Stephen VasciannieLOOK HERE nuh, is it not time to rise up in protest about the intrusion of the cell from hell? A young lady goes for a job interview with the Governor-General, no less, and in the middle of their deliberations, there goes the cellular. "I can't talk now" was perhaps the understatement of the year, in that particular situation.
But that experience, though supremely embarrassing for the candidate for the Governor-Gen-eral's attention, is not nearly the tip of the iceberg. A man is standing in a bank queue, along with, say, five other people.
(As an aside, I note that this is a bank which seems to have transferred its hard-working branch manager after a relatively short stint, with not even a puff of wind, or a cellular call, to its customers, many of whom know and trust the branch manager).
Anyway, the man is in the bank queue: he is speaking on his cellular phone about the treatment he has given to a patient. So, the man is a Junior Doctor perhaps, and he is having a word with his consultant. But do we really need to hear about the patient's blood pressure, that she may have been haemorrhaging, that she was last checked at 9:30 that morning, and that certain vital signs were positive, but others were not?
At some stage in the conversation the name of the patient may have been called I was really trying not to hear the conversation, if you know what I mean but even if it was not, it struck me that this was an invasion of the patient's right to privacy. Thank you Mr Celli for facilitating the wide dissemination of the lady's business.
DISCOURTEOUS
Nor do we seem fully to appreciate that some people regard cellular intrusion as mildly discourteous. If I visit your home, or your office, and the phone rings, I expect you to answer it: there is an implied understanding that I am in your space, so it is reasonable for you to respond to a ringing telephone in your space. But, lawks, people come to your office for one reason or another, and before you can address the business at hand, they have to address the cellular business in their hand.
So, you wait, trying not to listen, but at some stage you say to yourself, how can I convey to this visitor that I am not placed on this side of heaven to be his or her cellulite in waiting. Last week, not a day passed in my life, when this did not occur.
And, not to put too fine a point on the business, students seem to be among the most enthusiastic transgressors of the norms of cellular restraint that I wish to encourage. In the middle of the lecture, ring, ring. A student stops you on the corridor to ask about a tutorial, ring, ring. You are in the middle of a practice quiz, ring, ring.
Some schools have no doubt sought to place restraints on the use of cellular phones a blanket prohibition at Hampton Girls School came to national attention a few years ago, and I know of at least two other secondary institutions where cell phone use is banned during classroom hours. But, perhaps the battle is almost lost. Cell defenders are quick to point out that celli contact is helpful for administrative purposes. At what time will you pick up your child? What should you buy for sonny's dinner, and that kind of thing.
Reductio ad absurdum: the cell defenders will eventually argue that they need to call their children to remind them to purchase lunch today. In other words, did not parents and guardians make administrative arrangements before the advent of personal ring, ring; and why, pray tell, are such arrangements now deemed to be inadequate?
BEYOND SCHOOLS
But, of course, the tentacles spread well beyond schools. Many business meetings lack a sense of focus because serious points are constantly interrupted by the small intruder. Of course, sometimes you might even see people in meetings smiling for no apparent reason, until they stretch into the trousers pocket for the cell a case of quiet cell vibration as a precursor to mental stimulation.
And, speaking of quiet vibration, why do some people believe that they need to reproduce the latest rhythms on their cell ringers? If you wish to listen to music, a radio may do the job much better than a cellular phone. It is embarrassing enough that someone's cellular phone went off at a recent funeral at Sts. Peter and Paul, or that the best man's phone erupted at a recent wedding in Portmore; it is quite another thing if the ringing cellular conveys inappropriate music in some social contexts.
So my cell friends I declare war. As I cross the Rubicon, I fear defeat, for at least seventy-five per cent of the people I know are cell users, and the ruddy thing has already invaded places close to home. I hear the trumpets warming up for that evolving spiritual tune: Veni, phoni, vici. But as for I and I, the incoming call will fall on deaf ears.
Stephen Vasciannie is Professor of International Law at the University of the West Indies.
