To Be or Not to Be Is No Longer the Question
Shakespeare posed that famous question centuries ago, wrestling with existence itself. But today, “to be or not to be” almost feels quaint. We’ve moved past wondering whether life is worth living — now we can’t even agree on what we are. Who we are. What we were created to be.
By Larry G. Patten
TTL Today – Reflect. Think. Live.
Most people don’t realize this: there are two Norths.
One is magnetic. The other is true.
Magnetic North is where your compass points—shaped by the shifting flow of Earth’s molten core. It’s not fixed. It drifts slowly over time. Right now, it’s moving toward Siberia.
True North is different. It never changes. It’s the precise point where the Earth’s axis emerges through the northernmost tip of the globe—the place where all lines of longitude converge. It is constant. Reliable. Anchored.
That difference matters.
Back in the 1980s, I was asked to write a paper for a telecommunications-based organization’s executive team’s retreat. The purpose of the paper was to help bring clarity to the impact the emerging telecommunications/digital age was going to have on the future. Entitled “Survival in the 21st Century,” this paper looked at the effect of the looming technology of computers and telecommunications and how the new digital age might impact our lives in the future.
When I was writing this book, there was no internet, no email, and no steaming video. We were just beginning to have the ability to dial into bulletin boards through our new high-speed 1200 baud modems. Companies like CompuServe, Prodigy, and AOL were our central hubs into which we could “connect”.
“Drifting in Data: How We Lost Ourselves on the Information Superhighway”
By Larry G. Patten
TTL Today – Reflect. Think. Live.
There was a time when information arrived slowly—delivered by a neighbor, spoken in a sermon, or printed once a day. We had time to absorb, reflect, and respond. But that time is gone.
Today, we live in a world where the half-life of information has dropped to near zero. Truth evaporates before it has a chance to root. And all the while, we speed forward—on what we once proudly called the “Information Superhighway.”
But maybe we should ask: where is this road really taking us?
Long before smartphones and 24-hour news, we witnessed the first signs of a shift. In 1952, Richard Nixon, under pressure to step down as Eisenhower’s running mate, turned to the emerging power of television. His now-famous “Checkers Speech” wasn’t just about a dog. It was a calculated, emotional appeal directly to the American people—and perhaps more importantly, to Eisenhower himself. He bypassed journalists, bypassed filters, and rewrote the political rulebook in thirty televised minutes. The media was no longer just the messenger. It had become the battleground.
Then came the McCarthy hearings. Broadcast live in 1954, they transformed political theater into primetime drama. For the first time, Americans didn’t read about power—they watched it. The line between fact and performance began to blur.
And the media took note.
The world has a remarkable way of making space for individuals whose words and deeds reflect a deep understanding of their needs, a clear sense of direction, and unwavering confidence in their chosen path.
