The Crans Montana Tragedy and the Paradox of Perpetual Outrage
In the wake of the devastating events in Crans Montana, a disturbing pattern emerged: a collective inability to pause, to reflect, and to resist the immediate urge to comment. The tragedy, and the subsequent outpouring of digital reaction, has exposed a widespread reliance on screens – a habit we readily condemn in younger generations, yet readily embrace ourselves.
For days, observers meticulously analyzed videos, social media posts, interviews, and news reports, driven by a genuine desire to understand and to avoid looking away from the enormity of the situation. But as one commentator noted, the issue wasn’t a lack of words, but an “excess noise.” The telephone, it appears, has become our default method of engaging with even the most traumatic events, a way to feel connected without truly experiencing the weight of the moment.
This impulse to immediately share opinions, issue judgments, and endlessly replay footage isn’t limited to the young. In fact, analysis of online commentary following the incident revealed that the most vocal and quick-to-judge were not teenagers, but adults – and particularly, the elderly. These are the same generations who have long lamented the addictive nature of smartphones and the resulting decline in attention spans, yet demonstrated a striking susceptibility to the same “pathology.”
The habituation is, as described by observers, “mirror-like.” Impulsive reactions, instant indignation, and an unwavering belief in personal experience – often framed as “in my time” – dominated the discourse. Recent research is beginning to shed light on a largely overlooked phenomenon: smartphone and tablet addiction among adults and seniors. This manifests as increased anxiety when separated from devices, irritability, and a constant need for stimulation, mirroring the very behaviors often attributed to younger generations. Someone has even coined the term a “telephone-based pension” to describe this phenomenon.
While the pandemic undoubtedly accelerated technology adoption among older adults – providing crucial connections and care during periods of isolation – it’s crucial to acknowledge the potential downsides. It would be a mistake to frame this discussion as a “witch hunt,” as there are undeniably positive aspects to technology use. However, the increasing vulnerability of seniors to online scams and dangers cannot be ignored. Addiction, it seems, is not defined by age, but by the underlying mechanisms it exploits.
When confronted with a tragedy like the one in Crans Montana, the allure of the screen is powerful, offering a refuge to watch, react, and perhaps, to deflect from the unsettling reality of life’s unpredictability. The irony, however, is stark: we are quick to assign blame to young people for seeking solace in screens, while simultaneously granting ourselves justification for the same behavior. We question why youth appear fragile, yet fail to model the very qualities – patience, reflection, and mindful engagement – we expect from them.
The victims of Crans-Montana, and their families, do not need another wave of instant judgment. They need a shift towards a more reasoned approach, one that prioritizes thoughtful engagement over impulsive reaction. The question remains: how do we move forward, and how can we find ways to get busy with living, rather than endlessly documenting it from the sofa with a phone inches from our faces?
