I’VE spent most of my adult life swimming against the tide, so it won’t surprise you that I don’t share the current obsession with social media.

I have never tweeted; never will. For Ray Mallon, Facebook will remain closed.

Don’t get me wrong. I value new technology and know that it has transformed the lives of millions, opening up new paths to education, entertainment and friendship.

One of the biggest challenges facing public authorities will be how they use new technologies to provide services at a time of unparalleled financial pressure and public demand. Whether it’s telecare to provide support and reassurance for older and disabled people in their own homes or virtual hubs where people access advice and services online, we have to take advantage of every opportunity technology gives us.

But the pace of change must be determined by mankind, not by machines. People value the human touch, face-to-face contact. You can’t change that overnight. Any system that denies choice will have no credibility.

The pace of change must be realistic, too.

In its benefit reforms, the Government is working on the basis that 80 per cent of transactions will be done online.

Given that the Government has a shocking record in handling new technologies and that the people using the new systems have the least experience and worst access to computers, this is a recipe for meltdown. A meltdown with massive financial and human costs – and it is only a few months away.

Millions will no doubt tweet their outrage, but find their voices drowned in the pointless babble that passes for debate and discourse.

The words “pointless babble” were in fact how a 2009 study of more than 100,000 tweets described 40 per cent of their content. I think they were being generous.

To me, tweets are about people trying to live every moment of their lives in public, an attempt to elevate the million and one thoughts, feelings and reactions we experience every day into something more significant than they really are.

The facility to react instantly has replaced the ability to react sensibly.

The sight of MPs – and yes, some councillors – tweeting when they should be listening, strikes me as the ultimate in arrogance – do they seriously think we can’t wait a couple of hours to hear what they think.

It is not just silly, it’s dangerous, too. The twitter casualty list, people who have broadcast speculation and innuendo and paid dearly for it, is growing.

A few years back if you wanted to let off steam about something, you wrote a letter.

That meant finding a pen, paper and envelope and sitting down and writing the thing.

Then you had to post it. But by then had probably decided it wasn’t worth the candle.

Now, you can despatch your 140-character torpedo in seconds while the red mist is still swirling; and you probably get the writ or solicitor’s letter just as quickly.

It sounds old-fashioned but you shouldn’t commit to paper – or the computer screen – anything you wouldn’t say to someone’s face.

Would our public life be any poorer? Probably not, but the lawyers certainly would be.

I know this is one tide that won’t turn and maybe the one billion or so Twitter and Facebook users can’t be wrong and I am missing something.

But even that most sophisticated piece of software, the human brain, can suffer from overload, so maybe we should give it and the send button a rest now and again.