Maybe it’s time we brought more etiquette to the modern world. Photo: Light Field Studios.
No matter what, I keep falling for it. People who I think are talking to me.
It happens in the office, in the street, in stores, on the bus, anywhere.
There may not be a soul nearby, but there they go, chattering away into the ether.
What’s that, I say, only to have them shake their head, their eyes betraying annoyance or exasperation at the interruption, but pressing on regardless, talking to themselves.
But, of course, they’re not, are they? Although there are the odd, literally, few who do, and who’s to know now when you encounter them.
In the former situation, if you look closely enough, you can notice the tell-tale bit of plastic in their ears, alerting you that they are geared up for a hands-free chat. This is thanks to miniaturisation and the wonders of Bluetooth and Wi-Fi, an Australian bit of tech that has revolutionised communications.
The first time I saw a Bluetooth device in a colleague’s ear, I couldn’t help but think of Star Trek’s Spock and wonder if there might be something wrong with that ear.
It was weird when he started talking to nobody in particular, and even though an age has passed since then, I still find it unnerving to see people in a world of their own, conversing with who knows who.
Far be it from me to question the progress of technology, even when AI might see a lot of us out of a job, but the question really is, do I want to hear these one-sided conversations everywhere I go, even when out for a quiet walk?
It was bad enough when there was just a phone. Of course, I am as guilty as anyone, but at least the fact of not being hands-free seemed to limit the length of calls for logistical reasons and, depending on where you were, etiquette—an old-fashioned word that encapsulates so much about what a civil world should be.
Alas, something happens when those tiny devices are fired up: they deliver such convenience but also change the way the brain functions, allowing human beings to be in two places at once—the physical space and cyberspace where their conversations exist.
In the latest Bridget Jones movie (not recommended), there is a character wearing earbuds who is never really present despite being ostensibly in a group and at events.
His jarring comments are constantly mistaken by those around as being part of the general conversation or directed at them. It’s a running joke that finally culminates in his exasperated wife telling him to switch the bloody thing off.
Earbuds are so liberating that people become completely mobile, uninhibited, and talk loudly on the move and through whatever they may be doing without a care.
Having enough of them in one place, there is a cacophony of competing one-sided conversations for those unfortunate to be in earshot.
Picture distracted people toing and froing, talking to their invisible friends. It’s almost comical. Until one walks in front of a truck.
These advances are happening so quickly that they are upon us without any social framework to guide us.
What we need is a set of earbud user etiquette guidelines to calm the babble and keep us present. And perhaps an understanding that just because we can talk to anyone, anywhere at anytime, doesn’t mean we necessarily should.
