iPhone
I was reflecting on the anniversary of the iPhone this week as well as comments in the media from those who invented it, who said they were surprised by how much it changed behavior and society. Indeed, to say it was a gamechanger would be an understatement.
Many people consider their mobile device to be an appendage. It’s their connection to the outside world and something that must be with them at all times, or at least, nearby: on a nightstand, table, sofa, or desk. The iPhone has become the way we connect with loved ones, colleagues, and others in our social networks. It’s the vehicle through which we shop, bank, get directions, review daily news, make travel plans, and so much more. It is simply a remarkable device that we cannot imagine doing without — try it for a day, and see how it leaves you feeling…
In my book, Magic in the Mundane, I write about leaving my phone to charge at night on the other side of the room, in the closet, where I can’t see it and the ringer is turned off. That changed when my brother was terminally ill, and we’d get emergency calls at all hours of the day and night. Since then, it has been a hard habit to break.
I had no problem putting my phone away when on vacation, but its overall draw is persistent. Is it in my back pocket? My handbag? Plugged into CarPlay while I’m driving? I thought about this all last week when I read about the iPhone’s inventors and their take on it changing the world, for better and worse.
I think having electronic devices on us or close to us all the time isn’t ideal. I likened it to my son thinking collars on dogs is not natural. He takes our newest member of the family, Benson, camping each summer — they’ve now gone twice — and the first thing that comes off is Benson’s collar. It made me think. Are iPhones our collars? Is the relief that BenBen feels when he’s in the mountains collarless the way I feel when I don’t have the dang phone, either on vacay or stashed away from my nightstand? Can I turn it off during the day and put it away, or is that now just reserved for annual getaways? I hope not. I must do better.
Moons ago, I wrote about technology’s persistent pull. My hypothesis is that it’s a metaphor for telepathy: Our minds can’t yet connect via the ether, but our machines can, so the iPhone is how we stay connected, one sliver of an inch away from “human-to-human WiFi.” I’m not sure that’s natural, but in the meanwhile, I’m going to take the positive of what the iPhone does and see if I can leave its worse aspects behind. That means not taking it out to read something during a restaurant conversation, leaving it on the other side of the room at night, deleting news apps and some of the other things that draw in and suck up our time — the collar we wear day in and day out. There is a lot about the phone I like, but the one thing I loathe is everyone head’s down in public places, engaged with their digital worlds while the real world passes them by.
Happy Anniversary, iPhone!