, however much the likes of Mark Zuckerberg and others may wish to tell us otherwise, the metaverse is a long way off being any kind of substitute for the real world.
One day, perhaps, we’ll all be living our lives like digital moles, blindly strapped to our devices. But not for now, at least.
Hats off to Rosamund’s glorious Globes get-up
And the winner is . . . Rosamund Pike, for this extraordinary outfit, which she wore to the Golden Globes.
She didn’t actually take home an award but, as Lady Elspeth, she was the best thing in the film Saltburn by a country mile. She also claimed she wore the Philip Treacy hat to cover up a skiing injury sustained on Boxing Day — but who needs an excuse to look this fabulous?
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Brave Roya Heshmati, 33, received 74 lashes with a leather whip for refusing to wear a hijab while walking through the streets of Tehran.
She is just one of countless Iranian women who have fallen foul to this brutal, misogynistic regime, which ruthlessly imposes Sharia law on its people and also funds the rapists and terrorists of Hamas. People who march in the streets objecting to Israel’s right to defend itself might stop to think about that.
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Bingo! It’s genetics
Vital scientific breakthrough: bingo wings are genetic. At a time of year when so many of us are slogging our guts out in overpriced gyms, it’s heartening to know that those stubborn flaps of fat are not necessarily our fault: in fact, they’re down to genes and oestrogen. This chimes with my own experience: BC (before children), I had perfectly decent upper- arms. Then I breastfed, and they’ve never been the same. That’s my excuse, anyway, and I’m sticking to it.
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Dominating the headlines, a story of global importance: Jennifer Aniston has had a haircut. Apparently, fans have identified a similarity between her famous ‘Rachel’ style and the ‘do’ she wore to Sunday’s Golden Globes. Have they been at Elon Musk’s stash? The two styles look nothing like each other.
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Andrew Tate has boasted that he plans to buy Jeffrey Epstein’s private island in the Caribbean. Makes sense, I suppose. It’s the ideal piece of real estate for someone who is facing trial for rape and human-trafficking.
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A little Welsh mouse has gone viral after a video emerged in which she (I’m assuming it’s a she) tidies up retired postman Rodney Holbrook’s shed at night. Perhaps she’s been reading Good Mousekeeping…
This news is republished from another source.
