The ivory tower (la tour d'ivoire) refers to academic theories detached from real life. When we describe someone as "living in an ivory tower," we mean they are "out of touch with reality, living in their own world." Today, with the internet's real-time nature, convenience, and personalization, anyone with an idea can publicly share their views. These perspectives find like-minded people and form niches; if they continue to spread, they consolidate into "critical mass," and eventually overflow into the mainstream, causing newcomers to "follow the crowd."
Media theorist McLuhan described the "electronic environment as a myth" even before the 1970s, arguing that speed alone could restore our Balinese spirit of "doing everything well" and "valuing quality and detail."
McLuhan's "electronic media" then referred to radio and television, which he believed changed how the public accessed information. In today's context, this translates to the "internet." Paul Levinson, founder of the Connected Education Network, reinterpreted this idea, arguing that the "compression of time" in the internet age is itself a virtual myth.
For example, a viewpoint or article we post online today can easily be seen by someone on the opposite side of the globe. In the physical writing era of the past, it might have taken years for academic perspectives to travel across oceans. Not to mention such distant scenarios—nowadays, our online perspectives are easily seen by people who didn't previously know us, and they form subjective first impressions based on our writing style, viewpoints, and logical structure.
Of course, the internet allows each of us to pursue information about "myths" in our own way and at our chosen time, honing our tools for independently seeking truth. Yet no one can guarantee that all this information is true. Even as the internet genuinely helps us and makes life better, or rather, allows us to create the appearance of living well.
This is what I call "keyboard work in the post-ivory tower era." In the past, during the industrial age—or more accurately, before the internet—people communicated face-to-face, with far more opportunities to bridge gaps or overlook them. Now, many moments find us staring at our screens, thinking about social media aesthetics, article quantity, viewpoints, and structure, or immersed in reading. This can lead to "creating an online image while neglecting actual human contact and engagement with the world."
The effects of the internet age are unexpected. We never imagined that writing shared through the internet could help others know us, agree with us, or understand us. But when everyone holds the right to publish different perspectives, does the mythical quality the internet brings risk filling the world with fiction, at the expense of genuine understanding?
This is what I'm reflecting on.
We live in an age when travel is convenient and meeting new people is easy—we don't need to live in an ivory tower. Yet we confine ourselves in front of screens, or bring our laptops to cafés, still staring at screens thinking and writing.
Building influence requires keyboard work, but reducing contact with the real world and instead immersing ourselves in the virtual, constructing our lives piece by piece—is this truly enough for people to understand me? Do I really have the capability? Are people's expectations of themselves too low or too high? These gaps between the internet and reality deeply resonate with me.
It's ironic that I'm writing this reflective essay online…but I'm still learning. By the way, after finishing this article, I discovered that McLuhan also mentioned that when the virtual reaches a certain degree, people will "retribalize," meaning they'll try to close the distance with the real world and "liberate themselves." He said this 40 years ago (truly a prophet).
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