While the whole Panamagate unfolded in this last fortnight, another phenomenon was growing alongside it: the rise of the Maltese smombies.
It is a term, coined in Germany, which refers to ‘smartphone zombies pedestrians so fixated on their mobile phones that they risk injury as they saunter along oblivious to the world around them, their eyes glued to their screens.
In a recent Sunday Times of London exercise, more than one in four people risked hurting themselves or others, when using phones as they walked in London’s busy Oxford Street area. Both in the UK and the US, text walking is a new reality which is causing people to slow their pace and narrow their gait, as they distractedly walk on, even crossing roads without looking.
I’m certain that if a similar exercise was carried out in Republic Street last week we woud have had similar results. Since February 23, when journalist Daphne Caruana Galizia first came out with the Panamagate allegations on her blog, we have all become hooked to the phones, logging online at every opportunity for updates.
The fact that the updates came when least expected made the whole saga even more gripable. It didn’t matter whether you were a fan of the blog or hated it with a passion. It didn’t matter whether you were politics obsessed or a teetotal or whether your political beliefs tended to be green, Nationalist or Labour.
Even people like my sister, who never ever followed the blog, started texting me: “Check out the latest dcg”.
Suddenly people developed a compulsive addiction to news. A friend told me the other day: “I am finding myself, every 20 minutes or so checking out Daphne’s posts; then I feel the urge to check timesofmalta.com, then Malta Today and The Malta Independent and Newsbook, and all sorts of other news websites I didn’t even know existed before! And after I do the whole round, I start all over again. Argh!”
Another friend has increased her coffee intake since the end of February. “I’m taking more coffee breaks just as an excuse to check if there’s been any update on news. It’s like a cigarette fix,” she said.
Another girlfriend said that last week she made exceptions and lengthened her children’s television watching time. “It gave me the chance to catch up. I don’t know what’s happening to me. I’m even reading people’s comments under news stories… I can’t stop myself.”
Even my sister, who never followed the blog, started texting me: ‘Check out the latest dcg
Maybe if Xarabank had to carry out a poll they’d find that it would be mostly women to admit to this sudden news-junkiness. From a quick straw poll, all my male friends do not confess to this – albeit being totally au courant of what is happening, which means they are definitely following every single news item.
Men have been muttering protestations. “It’s like my wife’s mobile is stuck to her palm this week” or “I had bedtime story duty with the kids everyday this week so she could read the news” or “My girlfriend is quoting verbatim what this or that minister said.” I almost suspected tinges of jealousy from their end, like someone was stealing time that should have been theirs by right.
The truth is that Panamagate is as addictive as watching a television series; if this were Britain, we’d have column inches dedicated to the addiction, and its side effects. At one point last week, I grabbed the opportunity to scroll down an article on timesofmalta.com while walking in Valletta. After bumping into a sign and then falling off a kerb, I gave up and packed the phone away.
But perhaps in view of all this, until we wait for the Minister of Energy to take some action, the Minister of Transport can come in and save the day. In Antwerp in Belgium, and in Chongquig in China, white lanes have been painted to create ‘smombie lanes’ where pedestrians can walk while texting or look at their mobiles without irritating others.
• Now that the Eurovision song has finally been launched, everything is falling into place. Maybe after all, the Prime Minister, his chief-of-staff and the Minister of Energy went to Azerbaijan two Christmases ago to discuss a different sort of fuel.
“We need to fuel our people with positive energy: we want to win the Eurovision,” our Prime Minister may have told his Azerbaijani counterpart. All the cards were laid out:
“Merkel won’t budge, but I can handle UK and Italy – Cameron and Renzi are buddies. It’s this side of the world we have a problem with, so will you give us douze points please?” The chief-of-staff might have added: “I mostly have contacts in New Zealand, but seeing as Australia’s taking part, we can rally the Maltin tal-Awstralja. But in the meantime will you convince your nice neighbours Georgia and Armenia to vote for us as well?”
“If we win the Eurovision thanks to you,we will start organising tours to Azerbaijan, promise,” would have pitched in the Energy Minister.
It was a tricky, lengthy meeting. In the end it was probably decided that if we send a “very nice lady singer” with “lots and lots and lots and lots of make-up” and wearing “very, very shimmery glittery dresses with chunky ankle boots” and a “man crawling like a spider under her while she sings”, then yes, we’ll get the Azerbaijani vote. See, that’s what it’s all about.
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Twitter: @KrisChetcuti