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Never trust your phone: they’re creepy things and we need to start monitoring them as much as they monitor us

Sophie White

May 29 2022 02:30 AM

My book club gathered last weekend and, as per usual, the book was analysed in exhaustive detail with insightful and intelligent contributions from all assembled.

LOL. No.

In the grand tradition of book clubs, the book was largely ignored. It was given a cursory mention in the WhatsApp beforehand when everybody was en route. As is the custom, only 18pc of the group had started the book and not one of us had finished it.

The next mention of the book came about halfway through the night when a brave soul wondered aloud if we should discuss the book. We paused in our more generalised bitching to bitch about the book we hadn’t read for approximately eight minutes and then resumed normal service.

The bitching that night was of a particularly salacious nature. Earlier in the day, when others were detailing the home-baked goods they would be providing, I announced (fairly brattily, I know) that my hands would be hanging but I would be bringing Le Gossip.

Excited GIFs cascaded, completely overshadowing the people who were making actual contributions. Whatever. I was pretty confident that the gossip was even more tasty than Sinéad’s rocky road. The group members were positively salivating.

(Side note: I’m starting to become concerned they will mind my depiction of them here but what mouth doesn’t water at the prospect of a salacious story?)

“OK, everyone,” I took charge once everyone had arrived. “Phones on airplane mode, please.”

They looked confused.

“It’s just a precaution, I cannot risk any of the phones hearing this.”

“Calm down, Sophie,” Sinéad scoffed, clearly still irked about me upstaging her rocky road. “The phones aren’t listening.”

“Oh, but they are,” I countered, my eyes no doubt looking somewhat crazed. “The phones are not on our side any more. They cannot be trusted.”

Obviously we’ve known for years now that the internet’s tracking us. Zuck, Jeff and Elon are all taking notes and I was going along thinking that while, yes, this was creepy, it wasn’t particularly a problem for me and my ilk. We’re not up to anything nefarious that needs to be concealed from evil corporations and corrupt governments.

Then my phone did me dirty.

A few months ago, I was in my kitchen, just off a long call with a colleague and relating the various ins and outs to my husband, who was doing a middling impression of someone who gave a crap. A message notification interrupted my flow. I saw that it was my colleague.

“I don’t think you meant to send this.”

The “this” in question was the most horrifying thing I’ve ever seen. A full text version of the conversation I was having about her to my husband that my phone had apparently taken it upon itself to not only transcribe but also send to her. Oh my god. OH MY GOD.

Thankfully I had been singing her praises but, my god, the odds are pretty high that I could’ve been engaged in some athletic bitching at the very moment when the phone became sentient and decided to double-cross me. Seriously, at any given time there’s a high-percentage chance that I’m moaning about someone.

I was torn. I still desperately need my phone. I can’t get rid of it. It’s practically grafted to my body but it had broken the trust. It made me think of when dogs suddenly turn vicious and must be put down. The phone had shown its true colours. But I can’t put it down, hence my new precautions. No doubt it’s some setting that just needs to be turned off but who has the time to investigate? No, instead I just whack on the airplane mode and hope for the best.

The phone, no doubt sensing that I am now distancing myself, is now trying all kinds of stalker-y tactics to repair our relationship. It’s taken to piping up at random moments when I am chatting.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that?” The phone interjects from my bag.

“No one was taking to you, hun.” I pick it up to shut it off as it tries to suggest answers to a question I didn’t ask. “Are you looking for the local supermarket?”

“No! Leave me alone!”

I can see it is trying to mend our rift but I never forget. Just like my conniving phone, no doubt.

Never trust your phone: they’re creepy things and we need to start monitoring them as much as they monitor us

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