From Palantírs to Pixels: Creating a False Sense of Control

While Julia and I mostly travel together, occasionally we have solo adventures. We spent most of September in the US, but Julia stayed in Boston for a few additional days to spend time with friends.

Before I left, Julia asked me to download a location tracking app called Life360. She shared some of her anxieties of being in public alone, and asked me to keep an eye on the app during pre-determined times. We downloaded the app together, registered, and linked our cell phones. Julia and I then walked to the Harvard Square T station, and I took the train to the airport.

Midway through my journey, Julia sent me a text to check the app. I promptly launched Life360, and within 15 seconds, a map of Harvard Square materialized on my screen, featuring a blue circle marked with a J at its center. It was evident that she was still really close to the train station, even though her lodgings were situated a mile and a half north.

My breathing intensified. “Why is Julia still in Harvard Square? Oh my God, something bad happened to her!” I thought to myself, fearing that the same problems Julia had encountered were happening again.

I took a few deep breaths. I reminded myself that Julia was likely at the CVS around the corner. I closed the app and switched over to a daily game of Sudoku.

Ten minutes later, finished with my game and stuck in Boston traffic, I curiously reopened Life360.

Julia was still really close to the train station and not moving.

The internal conspiracy theories began. I searched closer, noticing that her dot had moved half an inch on my phone. Recalling her desire to eat at a specific restaurant in Harvard Square, I took a few deep breaths to calm myself and regain control over my cardiovascular system.

Out of my own self-preservation, I did not open the app for the rest of the week.

Trust vs. Tracking

I’m in the early stages of writing a book that explores how PTSD affects relationships, focusing on men who are in relationships with women coping with PTSD.

PTSD, whether you have it yourself or are partnered to someone with it, simultaneously creates distance AND reinforces the practice of the most toxic of masculine behaviors.

For instance, I have a ton of empathy as to why Julia would want me to download Life360 and keep my eye on her…even if “keeping my eye” on her means tracking her geolocation from across the ocean and calling Boston Police if anything seems fishy. I want to be a good partner, adhere to her requests, and celebrate her individuality and independence.

The Illusion of Control

A quick word about Life360, and other tracking apps. Think of them as akin to the palantírs in the Lord of the Rings. Palantírs are magical orbs used by wizards and dark forces, like Sauron, to glimpse current events and foresee potential future scenarios. However, these glimpses often lead to chaos, destruction, and death.

I’m well-acquainted with how my own anxiety works. If I were to let my anxiety run unchecked, it's like gazing into the palantír, where I'd quickly encounter a distressing vision. I’d drop the palantír before Sauron had the chance to fix his creepy eye on me, and galavant off to the scene of danger.

When faced with moments of danger, whether they are perceived or real (keeping in mind that PTSD can make it hard to distinguish between the two), I tend to react swiftly. I immediately start researching available options and rallying support to aid the person in need. In the case of Julia, she had requested my assistance, but there have been numerous instances in my life where I've intervened without being asked (with poor results).

However, much like the palantír, I often find myself dealing with incomplete information, and my mind tends to fill in the gaps with worst-case scenarios. When I can't identify a potential solution, I'm prone to panic. I'm actively working on reducing the intensity of these behaviors during those critical 20 seconds of panic.

On the flip side, there are individuals who have a different relationship with Life360 and similar tracking devices. They peer into the crystal ball of the present and immediate future, seeing visions of loss, betrayal, or even apocalyptic scenarios. In response, rather than freezing in fear, like poor Pippin, they repeatedly consult the crystal ball, seeking various ways to exert control over and restrict their partners as a means of managing their own deeply rooted anxieties.

These individuals often act on their tendencies to overfunction, leading to potentially harmful consequences in their relationships, rather than acknowledging and addressing their own experiences and the resulting trauma.

Empowering Trust and Independence

Anxiety’s job is to keep us alive, often through a combination of pessimism and relational mistrust. It is not, however, an accurate reflection of reality.

Life360 and similar tracking apps (and the palantír, for that matter) offer a false illusion of control by suggesting that removing uncertainties regarding another person's whereabouts or activities can effectively control anxiety.

Managing anxiety becomes especially challenging in relationships with individuals who have endured particularly violent or traumatic experiences. Failing to address this anxiety can result in significant adverse effects on both individuals and their relationships, as evidenced by survivors of intimate partner violence, high-control religious environments, and other controlling systems.

For today, if you want to be tracked, or if your partner asks you to track them, have some discussions about when the app should and shouldn't be used, and make adjustments to the app's settings accordingly.  Otherwise, I encourage you to delete your tracking apps.

Let’s heal together!