I hate cell phones. Anyone who knows me fairly well – especially here in China – is probably aware of this, either explicitly or implicitly. I never liked them but this has grown to hatred – at a philosophical level – during my time here. In China, you will be hard pressed to find anybody who does not have one and use it incessantly. When I tell people that I don’t have one, they genuinely can’t comprehend it and ask me, with complete befuddlement, why not. The answer that I usually don’t give is that I believe that they are anti-social. Walking down the street, people coming the other way don’t see me, don’t see anything, except whatever message or picture or game may be on their phone’s screen. One night, at a coffee shop, I noticed three people sitting at a cozy little table facing each other…all looking down at their phones. They were there, but they really weren’t; their contact with the world around them minimized. This, as I’m sure has been presented many times before, is similar to the situation in the United States.

At different times, I have maintained contact with people here – people that I’ve met in person – in a text format (on my computer). While this correspondence is fairly comfortable, I often find that – if it gets a little more personal: talking on the phone, meeting socially – there’s an almost palpable panic. Although there are reasons for this – language and culture barriers are big ones, I’m sure – I also believe that texting gives people a sense of security that may not always be a good thing. I mean, there was a time, not so long ago, when even all but the most unsocial (and wealthiest) agoraphobes of us would more frequently interact with each other personally. It wasn’t that traumatic, and in different ways, from a human standpoint, it was probably good. This, I will also acknowledge, is most likely another similarity between our two cultures.

My opinion on this hadn’t changed until a few days ago, when I had asked, while paying a bill, where a waitress that I know had gone. As the manager vaguely told me, the bartender listened and gave a short chuckle that was out of place. As I took my change and walked out, I pondered small events from my week: consulting with a student as three others, almost literally, breathed down my neck (I’d tell them to get back and they’d take a step back and then step forward again…I felt like I should have been holding a whip and a chair); having a semi-private conversation with someone as two others took it all in, one adding her own comments; bargaining with a merchant as a small crowd formed around us. All very routinely disconcerting. And I remembered the last time I saw this waitress: keeping her distance from everyone – sitting off behind another counter fiddling with her phone – until she came out to say goodnight to me.

And so my thoughts turned to cell phones and text messages and, for the first time in my life, I saw some practical, everyday use for them: privacy. This is different from the United States. Everyone in China is either up into everyone else’s business or trying to get up into everyone else’s business. Most just accept it as part of the culture or chalk it up to the fact that there are so many people here. But maybe, in some cases, texting is a manifestation – conscious or subconscious – of a struggle against the lack of it: no matter how many people are around, text messages are silent and hard to see. Having changed my mind a little, I’m not going to run out and buy a mobile phone – I still think they’re anti-social. But, if some people have chosen to use this machine to rage against another that is probably worse, then I guess I’m okay with that.