Earbuds stop us from embracing the here and now

We listen to a lot in a day.

In today’s so-called earbud culture, we have playlists for every routine — getting ready in the morning, working out, driving. We have fresh podcast episodes lined up for transitional times and even a queue of songs just waiting to be played in an instant.

The saying “Headphones in, world out” has taken on a literal meaning in our era of the convenient and the connected. Today, the act of walking and talking simply means people are having phone conversations into their headphone wire. It’s become a rare sight to see people in-transit without headphones covering their ears.

I sometimes feel bad for the music student who plays the Century Tower carillon every 15 minutes because almost all of the students bustling on Turlington Plaza — or anywhere on campus — are plugged into their own little worlds, oblivious to the iconic bells and chimes that sing through campus.

Headphones as an accessory aren’t anything new, and it’s interesting to note how they’ve evolved through the decades. The headphone set has been a staple for citygoers, suburban parents and college students ever since the Sony Walkman — what us millennials would call a plastic-y MP3 player — made its debut in the early ’80s.

As an upgrade to the Walkman, Apple’s introduction of the iPod in 2001 gave rise to earbuds, making it even easier to mix music into our daily activities without the clunk of big, distracting headphones. Today, there’s practically a pair of headphones for every personality type or lifestyle. Bluetooth earbuds were designed with fitness gurus in mind, and Beats by Dre headphones have become a sort of status symbol for music aficionados.

Headphone habits aren’t necessarily all positive or negative, but they tend to say something about our generation, as well as our desire to control our environment and what we hear.

While we can’t always control what happens to us or around us, we can pop in our earbuds for a quick escape to another time and place via our favorite Spotify playlist. By pressing play on a new episode of a podcast we love while we walk to class, we can feel like we’re a part of a conversation without even having to talk.

Recently, podcasts have exploded as a popular medium for news, opinions and entertainment, and radio enthusiasts are likely jumping for joy knowing portable talk shows are, in this more modern, listen-anywhere form, still a valued form of storytelling. According to Forbes, as of last year, at least 112 million Americans have listened to podcasts — a number that rose 11 percent from the year before.

I can’t criticize anyone for spending their commute listening to an uplifting playlist or a podcast that speaks to them, but in this earbud culture, it seems we’re increasingly drawn to the idea of tuning in to something rather than paying attention to who or what’s in front of us.

Perhaps the act of pressing play and having the ability to choose what sounds come through our headphones represent a sense of control we wish we had over other parts of our lives or even the world around us.

This generation is one to preach the importance of living in the moment, but if we can’t even take a few minutes each day to actually listen to who and what’s around us, I don’t think we’re really embracing the here and now.

I can’t help but think that if we’re not willing to listen to the little things, like the chimes of the Century Tower carillon, the scooters zipping around campus and the Krishna lunch tambourines, it’s no wonder we have a hard time listening to other people — including ourselves.

Darcy Schild is a UF journalism junior. Her column focuses on human behavior and sociology.