Tech-heads bypass phone bans

LUNCHING at the Hong Kong Country Club, I saw a man talking to his laptop. Nothing unusual about that. I talk to all sorts of lifeless, inanimate objects, ranging from pieces of furniture to slices of toast to university students.
But what was a bit weird was that his laptop was responding to him. "Oh come on," the computer sneered in an exasperated tone. "You don't believe that for a moment."
My eyebrows rose. It's not that I was surprised to encounter a talking machine. I know many. My brother's car tells you which way to turn the steering wheel, my elevator tells me which floor we are approaching, and my alarm clock wakes me by shrieking, "Wake up, you useless lump of lard," in my ear. No, wait, that's my wife.
But machines are unfailingly polite. They never say things like, "Oh come on, you don't believe that for a moment." (Although my dog does, in a non-verbal way). The man continued to talk quietly to his laptop, which responded with increasing irritation.
After he'd finished his conversation, he confided in me: "This stupid club strictly forbids the use of mobile phones, despite the fact that these days they are quiet, discreet tools.
The reasons are archaic and muddle-headed. The fuddy-duddies on the committee are too decrepit to realise that computers, PDAs and even Nintendo game machines work as phones these days."
Two cappuccinos later, who should enter the room but one of the most ancient and conservative members. I called him over and asked: "Why are phones banned from this club? Is it for reasons which are archaic and muddle-headed?"
"Not at all," said Mr. Fuddy-Duddy. "We're not against phones. I have one myself, see? But they are basically status objects for posers. People have them to show off." Laptop-man shook his head. "Do your children have phones? Are you saying that every adult who uses a mobile phone is aspiring to be like your children?"
Mr. Fuddy-Duddy switched tack. "Well, the real reason is that mobile phones are noisy and intrusive and people have to shout to make themselves heard on them." Laptopman shot that down, too: "Today's phone mikes are so sensitive, you don't shout, you whisper."
Mr. Fuddy-Duddy soldiered on: "Well, actually, the most important reason we don't allow mobile phones is because they are work tools. Work should be left outside the club."
Quick as a flash, Laptopman grabbed Mr. Fuddy-Duddy's mobile and pressed the "call history" button. Up popped a list of names, all female. Laptopman asked: "Work or social?" Mr. Fuddy-Duddy took the phone back, his face reddening. Clearly "Gloria the Tireless" was a social contact.
Laptop-man explained that smart people could bypass the ban by setting aside their phones and using a wide variety of objects for voice and text-transmissions. "From next year, people will be able to make calls on earrings," he said.
The following morning, I was sitting on the veranda of the club practicing a speech, using a basket of pastries in place of an audience. I noticed Mr. Fuddy-Duddy staring at me. I think he thought I was using some sort of internet-linked cinnamon buns as communications devices.
"Join me," I said. "Don't worry. My breakfast buns are on flight mode."

For more revelations on alternate work tools and evading bans on electronic devices, visit our columnist at www.vittachi.com