Always On

I first realised I might have a problem when I was hiking in the Himalayas. There I was – more than 3000m above sea level, strolling along narrow dirt lanes among wild cows and beatific Buddhist monks in saffron robes – when I spotted a sign on a small shopfront: “Internet access inside.”

Soon, I was reading stupid jokes forwarded via e-mail by friends back home, and tinkering with my fantasy team. Then I felt a pang: What’s wrong with me? I’m in perhaps the most beautiful place on earth, yet I’m huddled in a musty room, staring at a computer monitor. Did I really come all this way to do what I already spend too much time doing at home?

Most nights, my girlfriend and I sit on the couch, watching TV on one of the many cable channels. We each have a notebook computer – linked to the internet through a wireless network – on our laps. To top it off, our mobile phones sit within easy reach.

At any given moment, we can watch TV, check our e-mail, surf various websites and chat with friends. And when we get off the couch, there’s a good chance we’re plugged into our MP3s.

Talk about information overload. We seem to digest all this stimulation easily, but wouldn’t it be nice every so often to have a pleasant one-on-one chat? Sure, it happens – we’re not total robots... yet. But the more we get used to keeping all this stuff turned on, the harder it gets to shut any of it off.

Call me one of the constantly connected – a 21st-century man immersed in a lifestyle that lets me access the web anywhere, any time. Living this way is a blessing and a curse. It offers a level of convenience unimaginable a decade ago. But it also encourages some of us to indulge our weaker impulses. The impulse, for example, to seek distraction over peace and quiet.

An addictive device

A recent AOL survey found 60% of e-mail users check theirs on holiday; 40% have checked it in the middle of the night; 23% have clicked on their inbox while in bed in their pyjamas. And 4% have checked e-mail while in the toilet! When logging on begins to compete with basic bodily functions, I’d say we’re losing perspective.

Some face greater temptations than others. Take my girlfriend. She’s a lawyer and her firm has given her a BlackBerry, the so-called Personal Digital Assistant (PDA) that allows her, using the tiny keyboard, to send and receive e-mail and do research on the web, all from the palm of her hand. Because the BlackBerry is wireless and works wherever it picks up a signal – which is lots of places – the office is pretty much anywhere: a train, an airport, even the beach. One of my girlfriend’s colleagues took her BlackBerry on “holiday” to Costa Rica.

Those sending the e-mails usually want a reply now – they know you have a BlackBerry. At a friend’s wedding? Cut short the toast. Enjoying a football match? Put down that pie.

As those who have succumbed may already know, the BlackBerry is so addictive that it’s earned the nickname “CrackBerry”. Mark Guibert, vice-president of corporate marketing for BlackBerry maker Research in Motion, says it is especially suited to “a Type A person who wants to be in the loop as fast as possible. It’s very satisfying to be able to answer your e-mails while waiting for a lift or standing in line for a taxi.”

But staying in the loop can take a physical toll: doctors are seeing some increase in tendonitis and carpal tunnel syndrome among users: a condition known as BlackBerry Thumb.

Sprained digits aside, here’s my worry: once we all have such devices (if you think it won’t happen, think how scarce mobile phones were in 1994), will we be able to kick the habit?

Some experts suggest we start trying now. Tom Mahon, who’s known as a Silicon Valley ethicist, says, “I advise people to observe a ‘data sabbath’. One day a week, disconnect from anything digital. Pull back and unplug. We’re drowning in a sea of information, but we are starved for meaning and knowledge.” A smart idea, yes, but I reached Mahon on his mobile phone at his holiday home. Maybe he needs a data sabbath of his own.