There was once a peculiar time when you could buy something, visit somewhere, eat dinner or turn on a light without creating an account first.
Wild.
No QR code.
No verification email.
No download our app for the full experience.
We simply... proceeded.
We Memorised Phone Numbers
Not just our own.
Our friends’. Our grandparents’. The takeaway place.
Entire strings of numbers lived inside our heads rent-free.
Now if my phone disappeared, I could probably contact approximately three people, and one of them is 911.
We Knocked on Doors
You wanted to see your friend?
You walked to their house and knocked.
No:
“Hey, are you home?”
“Yeah.”
“Can I come over?”
“Sure.”
“Okay, leaving now.”
“K.”
You simply appeared.
Completely unannounced.
Like a tiny neighbourhood ambassador.
We Got Lost & We Navigated !
There was no calm electronic woman announcing:
“Recalculating.”
You missed the turn and that was now part of your afternoon.
You unfolded a giant paper map across the dashboard, asked someone at a petrol station or drove around until something looked familiar.
And somehow, eventually, we arrived.
Mostly.
We Waited for Things
Photos had to be developed.
A song had to come on the radio.
Your favourite programme aired at a specific time.
Someone wasn't answering the phone because they simply weren't home.
There was a strange little space between wanting something and getting it.
We called it waiting.
Apparently we've discontinued that.
We Were Unreachable
This might be the strangest one.
You could leave the house and nobody knew exactly where you were.
And nobody found this particularly alarming.
There were entire portions of the day when another human being simply couldn't contact you.
No read receipts.
No location sharing.
No little green dot announcing your presence.
You were just... out.
We Owned Things Without Creating Accounts for Them
You bought a lamp.
The lamp's onboarding process was:
plug in lamp.
Your toothbrush didn't collect data.
Your television didn't need your email address.
Your refrigerator had absolutely no opinion about your shopping habits.
And your doorbell had one job.
Ding-dong.
Beautifully focused technology.
Technology Is Brilliant, Obviously
We can speak to someone across the planet instantly.
Learn almost anything.
Navigate unfamiliar cities.
Work from home.
Carry thousands of books and songs in our pockets.
Order dinner without putting trousers on.
I'm not giving that up.
But perhaps every tiny interaction in life doesn't need another login, notification, subscription and cheerful little pop-up asking:
Would you like to enable notifications?
No.
I wanted to park my car.
Maybe We Keep a Few Things Simple
Use the brilliant technology.
Enjoy the convenience.
But occasionally...
Leave your phone inside.
Knock on someone's door.
Read a paper book.
Write something by hand.
Ask a human for directions.
Sit somewhere without documenting that you sat there.
And perhaps buy one household object that doesn't require a firmware update.
Because sometimes progress is wonderful.
And sometimes you just want the bloody lamp to turn on. 💡🌿
