Among the many tangible signs of the current collapse of our civilization, the normalization of wearing backpacks in urban settings is not the most publicized. Almost more insidious than the rise of populism or the integration of the phrase "have a nice day" into everyday language, it nonetheless speaks volumes about the excesses of our era.
Let's take things in order. Established as early as the 11th century by the Indigenous peoples of the Arctic, who favored large wicker baskets carried on the shoulders, the concept of the backpack has continuously gained sophistication over the centuries. The first models with leather straps appeared in the 17th century. Three hundred years later, Norwegian inventor Ole F. Bergan, a mountaineer and explorer in his spare time, patented a canvas model. Since then, the backpack has continued to evolve, frenetically in recent years.
Today, it comes in hard-shell versions that securely protect laptops. Some models roll up like kraft paper bags, ensuring perfect waterproofing. Others, equipped with a multitude of strictly defined compartments, promise to hold the contents of a trunk without exceeding cabin size. Others still, perhaps the most terrifying, are equipped with wheels, allowing them to transform into suitcase substitutes.
In a state of chronic ugliness, the backpack thrives on the sad contingencies of our time. The more laptops become widespread in a work world demanding flexibility and mobility, the more indispensable it becomes. The faster our lives accelerate, to the point where the thought of waiting a few minutes to retrieve our suitcase from the baggage carousel chills us to the bone, the more unavoidable it becomes. The more comfort prevails over beauty, the more inevitable it becomes.
For a long time, the backpack was a friend. By freeing the hands, it facilitated sporting adventures and mountain climbs. During childhood, it is still a good playmate, readily becoming the goalpost of an improvised football game. But, in adulthood, what purpose does it serve? To have free hands so they remain shackled to a smartphone or the handlebars of an electric scooter speeding down the highway of despair. "Have a nice day," anyway!
Translation of an original article published in French on lemonde.fr; the publisher may only be liable for the French version.