Ephemeral Panic, Ephemeral Community

Earlier today, Verizon went down. 

Tens of thousands of users across the country - myself included - were unable to make or receive phone calls. 

Panic ensued. 

Thinking this was an issue specific to my Android phone, I began to frantically scour the internet for answers. 

Google's AI - which is a hit-or-miss - suggested I restart my phone, remove and re-insert my SIM card, and make some tweaks in the settings menu. 

Nothing worked. 

Then I began to wonder: "Maybe there's an outage in the area..." 

That turned out to be the case. 

On PhoneArena, an online tech blog, self-proclaimed "smartphone fanatic" Alan Friedman reported that there were Verizon outages throughout the country: "If you're a Verizon customer and all of a sudden you see the SOS icon on your iPhone, or you can't make or take calls, it is because Verizon is suffering an outage."

From Friedman's article, I was directed to Downdetector, a site that "reports about service issues from around the world."

I quickly learned that I wasn't alone. Within a few hours, well over a hundred messages filled the site's comment section.

"Can't make mobile calls in Western Ma. Data works fine."

"Hitting Michigan too"

"Can't make or receive calls or texts im in Northern Neck of VA"

"Cant make or receive calls in Houston tx but texts work"

I, too, left a comment about Brooklyn's outage. 

For a moment, it kind of felt like we were all in this together. Like a little digital community was starting to build around this shared problem. There was something genuinely fascinating about being instantaneously connected to people around the country, all of whom were in the same metaphorical boat. 

That moment, however, was fleeting.

Just minutes after I left my comment, my connection was restored. 

I promptly called my girlfriend, friends, and parents, assuring them that service was back up and running. 

When I looked back at the Downdetector comment section, I saw that it had quickly dried up. Everyone's service came back, so there was no longer a need to leave a comment with your name and state. 

Kristin from Alabama and Steve from Western Massachusetts had moved on with their lives. 

So long, old friends. 

From this brief, and ultimately trivial, disruption, I extrapolated something that I wanted to share: Community is often ephemeral. That is, when a crisis occurs, our natural reflex is to band together. This is an instinct that is hardwired in us. 

Once, however, the crisis is no more, we also, unfortunately, have a reflex to retreat inward and abandon those with whom we suffered. 

The purpose of community is not temporary expediency; it is long-term trust and reciprocity. 

Now, obviously, there was never a chance to form any kind or enduring ties with these folks on the message board. That would be silly. 

That said, those who commented weren't just looking for answers; they wanted to know that they weren't alone. 

Though fleeting, that nation-wide digital connection was something. 

When more remarkable crises occur - and they always do - let us stay connected with those who helped us get through it. 

-Frank