iPod advertisements would be more accurate if they depicted a solitary figure walking around, hands in pockets and head down.

Throughout the day I see a multitude of students ambling across campus with earphones dangling out of their ears. Like them, music accompanies me to class in the morning. I can control the soundtrack of the moment, and feel rejuvenated by the rhythm and verse. Music is genuinely what keeps me going on particularly difficult days. But this bliss comes at a loss.

Listening to an iPod with headphones disconnects us from our external reality by replacing natural auditory inputs with electronic mesmerizing musical ones. We enter our own world—and it sounds great—but we do it by exiting another one. Wearing headphones around campus discourages other people from talking to you and discourages you from facing them.

What should I do when I’m listening with headphones and I see someone familiar? Should I take my headphones off and risk entering an insincere conversation? Should I take one half off and exchange some brusque prefabricated words? Or should I keep the “do not disturb” warning on my head and carry on?

We are social animals, but at times we desire solitude and escapism: it’s a trade off. Magazines, books, and newspapers have no doubt acted as social barriers in the past. I imagine even the awkward hunter-gatherer had his collection of stones to busy himself with rather than chatting with others.

But iPods represent a much more powerful way to control the social space around you. Put in some headphones and your number of daily interactions is guaranteed to decrease.

The control over our social space that personal music players offer is ultimately restricting. As Paul Auster wrote, “The world is governed by chance. Randomness stalks us every day of our lives.” Once we have the power to shut ourselves off from interactions with others, we are less susceptible to chance encounters.

When I was younger, my mother warned me not to listen to music while walking down the street because I would be oblivious to an unseen danger. If we avoid the discomfort of chance encounters by indulging in the comfort of solace too often, we may diminish the richness of our life by shutting out chance, and in turn we may be unprepared to deal with some of life’s formative difficulties.

College is not comprised of four years of careless hedonism. Whether cursed with eternal schoolwork, athletic and extra-curricular obligations, or plain world-weariness, Bowdoin students have a lot to handle, and music can often make all the difference in handling it. The world feels safe and comfortable with headphones on. However, we should be weary that when we self-medicate, we don’t over-sedate ourselves.

I admit this is a dubious appeal. Calls for moderation are generally ineffectual. I don’t want to restrain my music listening experience, but I also don’t want to detach myself from the rest of the world. The obvious solution is to transform your private music experience into a public one.

Carry your music on your shoulders. Use it to give others the chance to involve themselves in your life. Truly control your social space. The time for boom boxes to return is now. Invade the auditory privacy of others, mercilessly.