Bud Thompson

I am giving readers a break from my rants about the destructive state budget impasse. In that regard, I am hearing from savvy observers that the next real full-year budget may  not come until after the 2018(!) gubernatorial and legislative elections.  

Those contests will equate to a political Armageddon (a final battle between Good and  Evil, depending upon your point of view). Such a delay in budgeting, the fundamental  responsibility of those we elect, would be unforgivable. 

Instead, I want to focus on the importance of face-to-face conversation in a world “AF”  (After Facebook). In only a short decade or so, this social platform has become central to the  lives of many of my friends and hundreds of millions worldwide. 

The topic comes to mind following a recent visit to the postcard pretty town of  Prophetstown (pop. 2,000), nestled along the Rock River between the Quad Cities and Sterling,  where I wowed (he writes, modestly) the local Lions Club with a talk about Illinois. 

I was invited by old friend Bud Thompson (probably nobody in the town knows his first  name is Howard), who is the consummate community leader. 

From hard-scrabble roots, Bud became a successful hog broker during his working  career. 

Over his 80-plus years, Bud has been mayor and member, most often chair, of the school  board, chamber, Lions, county GOP, state school board association, and state board of education.  At present he is on the Whiteside County Board.

Bud invited me to come early, so he could take me around to local businesses, see the  many outdoor murals painted by local high schoolers under amateur artist Bud’s supervision, and  generally brag up the town he cherishes. 

[We visited local banker Bob Johnston, pharmacy manager Missie Taylor (the store  exists only because of community efforts), hardware owners Dan and Dave Drummet  (Democrats but dear friends of Bud).] 

We wrapped up the tour at Eclipse Park, where Larry Van Dyke has almost single handedly transformed (with the help of Bud and the community foundation) an abandoned  manufacturing site near Main Street into a lovely, well-utilized park. 

As he did that afternoon on our visits, Bud operates face to face. Looks you straight in the  eye and tells you what he thinks, and is equally open to your opinions as well. A natural leader. Later, I asked banker Johnston what Bud meant to Prophetstown: “He doesn’t mean any  one thing to us; he means everything to us!” 

Bud says, simply: “We aren’t here for ourselves.” 

Because today we have our heads continually hunched over our digital devices, I worry that we are losing something precious in diminished face-to-face conversations. Make no mistake, the digital revolution has brought great benefits.  

Oldsters can keep in daily contact with their grandkids’ goings on far away via Facebook. Business communications take place in the wink of an eye, and all the world’s knowledge can  seemingly be brought up on Google Search and Wikipedia. 

Yet the opportunity costs from becoming quasi-slaves to our smartphones are also  significant.

When I taught in China last year, I saw more than one young couple out on dates at  restaurants who literally never spoke to one another, instead both heads hovering over digital  devices. I am afraid we may not be far behind. 

With our digital devices, we are always in control; nobody talks back to us. And because  of the emotional distance created by digital communication, those who blog and comment  anonymously can give vent, often harmfully, to “the beast within us,” as Hobbes might have  said. 

In face-to-face conversation, we are not always in control. We have to shape new  thoughts as we react to the perspectives of others. We also tend to tamp down the beast within  us, which contributes to civility. 

In her book “Reclaiming Conversation,” MIT psychologist Sherry Turkle argues that by  putting down our devices and re-engaging in person, we learn together and can practice  democracy. 

Writing recently in the Wall Street Journal, Susan Pinker reports that face-to-face  communication is indeed good for us, even lessens depression, especially among older folks like  me. 

I can’t see Bud Thompson sitting at home, hunched over a device. He is out in the world,  wrestling with community problems face to face. 

We need to discipline our families to set aside regular time each day to put away the  devices, so we can be involved in our communities.

Previous
Previous

Depression

Next
Next

Reflections From Crumbling Cuba