It’s tragic when smart phones happen to dumb people.
Exhibit A: Me.
A couple of months ago I inherited an iPhone from a newsroom friend. Before that, I had one of those old-fashioned Nokias that snaps together like a castanet.
I was used to seeing people in meetings cradle iPhones in their hands like parents holding their newborn babies. Eyes dancing, thumbs flying, these folks appeared to be in some sort of smart-phone trance – iStoned.
I would scan a meeting room, hoping to make eye contact. Nope. Wasn’t happening.