THEY used to say that television killed the art of conversation. Now, I’m not so sure. The box is responsible for many evils, but this one may be a wrongful conviction.
There’s a quiet and more cunning killer on the loose.
To illustrate what I mean, I’ll set a little test. When was the last time you saw someone using a mobile phone to talk to someone?
The image of the loud-mouthed bore holding forth on the bus or railway carriage and provoking the fury of fellow travellers used to be a familiar one. But now, the mobile phone user is more likely to sit head-bowed and silent as their fingers flick across the key pad, doing… well, I’m never quite sure what.
The other day I was sitting in a cafe and a family of four came in. In a matter of seconds, they were off on the phones, each in their own little world. An even gloomier sight – and we’ve all seen it – is when a couple ditch the conversation and resort to the phone.
Now you don’t have to be talking ten to the dozen all day to your nearest and dearest for a happy relationship, but there’s something sad and sterile about people burying their nose in a mobile. It’s like hanging a “Do Not Disturb” sign round your neck.
Maybe I’m missing something. I’ve said before that there are elements of social – or maybe it should be anti-social – media that remain a closed book to me. I’ll text when necessary, but when I die, the words “he never tweeted” can go on my gravestone.
I’m appalled by the sight of MPs messaging when they should be listening and when I see people up to the same thing in the council chamber, some very uncharitable thoughts run through my head.
It’s the usual story of gadgets mastering humans and encouraging us to live life at a pace that was never intended.
I know technology has improved people’s lives, liberated people even.
But were we so disadvantaged when we had to wait to go home or to the office to phone someone?
It’s good to have knowledge at your fingertips, but can it beat the satisfaction and excitement of looking something up in a book?
Because when you did that, you invariably discovered something else too.
How we lived and learned may not have been terribly efficient, but we got by. We took the scenic route in life. Now we’re intent from getting from A to B as quickly as possible. It’s business-class existence and the scenery isn’t half as nice.
WITH that off my chest, a far more serious observation.
The other week I took a wrong turning at a very large hospital and ended up giving myself a guided tour of the premises and grounds before getting out.
I was struck, appalled in fact, by the number of people I saw smoking, visitors and patients alike, getting out of their cars, going through the grounds and in shelters that have had to be provided for them.
Hospitals are the last place anyone should be smoking and, sadly, for a lot of people they are.
I know that smoking is cruelly addictive.
People who need nicotine deserve sympathy and support, but to put it bluntly, they also need to be reminded that society has no obligation to make it easy for them to destroy their wellbeing.
Every smoker admitted to hospital should be offered immediate and sustained support to quit.
But it is surely time now to make all hospital sites entirely smoke-free.
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