THAT'S MEN:A MAN strolls across a field, scything the tops off thistles with a stick, on the way to check on his cattle. A man sits in a call centre, headset on, mouthing a pre-scripted conversation with a customer.
How did we get from that to this? By "this" I mean the increasing loss of personal autonomy in the workplace and outside. By "that" I mean an era when you could at least express your own personal style as you went about your daily work.
A recent to and fro with a mobile phone company got me thinking about this loss of individual autonomy in our era. The loss is symbolised for all of us, I think, by the threat that our phone calls may be recorded so that some Jack or Jill sitting in a cubicle can later listen in and chastise the person you are speaking to if they stepped outside their script.
Both you and the worker at the other end must stay within tight criteria and any straying will be frowned upon and possibly punished.
My to and fro with the mobile phone company involved silly robotic e-mails being sent to me in response to a simple request, which only got dealt with when one human being finally talked to another human being and did the obvious thing.
But it could have been sorted out instantly if the first person I dealt with had been allowed to use her intelligence and initiative for just a few minutes. Instead she, her colleagues and I were caught in a system which discourages personal initiative and reduces people to the level of automatons.
Another company, a website host, responded positively to queries about transferring my business. But on a couple of occasions I made the mistake, on receiving a solution, of e-mailing them to say thank you. This led to an instant response saying, "Solution rejected".
Doesn't it say something sad about the diminishing status of human beings in our technological systems that a simple "thank you" leads a computer to conclude that the solutions proposed by the human beings (who get to append their names to what I assume are pre-scripted responses) must mean rejection?
We like to think of machines as extensions of ourselves - increasingly I'm afraid it is we who are becoming extensions of the machine.
The gadgets we buy pander to an increasingly individualised society (my music on my player, my book on my phone, my news personalised for me, so I don't have to stray outside what I already know, and so on).
Yet my calls are monitored "for training purposes", I must stay on script when I ring a support centre and, right now, I have four discs and certificates on my car windscreen to assure passing officials that I am compliant with all regulations and do not need to be fined on this occasion.
Within 10 years, I have no doubt, the car will simply refuse to start unless I am up to date on all fronts, have a tax clearance certificate and, for all I know, been Garda vetted.
How long before the woman you meet under Clery's clock will scan you with her phone as you approach and get an instant readout as to whether you match her stated dating preferences, whether anyone she knows is among your Facebook friends and whether you had a drink on the way to build up your courage?
All these things used to belong in the realm of science fiction. Now the tracking and recording is a reality along with much else, and the rest are around the corner.
But where does that leave the individual? Where does it leave me? Where does it leave you? Where does it leave the man knocking the heads off thistles - and whose bank account is about to be debited with a fine for engaging in an anti-environmental act?
Think about that before it's too late - and we're very close to too late already.
Padraig O'Morain (pomorain@ireland.com) is accredited as a counsellor by the Irish Association for Counselling and Psychotherapy. His book,
Light Mind - Mindfulness for Daily Living
, is published by Veritas. His mindfulness newsletter is free by e-mail." How long before the woman you meet under Clery's clock will scan you
with her phone?