It’s no secret that the Smartphone has become our gateway to the world. Not a bus, or a plane, or a boat…a small rectangle. We’re transfixed to social media because it provides us with what we want, when we want it. Whether you’re alone or with others, the most natural thing to do is to pull out your phone and start browsing. Technology is built to cater to your needs. This especially true in public settings. Waiting for a coffee, arriving at a pub before your mate, lining up at the supermarket; these are opportunities to delve into the phone as to not appear awkward. So when I was in the pub waiting for my wife to finish work down the road, I ordered a pint and sat outside with the hustle and bustle of a Friday afternoon swell. I pulled out my phone, started reading an article and BOOM…phone dead. With naught but my frothy cold pint as company, I looked up.

Being about 4:45pm, nobody was drunk yet. Here were the after-workers having their first Friday drinks, still dressed in their business or trade attire. As I scanned the courtyard, nearly everybody sat with a craned neck. The couple next to me, a bowl of fries between them, only looked up from the screen to dip their golden chips into the aioli. Their mouths moved, but eyes were on the scroll. The man with his back to me was rocking his baby in a pram with his feet, one hand on his pint and the other on his phone. I stuck my tongue out at the baby and we smiled, the only souls seeing beyond the gadget. If anyone wonders why the divorce rates are so high, the greeting (or lack thereof) this man gave to his arriving and heavily-pregnant wife was a billboard to the cause. Society is so heavily invested in reality TV: The Bachelor, Married at First Sight, Big Brother, First Dates, Gogglebox. This is essentially people-watching. So rather than watch antics through a screen, the antics in the pub became that much more authentic.

As the sun began to set behind the buildings, a pair rolled up to a table of ten. They were nervous. The man’s leg was fidgeting and the young woman scurried off to the bathroom to leave this poor lad stranded before the crowd. Instead of approaching the group, clearly acquaintances of his lady friend, he pulled out his phone and leaned against the brick wall mere metres away from them. When finally she re-appeared, they were awkwardly introduced to everyone. Cringe-worthy stuff. But with an audience of phone-watchers, the norm set in and the drinks flowed. The company he’d avoided for two minutes would be his company for the next four or so hours. Yet on the other hand, not one of these ten people had stood up to urge him over when he was alone.

I’m not here to preach technological celibacy or to urge you to look up from your phones. I look at my phone as much as anyone, because authors need to be ever-present on social media (and we like to know if a new review has popped up under one of our books). But our reliance on the screen in social settings is quite the eye-opener. Did it happen overnight, or gradually over the past decade? Do we grow bored with normal conversation because that which is on the screen is performed without the possibility of physical embarrassment? They’ll build a university course out of this topic, just watch.

So as I type on my laptop, looking at my screen, with my phone by my side and the television on in the background, I ponder what would happen if the internet shut down and everyone was forced to revert to the old ways. Maybe we’d all run home and lock ourselves in our bedrooms waiting for the return of the web.

And maybe we’d just shrug our shoulders, have a laugh and order another pint. Just an observation.