I can't quite remember exactly when or where it was
I first took a picture of two people on their phones.
But what I do recall is how their perfect symmetry struck me.
Two human beings locked simultaneously, yet separately, in the same action:
eyes down, faces lit up, utterly still and silent.
They completely mirrored each other.
But normally, when that happens in life, it means people are connected,
but they weren't, they were disconnected.
Side by side, yet they couldn't have been further apart.
It really appealed to me on a visual level.
But as I started to photograph these people,
I noticed they didn't even seem present.
They were plugged in, they were consumed by a digital domain.
They were in the Matrix.
They didn't have a cable coming out of the back of their necks,
and they couldn't learn jiujitsu in a blink of an eye,
but they were choosing to be in a virtual world over the real world.
This was something new, a modern phenomenon.
It was exciting and weird, and I felt I had to document it.
Mobile phones had obviously been around for a while,
and had already intruded upon our lives.
But not to this extent, not across the board.
I never set out specifically to photograph people on their phones -
I just saw it everywhere,
all the time, wherever I went.
And the more pictures I took, the more I saw.
I saw friends withdrawing from each other,
prioritizing their phone life over their real life,
without a thought or a concern for those around them.
I saw couples who could no longer communicate - the dining dead -
use it to fill the silence,
to hide their lost connection.
I saw shy people use it as a prop to disguise their social awkwardness.
I saw the rejection on people's faces as they were superseded for a device.
I saw all of this because -
not just because I am a photographer,
an observer, a voyeur into the lives of others,
but because it was happening to me as well.
I was surrounded by people not talking to me.
I just felt like saying, "You're in company, act like it!
Didn't we arrange to meet so we could chat and hang out?
Isn't it why we're here?"
If there had been any etiquette in place
for the use of mobile phones in social situations,
it had utterly disappeared.
What I couldn't understand, though, was why no one was talking about it.
They just kind of ignored the fact that it was happening.
I just saw these people on their phones
and I just felt, you know, we should be talking to each other.
I personally didn't want a smartphone myself
because I could see how all-consuming they were.
It was a can of worms I didn't want to open.
Problem was, pretty much everyone else had.
I was surrounded by worms
and empty cans,
but mainly by people on their smartphones.
I was raised in an analogue era
where, yes, if you wanted to get ahold of someone,
you had to phone a building and hope they were in it.
But maybe because I remember time before mobile phones,
I remembered that being out with people used to be more... fun.
By all means -
look at your status update, your eBay bid, Kim Kardashian's ass -
(Laughter)
whatever it is - please, be my guest.
Just... do it on your own time.
You know, if I wanted to sit in silence and watch someone stare at a screen,
I could have gone to the cinema.
I guess I rather optimistically thought
if I could just get the pictures out there,
I could maybe reflect people's own behaviour back to them,
and it might make them question their own usage,
I could start a discussion, get a debate going.
I thought maybe I'd get a couple of re-tweets out of it
at the very least.
Nothing could've prepared me for the reaction I got.
I uploaded the gallery of photographs which I entitled, rather morosely,
"The Death of Conversation" onto a website called Bored Panda,
and it just went nuts.
The pictures went viral, and within a matter of days,
were seen by millions of people in every continent around the world.
It was incredible to watch them spread as far and as fast as they did.
But the enormous global response, from Bolivia to Bulgaria and back again,
showed what a problem it'd become in almost every society.
The hundreds and hundreds of comments left
on all the different websites, in all the different countries
actually revealed a very similar experience.
There were naturally those who were defensive of their smartphone use.
But a huge chunk thought it was damaging and hurtful and so sad
that this communications technology was making us disconnect
from each other in person.
I wasn't the first person to take pictures of people on their phones,
but I think my pictures arrived at a time
when people were just starting to be fed up with it,
and they mirrored this largely unspoken feeling.
Here are a few of the more poignant remarks
left on the Bored Panda website.
"...people hardly talk to each other now, it's sad,
I used to be happier hanging out with friends... but not anymore".
"I see this everywhere. Even my wife does this and it sucks.
I try to be close to her but that phone is always in my way".
"I am looking at my husband while he is scrolling down his phone,
he has the same look on his face".
"This is so depressing - reminds me of lunch with my family!"
Finally, "I feel the pain in these photos...
I very often am left alone while in company".
What these honest and heartfelt comments showed
was that this very modern experience was making people genuinely miserable.
And the source of their unhappiness was being generated largely
by the actions of their partners, their friends, and their family.
The Internet has brought people together in the most incredible of ways.
But face-to-face communication and online communication
are actually in conflict as they battle for your attention and time.
When you allow your device to take precedence
over the person you are with,
you're essentially saying
that whatever or whoever you're interacting with on your phone
is more important than them.
It lowers their self-worth by default.
There was a scientific study done at the University of Essex
by Andrew Przybylski and Netta Weinstein,
which showed that people bonded less when their phones were visible.
Just out on the table, not even in use.
Imagine the effect they have when people are actually on them.
But what were people getting from a machine
that they couldn't get from a person?
What was in here that wasn't out here?
Most people turn to their phones
to look at work e-mails or to check social media.
In either case, they are looking to see if anyone has been in touch.
