In terms of the phone zombies, it really bothers me when I see someone walking across a street engrossed in their phone. I always imagine them getting nailed by a car or cyclist b/c they aren't paying attention (and I'm sure, tragically, this has been happening). Same things with runners and their iPods prior to iPhones. Your ears and eyes are there for a reason.
Sidenote: Maybe the most interesting part of the NYT article is the first line "Last weekend, I was watching television with a few friends, browsing the week’s most popular YouTube videos, when a piece in the comedy section called “I Forgot My Phone” caught my eye." This goes beyond the meat of the piece but it's so interesting to see that that's a current browsing behavior that's possibly common enough to mentioned.
Using our smartphones when we're in the presence of friends/family is one thing. But using it during times of inactivity, to me is harmless.
Maybe. Another theory might be that our brains need more downtime than we are giving them. Or maybe we are filling our brains with so much useless knowledge that it is stopping us from remembering important things. Or maybe that time of staring out the window would've made me think of the next great thing.
That's what I worry about anyway when I whip my smartphone out all day.
Until the definition of "inactivity" starts to creep, wider and wider. I've noticed that with myself and people I know, that's for sure.
Stealing a bit from the video itself - you're bowling and everyone disappears into smartphone-land while waiting their turn. I've seen this actually happen IRL, so it's far from a farfetched hypothetical. In the old days you used to use this time to, god forbid, talk to someone and make a friend.
Or you're at a party where you don't know enough people. Pre-smartphone you'd get sick of being a wallflower and some point, go "fuck it", and introduce yourself to somebody. Now you can just slink into smartphone-land. I've done it, I'm sure others here have too.
"Inactivity" is a weird concept. Short of being in a sensory deprivation chamber, there are very few moments in life where you're actually involuntarily inactive.
A few months ago I tossed my earbuds in the trash. I no longer listen to music (or podcasts, or whatever) on the move. I'm more present, less tuned out, and I've learned some things and had some spontaneous interactions that are worth more to me than listening to music I've already heard many times before. I like it. People complained about the reduction in engagement when the iPod rolled around and everyone suddenly had earplugs on full-time. At the time a lot of people thought society would grow out of it and the fad of being disconnected full-time would go away.
It did. We discovered smartphones instead.
The destruction of presence is more than just lack of eye contact. Not so long ago certain people could enter a room and demand attention - they were social beings whose mere presence affected brain waves and nervous systems. Their presence was sharp.
I don't see that anymore. People are dulling. They recede to the safety of a screen because it offers a way of saying - 'I don't need you, cooler things and people are in my phone'. We're in a perpetual standoff.
The problem with a free market is that consumers do not always know what is best for them. Local maxima rule the day. We need narrative, insight, and leadership to provide the activation energy to get ourselves out of the social wasteland we have created.
I draw a lot, so I spend a lot of time just looking around -- and I've noticed the same thing: many people are too wrapped up in their smart phones to notice what's going on around them.
I've been thinking a lot about it lately, and this is one of those "things I think are true but can not prove" kind-of-things, but I think the larger lesson is that most people, most of the time, are largely driven by their thoughts. Not what's going on around them, or what their body is telling them, but what they think about.
A few months ago I was sitting in a crowded urban park. I was people watching for a bit; no book, no phone. I saw some sort of surveillance/tracking operation unfold in plain site. A fit, ex-military looking guy in his mid 40s dressed to look like a tourist in a t-shirt and shorts took a seat. He would steal glances off to the side at a certain individual. He talked into his blue tooth ear piece, casually glanced around, and then he took off his blue baseball cap, put it in his backpack, and quickly replaced it with a red baseball cap. He later shot me a little grin, having seen me noticing him, even though I was discrete and over 30 meters away.
Over 100 people could have seen this unfold but I am sure none did because literally most of them were looking at phones.
There are all sorts of interesting vignettes going on in crowded places that almost nobody sees. I have other memorable observations.
My advice to security firms and the FBI tailing targets: fit people over 35 stand out in America at this point.