Sunday, September 29, 2013

October is "My Phone is Just a Phone" Month

Imagine for a moment that you woke up today to discover that all of the smart phones on the planet had suddenly and permanently stopped working. We still had (ordinary, not-smart) phones and computers and televisions and portable music devices and portable gaming devices and calculators and flashlights and wallets and maps and books and newspapers...just no more all-in-one smart phones.

Now ask yourself what would be wrong with that.

(I'll give you a moment for quiet contemplation - "the Girl from Ipanema" playing in the background while you think...)
Tall and tan and young and lovely, the girl from Ipanema goes walking
And when she passes, each one she passes goes - ah
When she walks, she's like a samba that swings so cool and sways so gentle
That when she passes, each one she passes goes - ooh
(Ooh) But I watch her so sadly, how can I tell her I love her
Yes I would give my heart gladly,
But each day, when she walks to the sea
She looks straight ahead, not at me
Tall, and tan, and young, and lovely, the girl from Ipanema goes walking
And when she passes, I smile - but she doesn't see (doesn't see)
(She just doesn't see, she never sees me...) 
OK. What did you come up with? Me...I'm having trouble seeing how my world would be worse without smart phones. A little less convenient, yes. But worse?

Now, how would my world be better?
  • Drivers would once again be focused on driving their cars, and they'd be fully attuned to their surroundings.
  • Pedestrians would once again walk down the street with their eyes looking forward.
  • Restaurants would once again be the scene of many happy people enjoying each other's company, talking, laughing, and looking at each other.
  • People wouldn't be equipped to play photo journalist, expert commentator, or celebrity unless they'd earned the right to do so.
And how would I be better?
  • When out for a walk, or at a movie, or relaxing in front of the TV, my phone might not be in my hand quietly whispering "play with me".
  • When my young daughter asks me a question, like "why is grass green?" I would be forced to be a Dad and a human being - giving her an answer based on what I know or don't know - rather than being a clerk who is really good at looking things up.
  • When a precious moment happens, I might commit it to memory instead of digitizing it and instantly sending it out for public consumption.
On our recent trip to Mexico, we all left our phones at home (metaphorically, not actually). My wife carried a camera. That was it. And I can't remember a moment where I regretted it. Even sitting on a 2.5 hour bus ride to Chichen Itza with "nothing to do", we instead sang songs (quietly), drew pictures, read books and played games like "20 Questions" (well, those of us who didn't sleep for 2.5 hours did those things).

Again, I'm only talking about smart phones. Lose them and the world becomes a better place again. They're not guns (or they're not guns yet). They're just devices that we adopted for convenience and coolness, which are having serious consequences - car accidents, tuned-out kids, ruined lives - because we're not using them responsibly, and can't use them responsibly. Too seductive. Too powerful. Too ubiquitous.

I got my phone as a work device, for phone calls and e-mail when I'm working, but not in the office. I'm going to use it for just that for all of October and see what happens.

1 comment:

  1. I think I'll join you - except, I reserve the right to listen to music on it when travelling on transit - because there are still too many people who don't understand the difference between a "public" and "private" conversation, and between a "private" and a "public" tone of voice.

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