The one-man show described by Andy Silow-Carroll, “The Agony and Ecstasy of Steve Jobs,” tells of the horrendous conditions in a factory in one town in China where electronics parts are made for export to the United States and purchased by us in our insatiable capacity for the next new thing (“Rotten to the Core,” Oct. 20). And the next new thing appears before we’ve figured out how to use the last new thing. We are the opposite side of the coin of the abused factory workers with our love affair with electronics. They are getting sick and dying and so are we.
I personally know of two deaths that were caused by people using cell phones while walking in front of moving traffic. But I guess I needn’t worry: The next new thing will send a message to the walker or driver whose eyes are on the phone telling him or her that a car is coming or your wife is talking to you or your child just fell off the swing. We’ve got plugs in our ears and eyes on our text messages and while we feel more connected to everyone we know, and many we don’t know, we are actually lost somewhere out in space missing all the life that is taking place around us.
I, for one, am an unapologetic Luddite but will, one of these days, trade in my Walkman for one of the Pads or Pods or whatever the next new thing is.