For the first time in eight years, I don’t have a cellphone. The day I handed in my Blackberry was extremely liberating – I placed it into a cabinet at about 11 pm my last day of work, locked the cabinet, and almost immediately forgot about it. In the days that followed, I didn’t even have those involuntary phantom blackberry movements – the mindless reaching into my bag or to the table where I usually kept it to check for messages.
Now, not having a cell phone makes me almost invisible. “Where can I reach you?” – well, through email, or, my partner’s phone. The phone at the chalet can work too, but there is no answering machine.
Last night I was watching an episode of the Sopranos. It’s the one where Vito, a trusted “big earning” captain of Tony’s flees New Jersey, because he’s been dragged out of the closet. As he leaves, he is driving fast and and furious down a rainy dark road (the mob apparently really doesn’t like gay people) – and his cellphone rings. He sees on the display that it’s one of his colleagues. He panics, and throws the phone out the window onto the side of the road.
The next morning, Tony tries to call him. A guy on a road crew hears the phone and picks it up. Tony is rude to him. The guy, annoyed, says “just a minute,” and throws the phone under the heavy wheel of a paving machine. Go to black. Essentially, without a trace of his phone, Vito has now really disappeared.
Your cell phone, and your cell phone number, are now essentially part of your identity. This week’s Economist includes a special report on “nomads“. It walks through the way in which cell phones – and more than cell phones – “smart phones” , IPODS and Blackberries make it possible for people to work anywhere. You don’t need a desk, you don’t need any paper, you don’t even really need a computer. All you need is a wifi connections and a souped-up cellphone, and you’re working. This is changing our lives.
The introduction of the piece reads: “A modern nomad is as likely to be a teenager in Oslo, Tokyo or suburban America as a jet-setting chief executive. He or she may never have left his or her city, stepped into an aeroplane or changed address. Indeed, how far he moves is completely irrelevant. Even if an urban nomad confines himself to a small perimeter, he nonetheless has a new and surprisingly different relationship to time, to place and to other people. “Permanent connectivity, not motion, is the critical thing.”
Whether this is ultimately a good or bad thing, it’s happening all over the world.
But there are still about 3 billion people without cell phones. An exciting piece in the NY Times magazine today describes the way this is changing, and the way this is a good thing.
The piece, written by Sara Corbett, describes the work of a guy called Jan Chipchase. His job is to travel to poor areas for Nokia, and study the ways people communicate. He talks to market vendors, families, workmen, and farmers about how cell phones have changed their lives. And he asks them how the phones could be better. For example, people need phones better designed to withstand monsoon rains- maybe they should float, and, maybe they should have a small handle on them so they can be hung up on the wall, safe from the rainwater that washes into people’s homes.
Studies have shown that when people who are poor have cell phones, their incomes rise. The NY Times piece cites many examples. People have access to more information about markets prices. Through simple ingenuity, people can transfer money to their families. And of course, they can call the doctor to find out if she is in, before they make the three hour trek with their sick baby. The doctor can in turn call a specialist to help make a diagnosis. I have seen in my work instances where cell phones and sms’ became THE way the public health system quickly spread correct information about avian influenza and water safety. Public health has not tapped into the potential of this nearly enough.
Arguably, Jan Chipchase is ultimately helping Nokia to massively increase its market. But if that leads to cheaper cellphones, cellphones that don’t require traditional electricity to recharge, cellphones that people who are illiterate can use – I truly think that is more than ok.
So what do we think of a world of six billion cellphones?
The question reminds me of a trek I took in Nepal about 14 years ago. The first stages of the trek were underdeveloped and the people very poor. We saw “real” communities, ate very basic food, and walked on traditional footpaths that had been used for centuries. The second half of the trek was much more developed and accessible. It was known as the “apple pie” trek because the proprietors of the guest houses knew how to cater to western backpackers. On this side, a road was being built. I was upset about this, because I thought it would “spoil” the nature, and people’s culture. I just couldn’t picture cars in these beautiful places.
But one guy set me right. “If my aunt is sick, and needs to get to hospital, we will get her there much faster by car on the road.”
No doubt those Nepalese communities now have their road. And, they probably have cellphones too. That way, backpackers can call ahead to book rooms (and a slice of apple pie). And, the families can call the doctor first, and maybe get some health advice for the aunt before they even jump in their cars.
