misAdventures of Workmonkey 3.0

The Washington Post recently conducted a social experiment that I found supremely insightful. I've always been fascinated with social experiments. The good ones quickly cut through the thick layers of ignorance we wrap around ourselves on a daily basis, revealing just how blindly we live on a day to day routine, and how little we know about ourselves as humans. In this particular experiment, the Washington Post arranged to have Joshua Bell play the violin for forty minutes during the morning commute at a popular subway station in Washington DC. If you are like me, you had no idea that Joshua Bell is the most talented and famous violinist in the world. You'd also have no idea that the four pieces he played are considered the most difficult and complex in classical music. Further, you'd wouldn't have known that a few days earlier, people paid on average of $100 dollars for a chance to hear him play at the Library of Congress. Over 1000 people walked by during the forty minutes he played. Here's hidden camera footage of how many people stopped to listen:

I find this personally troubling primarily because if I had been there that day, I'm certain I would have been one of the people to just walk by (and I believe you would have too). I know this because I walk by people like this pretty much every single day in the New York Subway. Sometimes I give money, sometimes I don't, but I never actually stop to listen, no matter what is being played, because getting to wherever I'm going is more important than paying attention to the world around me. And because i'm too self-conscious to break from the pack and look different, even if I wanted to stop. I've turned into a drone, which I swore I'd never become. The majority of the people who tried to listen? Little kids. The ones who still were curious about the world. The ones still fascinated with the things we are too busy to notice. I can only pay attention to something if I'm told that I should. If someone gave me a ticket to hear Joshua Bell, I'd probably come back and tell you all how awesome he was. This means the only single reason I would have liked him is because everyone around me liked him, not because I was actually capable of appreciating what he played. The rest of the time, I just keep my head down and close out the world around me, overwhelmed by my daily routine. I'm not saying tomorrow I am going to start paying more attention to the garbage I walk by on the way to the subway. But next time I hear someone playing music, no matter what it is, I'll be damned if I don't stop to actually listen.