My Shocking Confession: This Will Shake Up the Millennials
There’s a 10-digit number that holds the secret to the digital world
By Regis Yaworski
I don’t pretend to be “normal”.
So here’s a caution for readers under 30. Do not read this if you have concerns about your coronary health
Ready?
Here it is: I do not own a telephone.
I don’t mean just a “smart” phone; I mean smart, dumb or any phone.
My reasons are complex but they simply boil down to hate. I hate talking on phones, I hate being “accessible” except on my own terms and I hate the techno-acrobatics involved with setting up, maintaining and nurturing of the device.
The reality, though, is that my battle is lost before it began. In truth, we are no longer discussing a phone as a communication device. It is now a “key” to almost all the digital world. You may not require that 10-digit number to make and receive calls, but it has become as much a part of your identity as your social security number (social insurance number in Canada).
That means when I try to fill out an application, say, for a credit card, the application dies right there at the 10-digit triple-rectangle left blank.
Numerous websites suffer the same fate.
Worst still for me, when I lose a username or password, I run up again brick walls trying to fix the problem. I am currently on Day 3 of doing that with a credit card. I’ve also discovered a hard fact about attitudes towards phone messages from a standpoint you won’t find easy to accept: All kinds of people and organizations don’t want to talk to me.
As I phone the international numbers for the credit card company, the calls die after the first ring. They provide me with 10 or 12 numbers to call for help. None work because I’m not calling from Canada or the US. That includes those numbers specially set up for non-US calls.
Here’s another challenge for you. If you have a cell phone, try cancelling your service by phone. Hell, try e-mailing your cancellation. Really, your only option aside from carrier pigeon is to walk into a store that handles the product, assuming they’ll let you in the door (increasingly rare).
I have one small secret weapon with limitations. I have discovered a perfectly legitimate telephone number I use occasionally to fill in those blanks and get by the barrier. Unfortunately, it works until they call or if you need a text message verifying your identity.
What frustrates me in addition to these bales of bureaucratic barbed wire is that I went to the trouble of getting a secure, encrypted email account where verification texts can be sent. Wow, what a breakthrough. Except for one problem: (You guessed it) You have to phone the bank or financial institution to get them to send you the verification.
Have you ever mentally kicked around the idea of disappearing into a log cabin in the woods and living off the grid?
What are the chances of doing that without a telephone number? Can you open an account at the nearby village bank? And if you have an income like a pension or investment yields, will they make it to your village bank without the usual online application?
Or should you be hoping they have stagecoach service?
Meanwhile, I guess I’d better start shopping for a phone.