The Introvert Advantage:
How to Thrive in an Extrovert World
by Marti Olsen Laney, Psy. D.
There is a scene in the book Henry and the Great Society where Henry freaks out concerning the installation of a telephone. Henry, for those of you who haven’t read the book, is living on the brink of Industrialism. He himself is a traditional agrarian, watching all of the world about him transform into a New Economy. His wife and children swallow the new culture with its new indulgences whole, leaving him essentially alone, both physically {due to the invention of the car} and relationally {because they fail to really understand how hard the transition of the entire world weighs upon him}.
So, as I was saying, Henry is troubled by the telephone. He realizes its magnitude in a way few of us do: anyone, anywhere, with a phone has access to his house–even people he doesn’t know and would never invite inside. The idea that millions of people have the potential to invade his home and interrupt his meals, to force themselves upon his solitude, troubles him to no end.
Today, we face even more such intrusions, and yet I still believe the phone–in all of its forms, such as cellular phones, satellite phones, and my personal favorite, landline phones–is perhaps the most potent. After all, the computer can be turned off and email ignored. Likewise, the television does not turn itself on and demand our attention.
But the phone? The phone is altogether different. It is one of the only technologies I can think of which forces itself upon us. It rings, demanding our attention. It has no regard for the fact that one of your children just fell down and is in tears, or you are in the middle of a lesson and someone just had a light bulb turn on in their head, or your hands are covered in raw chicken residue. The word “call” is an appropriate term, for the phone indeed calls us out of our lives. It beckons, and it has trained us to respond quickly to its demands.
Today, during morning lessons, my phone rang four separate times. Once, a debt collection service called our number because we are fortunate to have someone using our phone number when they apply for debts they never intend to repay. Next, we had a doctor’s office call to confirm an appointment for tomorrow. And then we had two hang-ups.
This is typical.
With the invention of the car phone, which eventually became the cellular phone, the phone became capable of actually following us out of the house. Now, it didn’t just interrupt our home life; it interrupted our drives and later all of life. I do not have a cellular phone because I do not want others to have that sort of access to me. There is no increase in virtue resulting from having constant technological noise surrounding us. Who can complete a thought, who can build a meaningful relationship with their child, when every single time something important is about to happen, the phone beckons once more with its siren song, promising something urgent and important on the other end?
How I wish that Dr. Laney had attempted to broach the topic of the impact of technology upon introverts. My guess is that it is technology, more than anything else, which has so many of us running for cover.
I am reminded of a line from How the Grinch Stole Christmas! Oh, the noise, noise, noise, NOISE! Dr. Laney explains that introverts are energized by thought and solitude, but never questions their relationship to television shows, social media, or the internet in general. Could the “relational energy” of a very extreme introvert be used up by watching a sitcom or a drama? Could it be that it is to the detriment of our families some of us hop on Facebook and open the tap, letting our energy spill out in the most frivolous places?
I do not claim to know, and my hunch is that it is probably different for each person. However, I wish that Dr. Laney had asked the question and investigated to see if there was any research upon the subject. She mentions popular culture several times, but only in the sense in which one would identify it or take for granted that one exists within its flow, rather than in the sense of questioning its contribution to the dis-ease often suffered by introverts.
I would also be interested to know if such technologies, specifically texting and cell phones, overstimulate extroverts, but that would be well outside the scope of a book on introverts, I know.
Dr. Laney did briefly mention the phone. She discusses something she calls “phone phobia,” and she explains:
Here’s how most introverts view the phone: It’s an interruption that drains energy and requires losing internal focus, which you have to gain again; it requires expending energy for “on-the-feet-thinking”…
Homeschooling adds another layer to this, because even if the mother is an extrovert who isn’t the slightest bit rattled by a phone call in the middle of lessons, her children may not be able to recover as swiftly as she, if at all. And at the end of the day, extrovert or no, continuing a thought to its end is an undervalued act in our culture and should be treasured by the monasteries of home learning.
Dr. Laney gives permission for something all of us should do at least some of the time: let the phone ring. Let the caller leave a message. Screen your calls using an answering machine, even, and “don’t let people make you feel guilty for not picking up the phone.”
Reading history can help us gain some perspective. Throughout all of history, the world beyond the walls of home did not have unlimited access to the inside whenever it liked. Dr. Laney mentions that she once found a calling card belonging to her grandmother’s era which stated:
I Will Be Receiving from 2 to 4 on Sunday Afternoon.
Do you see the difference? Perhaps once weekly, the home opened its doors to the outer world and invited it in. Throughout the week, women and families would call upon each other whenever a house was open for receiving. But today, the existence of cell phones and home phones is as if we’ve held out a calling card which reads:
I Will Be Receiving at All Hours, Day and Night, Forever.
When we hold technology up to the light of history, it is easier to throw off its nonsensical demands. The phone was invented and put into our homes for convenience, not to dominate our lives. Carrying them in our pockets is a sure sign that Neil Postman’s technopoly is alive and well.
The Mercy of God
There have been times where modern life has felt absolutely crushing to me. The demand for attention is oppressive. Everywhere, something in the landscape screams to passersby, “Look at me! Buy me! Covet me! Think about me! Me! Me! Me!” Where are we to hide from this culture? The introvert is, perhaps, the likeliest victim of modernity, in the same way that perhaps an extrovert would suffer if condemned to life in a convent, complete with a vow of silence.
Even though last week I made the case that introverts can be well-spoken, too, and perhaps a little rhetoric training is in order, this doesn’t mean that the introvert {or anyone for that matter} is obligated to walk in lock-step with popular culture.
I am reminded of this verse:
A bruised reed He will not break
And a dimly burning wick He will not extinguish…
God has a strong right arm, yes, but He is also tender and merciful. He is a refuge in the chaos. His burden is light, and even at that He gives us the strength we’ll need to carry it.
God does not demand that we keep up with the racing world. He doesn’t demand that we utilize every new technology debuted on Main Street. He only asks us to follow Him and fulfill the purposes to which He has called His people: to love one another, make disciples of the nations, to do good works, to glorify our Father in heaven.
We all need rest. The only true rest is in Him.
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