"I'm on the bus. I'll see you in five minutes."

            I was talking to a young woman at work this week (she already thought I was odd because I don't have a freezer, so you can imagine the reaction when I told her I don't have a TV or a mobile phone).  We were talking about conspiracies.

            "What if," I said, "the government, or even just your employer, said to you that they wanted you to wear one of those electronic devices, so that they always knew where you were and what you were most likely up to?  But, if you chose to - and for a small reduction in salary, or increase in taxation - you could opt out of wearing it?  What would you do?"

            "I'd opt out, of course.  It's a gross invasion of privacy."

            Yes.  Good point.  But...

            "What if I told you that you were holding such a device in your hand right now?"

            She looked at her phone.  She does that a lot.  She was actually looking at it whilst I was talking to her, but she's NT, so she's able to divide her attention like that.

           "Not only can it tell people precisely where you are," I went on, "but it can tell them all the details of your personal contacts, your private messages, your internet usage history, the people you call and text, your banking and credit card details, your shopping habits, where you live, what you own, your hobbies, the places you like to go, what you like to eat and drink, how many pets you have, what your boyfriend's doing, and who he's seeing and contacting.  They can get access to all your photographs.  All your selfies. The list goes on.  And not only do you accept it willingly, but you're also happy to pay for the privilege."

            She looked at me in a way that confirmed for me what she thought.  That finally, I'd completely lost the plot.

            "But that would never happen," she said.  "There are data protection and privacy laws against things like that."

            "And who makes those laws?  The very people who might want access to that information."

            "But why would they want to do that?"

            I couldn't believe I was being asked that question.  It doesn't take a lot of figuring out, with the crazy state the world is in now.  I tried mentioning the US government's record on surveillance, and how laws regarding warrants are now getting more... erm... flexible?  That's a polite way to put it.

            "And what about people who don't care about those laws, anyway?  People who can side-step them?  Hackers?  Terrorists?  Other criminals?"

            "Well..." she went on, "I still have a choice, don't I.  And I choose to have a phone."

            Really?

            Choice?

            They're definitely starting to win once people are convinced that addiction and enslavement are 'choices'.  That's how it all works. 

             Am I the only one who thinks this way?  Am I the only one who thinks this whole thing has deeply insidious and dangerous implications for us all?  Don't get me wrong.  The internet has opened up the world for me and enabled me to connect with people I'd never otherwise have known about. It's enabled me to showcase my design work and garner an audience. But I don't need it there all the time.  I'll use it in the morning before work, then in the evening for creative work and entertainment.  Apart from that, I can leave it alone.  It stops at my front door.  I don't need to keep constantly checking my 'likes' or texts.  In fact, I don't want to.  I'm lucky, I guess, because I belong to a generation (fogeys?) that didn't grow up with mobile phones, so their use wasn't conditioned into me.  The phone is not, and never has been, and never will be, a dominant part of my life. 

            These poor sods, though.  And they just can't see what it's done.  The drastic way it's changed society.   For a good many people, it's effectively decommissioned one of their hands - because it's always there in hand: in the car, in the supermarket, on the beach, constantly being checked and updated. I went for a cycle ride in the beautiful sunshine this morning, and I hardly saw a single person who wasn't either using a device or holding one.  A woman stopped jogging to check her phone.  I passed her again later, after I'd covered about five miles, and she was only about half a mile further on from where I'd first seen her - stopped again to check her phone.  The people at work have them on their desks all day, and look at them at every available opportunity.  These devices have got us hooked and addicted and obsessed. Young people are suffering without even realising it. They can't afford to miss anything - and by so doing, they miss so much else.  Phone-related accidents are increasing. 'Nomophobia' is now a clinically-recognised condition: extreme anxiety caused by the loss of the phone, or going out and forgetting it.  Kids are suffering mental illnesses - both through using their phones, and then through not using them.

            Yet people still think I'm strange, deranged, possibly clinically insane for harbouring thoughts about where this might all be heading, and the dire implications for all of us.

            Lambs to the slaughter.  That's what I think, anyway.

            But then, I'm crazy.

            I don't have a freezer.  Or a TV.

            Or a phone.