Flowing into China, three groups of fiber-optic cables bring Internet data from virtually the whole world. Thanks to these cables, many Chinese people have access to much of the same material that computer-literate Americans take for granted.

However, at each site the Chinese government has ordered the installation of tiny mirrors, enabling officials to monitor material they find suspicious or politically questionable. Unwanted data can be blocked, and the regime can protect itself against what it regards as subversive ideas or undesirable change.

Yet, at the same time, the government allows another computer link with the outside world to operate without interference. Were not such an open source available, both foreign and domestic businesses would be seriously hampered.

Why, then, do the Chinese people not avail themselves of this channel outside the bounds of censorship? Because they would have to go to a lot of expense and bother to get on that link. The great bulk of computer users will be satisfied with the three main lines even if they know them to be tracked by their national government.

In presenting the above facts I have drawn upon an article written by James Fallows in the current issue of The Atlantic. Fallows, one of America’s best journalists, has been living in Shanghai for the past two years and now knows China well.

While reading about China and the Internet, I was fascinated with the technology that makes the system work. For me, the inner workings of the largest nation on earth continue to be awe-inspiring. Americans can expect to hear further details of such matters when the Olympics open next August in Beijing.

Many people would immediately associate this sense of wonder with youth. Children are supposed to be wide-eyed when they discover the marvels of nature. And students in high-quality high schools and colleges are expected by their mentors to cultivate this approach to their studies.

In practice, however, many young people seem to feel little awe when confronted with science, history, literature, psychology and other fields of study. They often appear to accept what they learn without notable enthusiasm. As a person who talks with students habitually, I always feel disappointed when they show no signs of excitement about learning.

So much for the younger generation. Underrated, in my book, is what a sense of wonder does to enhance later life.

Many of my age peers have discovered or rediscovered late in life the joy of learning and the sense of wonder that ideally accompanies it. Among many others, my friend Hilma Unterberger feels both this joy and wonder.

As a resident of Lasell Village, a retirement residence in Newton that requires everyone to take courses, she loves her studies. This semester Hilma especially relishes what she has been learning about the history of jazz.

Of the learning community where she lives she says, “This place is incredible.” Asked if study like hers extends longevity, Hilma does not hesitate: “No question.”  

Thinking about wonder, I keep going back in memory to the day I acquired my first computer, a Commodore 64 that operated through the flickering screen of our late-1970s television set. The moral of that day for me was: “I shall never be bored again.”

This prediction still holds true. The computer, in its present form incredibly much more high-powered than that Commodore, gives me daily stimulation. And that’s without my ever having used it to play games.

In the 1970’s, at our local Council on Aging, I initiated learning sessions with computers for people whom I served. The men and women who took part in that project experienced some of the wonder that even a little computer literacy could stir up. Presumably it gave them motivation in later years for tapping into sources of knowledge of a world larger than they had previously known.

Opening our inner selves to a sense of wonder qualifies as one way to expand what are sometimes the narrow confines of later life.

This openness can counteract the emptiness frequently felt by those of us whose personal contacts have diminished with the passing of years. Wonder at the world can boost the morale of us who may be less involved in daily activities than we used to be.

Though I have focused on computer technology here, I mean to include other areas that can excite wonder. The arts, for example, are so vibrant currently that they can stretch your imagination easily. Newspapers now often carry fabulous reproductions of great paintings and sculptures. And one can find favorite music much more easily than in the past.

In most of my age peers, I like to think, the sense of wonder has not died. However, it may have become less sharp than formerly. Allowing ourselves to be stirred to amazement at the world around us can do much to enrich the days of our lives and perhaps extend them as well.

Richard Griffin