Thoroughly Modern Me

One of the more striking aspects of ageing is that one feels more isolated from current affairs. The latest news of wars, stock markets, technology, or extreme weather, all have their interest, but inevitably the views expressed, and reactions to events sought, by journalists, bloggers, and gossips, are of those people who still believe such views contribute to a solution or resolution to the issues at hand.

We who are older realise that these events are cyclical, having seen them roll out across the decades; it's only the speed of transmission that changes. The fact that a live video stream of Something Nasty occurring in a far-off place can be shared on the instant with everyone everywhere, doesn't make Something Nasty less so. Nor does the immediacy of the data offer insight into the nature of the beast. It's simply more data, quite fast.

Recently, I was on a bus, a 'double decker' travelling between a nearby city and the town wherein I reside. Playing the Oldie Card here, literally, I use this mode of transport regularly, as I have a bus pass, which entitles me to free travel on the service.

At the Bus Park, an old man entered the bus - he was easily in his eighties - and proceeded unsteadily to the stairs to the upper level. I thought this was odd, as there were many vacant seats downstairs. About two minutes later, the bus set off normally, and the old man came tumbling down the stairs backwards, landing sprawled across the lower gangway, moaning.

I, and a lady sitting nearby, went to his assistance immediately, ascertaining if he could move or indeed might have broken his hip in the fall. The driver was only then aware of the incident and stopped the bus. A paramedic was called, and in the meantime we had managed to help the man to a seat nearby to recover. Because of the delay, the few passengers dismounted the bus to seek the next available service. At this point, a few facts might be useful to share.

Downstairs on the bus, with me and the lady, were two young persons, boy and girl, about 18, sitting separately, faces locked on their iPhones. At no time during the incident, at the time of the fall, the assistance, or the paramedic's arrival, did they once look up from their phones. At the point of change, they simply arose and left the bus. Further, it happened that upstairs there were two couples in early middle age, travelling together, who only at the point of change came down the stairs to exit the bus. At no time had they offered to help the man, the driver, or us, to deal with the incident.

The events describe perfectly the dilemmas, benefits, and pointlessness of certain interactions. The young people, with access to the world via their iPhones, had no immediate connection with events unfolding in their own lives, or, if they did, they chose to ignore or otherwise disregard them. The older couples displayed no particular (self-absorbed) prowess with technology, but showed no more humanitarian inclinations than had the younger people. The driver, with technology at this disposal that would have alleviated the incident, e.g., CCTV of the stairs and upper floor, ignored his cab screen and set off regardless with an unsteady, elderly man still making his way up the stairs.

Human nature, made more or less intense through technology, still reveals itself in simple acts of kindness, or ignorance. One doesn't need to be 'long in the tooth' to realise or even accept that this is the case, but as such incidents occur and re-occur across the years, it's the 'nature' aspect of the human aspect that lodges in the mind.

The incident described doesn't make anyone present any better or worse than they already were. Perhaps, some will take a lesson from it, while others may simply re-charge their  phones and walk on.

My recounting here is underwritten by experience, and given depth, or not, by the fact that we all now recognise that the difference between private reflection and public exposition, is the Publish button, pressed now.