Life Simplified

          When it comes to novels, the thriller genre is not my favourite: it was on a friend’s recommendation that I have just read one. It was true to type – ‘unputdownable’, with an intricate plot driven by a cast of highly motivated characters – yet my enjoyment was compromised by one, inexplicable flaw. Despite being set in the UK around the year 2000, nobody had a mobile phone – not the spooks nor the ex-military nor the middle-class civilians. Was this plausible? I think not and I suspect that the author deliberately made his task easier by deciding not to factor-in modern telecommunications.

          It is hard to remember what life was like without mobiles, so quickly have we adopted them into everyday use. For example, even the doorbell of our apartment is connected to my mobile, not to a bell, buzzer or a video-entry system. Hence, when I was walking the other day to collect a parcel from the sorting office (it required a signature and I had been out on the day of delivery), my phone rang in my pocket and it was the postman telling me he was at the door with another parcel. He asked me to come down for it but, when I told him I was not in the building, there ensued a confused conversation, the result of which was his refusal to leave the parcel in the lobby (“If it gets nicked, it’s down to me”) and my having to return to the sorting office the following day.

          Yes, mobile-phone dependency can be easily mocked, yet still we are hooked on the convenience. When the camera on my partner’s phone ceased to function, it became a major issue. Having checked all the settings, we decided to take it back to the shop. “They will just exchange it,” I said, “nobody mends things nowadays, they are too complex. It’s not like the '60s, when you would set off on a long car journey with a toolbox that included a pair of nylon tights for when the fan belt snapped. We have moved away from the manufacturing economy. Now we all provide services to each other.” But they did fix it – or so they said – and within two hours. However, the fact that I then had to spend the afternoon restoring all the data made me suspicious that they had made a sneaky swap. Nevertheless, it was all done willingly, efficiently and smilingly. We have indeed moved into the service economy era and skills have been adopted accordingly. Though not by everyone.

          I cancelled a restaurant booking recently because of the offhand attitude of the chap I was dealing with. One tries to put incidents of this sort into perspective – he might have been having a bad day and be looking for a little sympathy but, if that was the case, he needs to get real. Back in 1972, when the water pump on my engine failed, Ford Motors shrugged (metaphorically), blaming the component’s sub-manufacturer for my expense and inconvenience. Soon after that, Japanese cars came along and Ford – and the rest of them – stopped shrugging. Service industry workers, likewise, need to acquire the right degree of competent professionalism. Competition is unforgiving.

          Of course, it’s possible that the booking guy took an instant dislike to me or was offended by my attitude, but that’s another story. Sympathy works both ways. I, too, might have had a bad day. I might even suffer from a pathological condition that impairs my ability to interact normally with other people. Who’s to know? The causes of crossed wires are so numerous that we must rely on social conventions to avoid them. Life would be simpler if we could define its parameters – like a thriller writer can.