News Beat
What was it like to live without my mobile for a fortnight?
I wouldn’t say I was in any way addicted to technology – it terrifies me and I hate it – but I know I have to use it. I’ve got two mobile phones, one supplied by my employer, and one my own. I didn’t stop to think how much I relied on, and used, these phones until I no longer had access to them.
A week before Christmas, my work phone wouldn’t turn on and weird tech-speak messages peppered with the word ‘failed’ appeared on the screen in bright orange type. As soon as I saw them I sensed there was no way back.
I’ve never had a phone die on me before – not completely. I’ve always rescued the situation through that age-old trick of turning it off and on. But this time even the marvellous IT department at work knew it was beyond help
At the same time, my own phone lay dormant, awaiting replacement after its network stopped supporting old models. Mine rattled off the production line around the time of the Pharaohs, so had to go.
I was without a phone for around a fortnight. It made me realise how hugely dependent we are on these gadgets – it’s like severing your connection to the outside world.
At work, colleagues now contact each other through WhatsApp group messages. My own family also has a WhatsApp group, set up by one of my daughters, in which we relay many messages to each other. And virtually all my friends contact me this way.
During my phoneless period, my daughter called me one day on the landline. “I wasn’t sure whether this still worked,” she laughed.
In the good old days I wrote my work contacts in a book, listed in alphabetical order. A contacts book – every journalist I knew had one. In recent years, in common with my younger colleagues, I stopped writing them down and instead listed them on my phone. That’s all well and good, until your phone breaks.
Thank goodness for Google Photos, or I’d have been scuppered there too, unable to access any pictures I needed for work that week.
Of course having no phone meant no camera over Christmas, but that’s not too much of a worry as everyone else has one.
Then there are all the occasions I needed to quickly look things up. My daughter wanted a kettle for Christmas – usually I’d check prices on my phone. And I needed to the check opening times of a stately home we hoped to visit on Boxing Day. It’s not that we don’t have other ways of finding out such things, it’s the convenience – it’s all there in your pocket.
I don’t know what I would have done had my phone also been my bank card, as it is for many people. I was in a shop recently and a woman was unable to pay for her shopping due to a problem with her phone. She had to leave her full trolley behind.
Mobiles are also a means of easily keeping in touch with others. When my husband needed to meet me after an appointment, he was unable to let me know when he was on his way and I had to hang around for ages.
Phones give us reassurance. They are like comfort blankets; when out and about without one, especially in the car, it leaves you feeling unsupported.
On balance, having a mobile phone does make life easier, but I also found my phone-free fortnight oddly liberating. We pick up our mobiles dozens of times every day. It’s ridiculous to think how many times I scroll through news websites. Do I really need a blow-by-blow account of what is happening in Caracas? I could easily wait for the TV news.
I also found it easier to go to sleep, having not over-stimulated my brain with poor quality videos of world catastrophes beforehand. I could survive without a phone, as could we all, but sadly it is now a vital part of daily life, and it wouldn’t be easy.