These devices are satisfying our narcissistic needs
as we know that everything on them somehow relates to us.
The payoff is you get a little shot of dopamine
every time you get a notification.
It makes you feel good.
As I've said, I don't have a smartphone,
but I do check Instagram throughout the day on my iPad,
looking for these little orange hearts.
But whatever there is is never enough,
and you're always left wanting more.
These computer cuddles are, in fact, a poor facsimile to the real thing.
Compared to human hugs they are like mp3 to vinyl,
Skype to face-to-face chat.
What was fascinating and somewhat ironic,
is that people were turning their backs on their loved ones,
who could provide actual physical affection,
in favour of a digital approximation.
We are emotional creatures, and we need human to human contact.
It is essential to our well-being.
So why were people choosing digital communication
over its real-life counterpart?
I think, for a lot of people these days,
they find it less stressful to interact by type than by talk.
When you communicate online,
you have time to think about your response,
you can deliver your best line, be the ultimate version of yourself.
This is very appealing compared to the normal pressures of conversation.
Face-to-face interactions can be really tough sometimes,
and often make people feel anxious and awkward.
In the UK, for example,
we have a very simple solution to deal with these feelings.
It's called alcohol.
(Laughter)
And it's traditionally been the go-to social prop for many.
But now people were turning to their smartphones also
as a way to cope.
The difference is,
alcohol is a very effective social lubricant - up to a certain point.
(Laughter)
But smartphones actually exacerbate the problem
as they allow people to withdraw rather than engage.
Before smartphones, if a conversation dipped,
you worked double time to get it rolling.
And it was in these moments you could maybe escape
the horrors of small talk,
and arrive at something approaching genuine communication.
That was when you bonded, that was when the magic happened.
These moments are being eroded by our ability to turn to our devices.
In Ruby Wax's book "Sane New World,"
she explains the science behind mindfulness,
and how the key to happiness is to live in the moment
and to be truly present.
These devices, they send your focus elsewhere,
and your enjoyment levels diminish,
as you're not giving anything or anyone your full attention.
It is, in fact, our ability to multitask,
which has not only been greatly exaggerated,
it is, in fact, a total fallacy.
Earl Miller, a neuroscientist at MIT,
proves that we are not capable of processing two things at once.
It's an illusion -
all we are doing is switching rapidly from one to the other.
But you don't really need scientific evidence.
If you've ever tried to have a conversation with someone
whilst they're gazing into their phone,
you will notice - after a few "mm-hmm" and "uh-huh",
it's pretty evident they're not listening.
They are barely even know you're there.
You could be on fire, and they probably wouldn't notice.
You could take a picture of yourself, post it on Instagram,
they might see and like it, but they still would do nothing about it,
because they themselves are not present.
And so it would appear
that these devices which were designed to facilitate our lives
are, in fact, affecting our relationships,
our ability to communicate in person,
and are an obstacle to us living in the moment -
all of which have been proven to be the main sources of happiness in life.
Smartphones are genuinely starting to affect social cohesion.
And if we do not learn how to switch them off,
we will become permanently switched off from each other.
So, what are the possible solutions?
Well, in the aftermath of my viral activity,
I was contacted by various movements such as FreeConvo,
who organise impromptu events to encourage people to meet face-to-face.
They've had a fantastic response,
and they now have meetings happening all over the world.
I had tech designers get in touch to tell me they were designing apps
to help restrict people's phone use.
I had the owner of a restaurant in Boston contact me
to tell me he was so fed up with people not talking in his establishment,
he was offering free meals to anyone who didn't use their phone at the table.
Even a guy in New York got in touch
to say that when him and his friends get together,
they all have to put their phones in the middle,
and the first person to go for theirs
has to get the bill.
(Laughter)
We need more ideas like this to help restrict phone use
and establish some basic boundaries.
The rise of the smartphone was rapid,
and there simply wasn't time to implement any social etiquette
regarding their use.
But now there is,
and we must do something to stop the detrimental effect they are having.
Just as calculators killed mental arithmetic,
and GPS is annihilating our navigational skills,
so, too, will we eventually unlearn how to communicate in person.
This technology is effectively creating human devolution
as our skill sets diminish.
If we lose our interpersonal skills, we will end up isolated and alone,
with all our virtual friends locked in a tiny bit of tech
in the palm of our hand.
We live in a world of perception, not reality.
The brain gets just 10% of its information from the optic nerve,
and the remaining 90%, it builds from what it already has on the inside.
Which means, it's literally creating the world around you from within.
So, we are already living in a virtual reality of our own making,
even without our devices.
The only time we are able to break out of this bubble perspective
is when we communicate genuinely with each other,
not just paying lip service, not pretending to listen,
not just waiting for the other one to stop talking so you can say your bit.
We must try harder than that.
We must try to understand what it's like to be them,
to think how they think, to feel how they feel.
This is empathy, and we paradoxically need it for our own selfish reasons.
Existence can be a lonely business.
To empathise and to be truly present with those you are with
is what binds us together and makes us feel less alone.
Next time you reach for your smartphone,
you might want to consider all of this and ask yourself the question,
"Do I really need to look at it?
Like, really really?"
Grazie.
(Applause)