I’ve been ruminating about…cellphones
So, the word has finally got out. I own a cellphone – again. After three and a half blissful years, I relented eighteen months ago. I went and bought one of the little devils.
My $39 special is nothing flash. There’s not a lot that is particularly “smart” about it. But it is adequate for two tasks – phone calls and texting. Nothing more, nothing less.
If truth be told, I’d prefer it only did the former. It is, after all, called a “cellphone”, not a “celltexter”, “cellcamera” or a “cell-data receiver”.
I do text occasionally. But generally only to reply. In fact, my family know that if they text me, they need to phrase it in question form. I’m happy to answer with an “OK” or “NO”, but that is the limit. Otherwise, I suggest they do something novel – call me.
For eighteen months, the little device in my pocket served a great purpose. It provided cheap and convenient contact with the many people I had to deal with in order to sell our house privately and then project manage our house build. Being so accessible was important and it saved us much time and more than a little money.
However, about two months ago my cellphone went strangely quiet. And I found myself picking it up less and less to call people. With my brief season of selling and building houses now past, I must admit I’ve toyed with the idea of throwing the mobile in the drawer.
However, I honestly don’t know what I’ll do with the darn thing. While I’m well aware I could manage without it, I have to acknowledge there are a few benefits to having one. Like the times I’m scheduled to meet someone somewhere, and plans have to change. Or for the occasional emergency that arises. I confess that having one is definitely convenient.
Nevertheless, I thoroughly enjoyed my cellphone-free years. In a perverse kind of way, I delighted in the look on people’s faces when they asked for my cellphone number and I told them I didn’t own one. Not having one was an inverted social statement – a kind of one-finger salute to the common wisdom that a life without a portable device is not worth living.
However, the main reason for not having one was that it just made my life a little bit simpler, less cluttered. I revelled in the freedom of not being dictated by other people’s requests and schedules – not always being on tap. For someone like me, who feels a strong obligation to be there for others, this was truly liberating.
In spite of what some of my friends and family might have thought, doing without a mobile was not a “never-again” decision, like the irrevocability of getting the snip (okay, even that can be reversed!).
Nor was my season of abstinence meant to infer that everyone else should necessarily follow suit. I was not out to create a new rule any more than my vegetarian friends might expect the whole world to eat meat-free.
And I was definitely not anti-technology, like some kind of modern-day Luddite. If I were, all the other conveniences of twenty-first century life would have had to disappear out the door as well. (Actually, there would have been no house or door left!)
The point is, I’m not anti cellphones any more than I am anti pets. They have their place, and if kept in check they can definitely add value and enjoyment to our lives. But they can just as easily begin to dictate life – to become the masters rather than the servants – subtly determining what we do and when we do it. (Isn’t it strange that others can often see who our real masters are, while we remain blind!)
You see, the issues around cellphones are just a microcosm of the broader challenges of new technologies. It’s very easy to be a little naïve about the tidal wave of state-of-the-art devices that have swamped our lives these past few years. In spite of the hype, technology is not the great saviour it is made out to be. Neither is it neutral.
Each new piece of technology fundamentally changes the way we relate and think. Sometimes this is for good, often it’s for bad. The problem is that invariably, by the time we realize some of the negative consequences of a particular piece of technology, it’s too late and there’s no going back.
So automatically embracing the latest and greatest product, without a discerning and cautious posture, is a recipe for disaster. Yes, God made us in his image, to be creative. And the call to be co-creators with God is a magnificent invitation to innovate. However, that doesn’t mean that it’s healthy for us to embrace every new invention holus bolus. Not every item is necessarily good for us.
As I noted earlier, I honestly don’t know whether I will return to a mobile-free existence. But if I don’t, it may be helpful for me to do without some other piece of technology that threatens to rule my life and undermine my relationships. At least for a time. Which reminds me: Lent is almost upon us. Now there’s a thought!
Afterthought: My pet (cellphone) dislikes
1. People telling me they can never get hold of me. Apart from the hyperbolic language, and the sheer lack of imagination exhibited by the complaint (there are other ways of contacting me), the implicit assumption is that I should be
instantly available to answer their every query. How downright inconsiderate of me! Now I know that I’m supposed to be imitating God – but as far as I’m aware, omnipresence is not part of the brief.
2. Trying to sign up for some service or product and being told you need a cellphone to do so. (Yes, this does happen. I can vouch for that.)
Having a mobile has become the de facto password to getting by in life.
At times I felt just a little bit marginalized because of the Great Assumption (Everybody has a cellphone.)
3. Having coffee or a meal with someone whose phone rings and then having to idle the next few minutes away while they chat away. Most times this happens, my companion just automatically takes the call. Sometimes they ask rhetorically, “You don’t mind if I take this call, do you?” What can I say? It’s an awkward – and frustrating experience. I try to look away and pretend I’m not listening to the one end of the conversation I can’t help hearing. I suddenly feel like an intruder. Then I stare at the wall, search for a paper to read, or try to feign writing some important notes in my imaginary diary. Meanwhile, I’m getting more and more irritated that my companion is not valuing the time I’ve put aside to spend with them.
4. Someone texting while in the midst of a meeting or conversation. Call it what you like – multi-tasking, maximizing time…whatever. It often feels like I’m not worth being fully present with, or that the person has better things to do with their time. When someone is distracted by sending a text in my company, I half-seriously suggest to them that it’s okay – they don’t need to text me, they can just talk to me directly, face-to-face!
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