May I Have Your Attention Please?

Cell phones. PDAs. Blackberries. Laptops. They’re everywhere. And, more annoyingly, their chirps and rings and vibrations can be heard everywhere.

I recently sat in a meeting with a Doogie Howser-aged CEO who checked his cell phone every time it rang. And it rang a lot. He even answered it at one point, telling me, “I’ve got to get this; it’s one of my investors.”

If I were an investor in a start-up, here’s what I’d like: A CEO who has an attention span greater than a gnat. I’d like to know that his genius—whatever it may be—was utilized in increments greater than two minutes.

My best ideas happen when I’m exercising, driving, or in the shower. What do all of these have in common? I’m off-limits to technology. I exercise outdoors (no iPod for me, thank you very much), I drive with classical music playing, and I shower in the normal device-unfriendly way. These rhythmic, uninterrupted routines provide a space for my brain to roam. A wandering, unencumbered mind is a beautiful thing. I often find myself groping for my bath towel and a pen at the very same moment.

Perhaps what we need is an Emily Post for the digital age. One who declares when one may—and mayn’t—accept a call, check email, or peck away at their Blackberry. After all, etiquette is tied to manners, and good manners are all about putting others before oneself. Chronic cell phone toters seem to me to be saying: “I’m so important, I need to be reachable at all times.” Chronic cell phone answers seem to be saying something even worse: “The person I’m talking with now might not be as important as the person calling to talk with me.”

In writing this, I realize I’m at risk of sounding like an old lady who isn’t hip to the times. Like my grandmother who insisted that the service of a bank teller far outweighed the convenience of an ATM. But can I really be that out of touch? I’m only forty-one and I own all of these electronic devices myself. I simply turn them off now and again.

Oops—gotta go. My cell phone’s ringing. It might be my agent …