Please sit quietly

I am often told I'm an innocent to the brutish ways of the world. I often have what I believe to be keen, cutting-edge insights into the way people use technology. In my mind, they are revelations akin to Paul's conversion on the road to Damascus or Archimedes discovering some arcane principle of physics while taking a bath. Instead, my earth shattering discoveries are so commonly known that I must have been living in a cave without WiFi to have missed out on it in the first place.

I therefore apologise in advance if the following observation is so painfully obvious as to be embarrassing.

Some people have no sense of decorum when using mobile phones in public.

The depletion of my iPod's battery prompted this gem of an observation. I usually block out the endless cacophony of central London and its gridlocked public transport system with some soothing tunes from my iPod.

I love my iPod since it reduces my stress levels more than any other gadget. Both its controls and the way it works with my computer via iTunes is much less frustrating than other MP3 players. Perhaps more importantly, it effortlessly blocks out those everyday sounds of calamity that would otherwise threaten my tenuous grip on reality.

Naturally, there are some days when I've forgotten to charge my iPod's battery, leaving myself without any sort of aural buffer between myself and the rest of the world. Finding myself stranded in a train carriage or on a bus without any other form of distraction, it's often impossible to avoid overhearing other people's mobile phone conversations.

It turns out that a surprisingly large number of people think nothing of airing their dirty laundry in public by describing some painful personal tragedy to another person over their mobile in minute, soul- destroying detail at the highest possible volume. Vindictive instances of infidelity by their life partner. A friend's rampant promiscuity leading to multiple unplanned pregnancies. Acrimony between a parent and child brought about by one of the two becoming financially insolvent. Wince-inducing medical conditions, many of which sound like medieval torture methods. In short, personal matters that should really be discussed in private.

Naturally, I blame television for this deplorable state of candidness. I blame reality TV shows for encouraging people to think that everyone else cares about the gory details of their private lives. Overhearing these phone conversations is like being forced to watch an omnibus edition of all the EastEnders Christmas specials, except they've all been written by an especially mean-spirited and drunken Marquis de Sade.

Perhaps, I'm oversubscribed to fusty, old-fashioned British ideas of public behaviour but I really wish people would take more care when using their mobiles in public. It's probably unlikely to improve any time soon though. If my iPod's battery ever runs out again when I'm confined in a public place, I'll just have to resort to sticking my fingers in my ears and whispering sweet nothings to myself. Quietly.

Alan Lu