Random Flux

Geeks and tech users tend to be junkies. Literally. I’ve noticed that in myself recently in connection with the issue of whether or not to get an iPhone. There is no good reason for me to get one, but my inner geek has developed what is quite literally a physical craving for one. Dealing with this has become my ongoing Zen koan over the last few weeks and it’s a very interesting experience.

On this week’s Windows Weekly podcast Leo Laporte and Paul Thurrott discuss the subject of  “doing more with less”, which is closely related to this theme. Many of the gadgets and software gizmos we want are really electronic junkie food that only feed our insatiable addiction. We’re excited as little kids at Christmas until we get the gadget, play with it for a while, and then our hunger turns to the next great thing.

In doing this, we become like amateur sculptors with a huge array of high-tech tools worth thousands of dollars. The tools and their complexity actually distract these amateurs from the process of art. The real sculptor will have a small set of tools worn with years of use, scratched and repaired many times, their grips wound by hand with old scraps of leather. And their work is different from that of the amateur because they are totally focused on its process and experience, not on tools as toys.

There is actually no good reason on earth for me to get an iPhone: I work at home most of the time and already have an iPod Touch, which does everything that the iPhone does while it’s connected to my WiFi, and it costs me zero per month.  My mobile phone  has a much better camera and only will only cost me around 10-20 euros a month once my contract expires and I switch to a prepaid card in June. And for everything else I have a 1kg netbook with a 3g stick with which I can go online anywhere. Buying an iPhone would cost me over 700 euros a year for the ability to get the occasional email between hotspots and use Google maps instead of my brain, maybe once or twice a month.

But still my inner geek goes on demanding to be fed, creating something that feels like a physical hunger. Ever since I’ve noticed this I’ve become more determined not to get the phone, because it would put an end to this process. Instead, I’m watching what’s going on with this odd creature inside me when it doesn’t get fed. It’s a little like daydreaming about pizza while you’re sitting in zazen — the moment is much more intense than the pizza ever is when you finally get it, you always remember that with a slightly wistful and guilty feeling when you’re biting into the pizza, but knowing that doesn’t make the hunger go away.

Quatz!