As digital natives, our adaptability to change is far superior than generations past. We swiftly adapt from VHS to DVDs and record players to cassettes to CDs and MP3s. We know what a floppy disk is yet can operate our digital lifestyle almost exclusively on Cloud. Our potential is limitless and our ambition is uncapped. We are pretty brilliant.
While trolling parents might be concerned, marketers shouldn't be surprised by the drop in teen Facebook usage. After all, target audience behaviour is never set in stone. It's not the consumer's job to remain loyal, it's the business' job to keep up.
Recently, I spent a glum and rainy afternoon scrolling through a couple dozen YouTube testimonials from bullied and traumatized youths. I found that the narrative tradition these videos most closely resemble is not a literary one at all -- it's the Catholic tradition of confession.
I believe the most crucial thing we need to teach digital natives is how to be alone. Every communication technology -- from papyrus to the printing press to Pinterest -- brought us great gifts; they also led us away from earlier frames of mind. And, in the case of the Internet and smartphones, that may leave us with impoverished interior lives.
Karin and Kathy Kettler, the Canadian throat-singing sisters who together are known as Nukariik, carry on the traditions
Given the speed and ubiquity of news and information in our supercharged digital landscape, digital natives appear to have developed consumption habits that match the tempo of this constant stream of content, switching from laptop screen to smartphone screen, from TV screen to Xbox console -- opening up hundreds of tabs in one sitting. But like binge eaters filling an emotional void, are digital natives merely gorging themselves on empty calories?