This message is in MIME format. The first part should be readable text, while the remaining parts are likely unreadable without MIME-aware tools. Send mail to mimeat_private for more info. --------------9BDEC3C734854564A3BDDEA9 Content-Type: TEXT/PLAIN; CHARSET=iso-8859-1 Content-Transfer-Encoding: QUOTED-PRINTABLE Content-ID: <Pine.SUN.3.96.990124225514.7572cat_private> Forwarded From: darek milewski <darekmat_private> http://www.businessweek.com/bwdaily/dnflash/jan1999/nf90120e.htm Note to Cell-Phone Users: There Is No Cone of Privacy Why do they insist on baring all in public, at crowd-piercing decibel levels?=20 We're told that 13 million cell phones were sold in the U.S. last year.=20 And that one reason to finally buy one now is the improved security that digital technology offers against James Bond-style eavesdropping devices and plain old rooftop satellite dishes.=20 But after spending a few days at the Consumer Electronics Show in Las Vegas in early January with 94,000 of the cellularly inclined, I'm persuaded that an inordinate number of them have been defrauded. They seem to think that the green button labeled "talk" on the front of their phones activates an invisible, soundproof barrier that envelops them in a cone of privacy. Un-uh. Spend half of just about any day in an airport terminal, and you could write biographies of several blabbermouth travelers plus critiques of their various business strategies based on the detailed voice-mail messages they leave from their cell phones.=20 It's as if the illusion of privacy that prompts automobile drivers to take care of certain hygiene functions while sitting idly in a traffic jam behind see-through glass has spread to the cell phone world. Where once you would hear callers say things like "Let's talk about this when I see you," or "Let me call you back from a more secure phone," they now openly and animatedly discuss the sordid details of deals gone sour, customers in arrears, all manner of excuses to the missus for why the business trip will be taking longer than planned, and those icky, oily things marketing types say to the people they're trying to impress.=20 CELLULAR REALITY. Granted, my informal CES field study may have been skewed toward the digitally obsessed. Every phone peddler imaginable attended the show, along with legions of folks hawking every sort of cellular add-on from holsters to waterproof "Aquapac" jackets that let you yammer while wind-surfing. Still, I've seen enough to conclude that cell-phone callers seem to have evolved two laws for living within the realm of distorted cellular reality.=20 Rule one: If you don't make eye contact with those around you, you can speak as loudly as you want and no one will hear. (Memo to the guy in the striped shirt in the Las Vegas Airport: I know I appeared to be engrossed in my novel, but, really, your wife has every good reason to be annoyed with you.)=20 Rule two: If you become aware that other people are listening to you, perform one of several rituals to try and control what they think. For instance, you're talking on the cell phone and suddenly become aware that you are not alone. Begin bouncing lightly on the balls of your feet while looking around. That will signal everyone: "I'm anxious to get off this call. I'm really not the type who likes to spend all day on a cell call but the other person won't let me go."=20 Now, let's say you've been caught insipidly wheedling someone to get a sale or a favor. Roll your eyes exaggeratedly while doing a half-smirk. Even if you keep wheedling, rest assured that everyone will think: "Oh, good, he's not nearly the shallow, sycophantic person he sounds like."=20 LOOSE LIPS. Yet another way to signal an eavesdropper that you are simply playing the game is with the withering post-hangup crack. A man behind me in a cab line in front of a hotel packed with CES attendees provided a good example of this (The names have been changed to protect the indiscreet):=20 "Bert? Hey, John Smith here... Hey listen, I hope you realize you are welcome to attend our sports event. Or more accurately we NEED you there. =2E .[bla bla gratuitous flattery bla bla]=85O.K., so I tell you what, I'll call you later to catch up, O.K.?" Three-second pause while he listens to an answer. "O.K., great." He hangs up and says to the back of my head: "Yeah, sure you will."=20 So what's the answer here? One possibility, I think, is to sit all cell-phone buyers down to watch a little movie about the myth of the cone of privacy. Something on the order of those World War II films about a U.S. spy being tortured because some deck swabby talked too much to a hussy in a shore leave saloon.=20 It's either that or accept the consequences -- including the fact that for some people the green talk button activates what I call the "Jerk Amplification System." At the San Francisco Airport, I was again reading my novel when a silver-haired, anvil-jawed executive with an elegant briefcase and every pin-stripe in place came charging into the waiting area. Just as he passed my bench he bellowed furiously: "We don't need to pay a lawyer $250 an hour to tell us that one plus one equals two."=20 I can't spell the sound people make when they're trying not to laugh. But about half a dozen of us made it and then faked a collective cough. The guy next to me, with timing Jay Leno would envy, said: "You know, he ought to be able to find somebody who could do that for a hundred and a quarter."=20 Now, everyone is laughing out loud, but our man, oblivious and unrelenting, proceeds to get in line, check in, and return to the waiting area, never halting his harangue for a moment. Finally, he puts down the satchel and employs another popular cell-phone maneuver: The Free Other Hand Stabbing Forcefully in the Air. "Go get 'em, Tiger," someone else calls.=20 Really, I thought it was so funny I pulled out my cell phone and left my husband a voice mail to call me at my hotel so I could tell him... oh, never mind.=20 By Joan O'C. Hamilton in San Francisco --------------9BDEC3C734854564A3BDDEA9-- -o- Subscribe: mail majordomoat_private with "subscribe isn". Today's ISN Sponsor: Internet Security Institute [www.isi-sec.com]
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