Early summer. We all sit around the table, my family and I. My brother-in-law is chatting away, passes me the newspaper and points out that A.L. Snijders has died. I say “Oh dear, oh no”, which I never actually say, but I don’t know how else to express that his death is a real loss, both for myself and for the very-short-story-reading Dutch. Strangely enough, the children are completely silent. My father regularly and quite pontifically puts his thumbs up (is it a tic?). Then we are quiet again. At one point, my sister suddenly stands up, takes out a photo album and shows us two photos: my niece is standing in a summer dress on a lawn, my youngest nephew proudly shows his new bike. “Beautiful!” I say, and I mean it. I want to be in that lawn with my niece. Then we all get up and leave without saying a word. Half an hour later we all meet again. My sister shows us another photo, a beautiful one of my oldest nephew’s naked, vulnerable back. I see his spine, the downy hairs on his shoulder. I applaud and my father exclaims, “Wonderful!”. Then we all get up again to leave, but stop halfway through. My father again puts his thumb up and smiles broadly, my brother-in-law quickly pushes me another newspaper, something about misbehaving academics, but I’ve read something like that too often. Then we actually leave. Five minutes later I hear my brother-in-law yell something from the hallway, but I pretend I don’t hear him because I have to work. He doesn’t mind, he ignores me so often too — we do it all the time. If we imagine how an app-conversation would take place in real life, it’s rather alienating and slightly absurd. That’s not how a real conversation goes. A real conversation goes deeper and has a less superficial dynamic. You see the other’s body language, hear their intonation, and adjust what you say and how you say it. In real conversations, there is still room for silence and proper listening. We have forgotten how to have real conversations. Digital communication has made communication more superficial. The only people who still have real conversations are people behind the geraniums, because they still have the time for it. Fewer actual conversations? I’m not saying that, Emma Bruns said that a while ago in NRC . She’s not alone: she represents a sizable battalion of app-skeptics who are genuinely concerned that we’re losing ‘contact’ with each other by texting so much. Are we really having fewer actual conversations? All of us? Are friendships getting more and more superficial? Do we have less face-to-face contact? Scientific research certainly does not show that. Of course, it has been shown that face-to-face conversations are important for all kinds of things, and cannot be replaced by digital variants, and also that (excessive) texting can create problems — all that is not news. But I haven’t come across any research that shows that the existence and quality of face-to-face conversations is actually threatened by (increasing) digital conversations. In other words, that we would be dealing with a digital zero-sum game and that everything was better back in the day. Misplaced moral highground Research does show that someone who has much more app contact on a given day has less need for face-to-face contact. That’s to be expected. But from a normative point of view nothing follows from this, unless we assume that app contact would be less valuable. But that was exactly the question. Moreover, it appears that people who have always texted a lot, have no fewer face-to-face conversations. Other research emphasizes that online contact is mainly different, not necessarily less valuable. A whopping 51 percent of teens prefer digital conversations, researchers found, which is a lot. But the app skeptic doesn’t score points here either, because a) those teens are still just having face-to-face conversations, and b) they might be having digital conversations in ways that are actually as good as or even more refreshing than our quasi-digibetic digital conversations. In any case, 43 percent of 18–24 year olds say they find texting just as meaningful as a real conversation. Who are we to take the moral highground and say that entire generations are wrong? That their lives are not really enriched by all that apping, even if they say they are? We may be missing a whole dimension of digital-social richness. Let’s also not forget that the average middle-aged whatsapper will not get as much out of his or her app conversations as the average teenager, and that the latter has a lot more digital-social skills in her toolbox than giving one’s thumbs up (though I should mention, in defence of my dad, that I suspect few boomers occasionally send bitmoji’s of themselves around, as my father does). Social glue Apps are of vital social importance. Not only because we can quickly settle on a time to meet each other in real life, but also because many of us just have real conversations about the app every now and then. Conversations that sometimes, I venture to say, could not even have been had in the old-fashioned, so-called real life. Personally, I can sometimes be more open about the app than I dare to be in real life. This is because I can think for a long time about my answer and also allow the other person to do the same. It’s because I simply want, and can, speak to some people very often, if only very briefly. It’s because I also want to be able to discuss many small day-to-day stumbles and victories, instead of having the (often rather unsatisfactory) lengthy “update” conversations when you haven’t seen good friends for a long time. Sometimes you just want to know what kind of little idiotic thingsomeone has been through. Sometimes you want to send a picture of a wall full of postcards of beautifully drawn plants, and then text someone you love: ‘what do you think when you see this?’ and that your plant-loving friend texts back: ‘Do you have my address?’ That’s friendship, and digital communication helps. Small, frequent communication is, or has become, crucial for social relationships. If I were to generalize, I would say that volatile, light-hearted app conversations — supported by modern, and yes, late-capitalist technology — have deepened and enriched many family connections, friendships, and relationships. In addition, it should also not be underestimated that for many people (especially those who have the pleasure and displeasure of being in family appgroups), apping provides a very welcome, if not necessary, social glue. When tension and emotions arise, as they do in families, real conversations sometimes fail, where digital communication is still, if only barely, possible. We should not have too much small talk, but sometimes we need digital smalltalk ni order to be able to have real life big talks. It is precisely here that unintentional intonations and cold body postures can also be problematic. Sometimes I’m actually glad someone can’t see that I’m clenching my teeth. In real life, someone would have been startled by my protesting body language already. So, real life communication is not always the solution, but sometimes the problem. Endless love conversations Finally, let’s not forget that apping is literally limitless. How valuable it is — especially in times of corona — to be able to have conversations with people further away, without having to get into your polluting car; to read books over a video call with your nephews, nieces or grandchildren if you are not yet fully vaccinated. And I haven’t even mentioned the endless love conversations on Tinder or texting with school friends from long ago, let alone menton the value of apping for people with mental or physical limitations and challenges, for whom digital communication can be a great relief, if not to say one of the few possibilities for meaningful social contact. Does apping sometimes fall short? Are some things better not discussed on the app? Isn’t it sometimes too superficial? Aren’t all those notifications often disruptive? Doesn’t apping sometimes lead to loneliness? Should we use ignal rather than Whatsapp? Of course. But to conclude from this that we have somehow forgotten how to have real conversations, that only people behind geraniums really talk to each other, including the suggestion that no real conversations or friendships can exist in the digital domain, is a bridge too far. Dad, will you give me a thumbs up if I throw this link in our appgroup? This essay was published in the Dutch newspaper NRC, 28th of August 2021. https://www.nrc.nl/nieuws/2021/08/27/appen-is-van-wezenlijk-sociaal-belang-a4056311Photo: : camilo jimenez via Unsplash.