Perhaps it’s a trick of memory, but I vividly recall enjoying live music on the Paris Metro. Or maybe it was Madrid? Or Maybe both? It adds a certain vibrancy that’s missing from Sydney’s otherwise excellent system. Here, stepping onto a train is like entering a sea of bowed heads, illuminated by the cold glow of smartphone screens.
Now, I’m as guilty as anyone of using my phone on public transport – for reading, music, podcasts, you name it. But I also make an effort to engage with the world around me, to offer a smile or a friendly nod. What I observe, however, is a pervasive sense of detachment and unhappiness. When I mentioned this on Facebook, a friend suggested people might be engrossed in books. But if they are, they must be truly depressing reads, judging by the expressions I see!
This worries me. Are we becoming a nation of individuals so absorbed in our digital worlds that we shut out everything else? It’s particularly noticeable for someone like me, who lives with a disability. I often rely on the designated seating, but people rarely look up from their phones, oblivious to those around them. Countless times I’ve had to ask someone to vacate a seat. Often, they’ll glance up, register the situation, but then hesitate, hoping someone else will take action.
Just today, an elderly man boarded the light rail, and I instinctively offered him my seat. The passengers around me simply observed, seemingly without a twinge of conscience. This lack of awareness and social responsibility is baffling.
Amidst the sea of somber faces on the metro today, I witnessed a heartwarming scene that instantly lifted my spirits. A mother held her young son up to peer out the front window of the train. Their faces were lit up with pure joy, their smiles stretching from ear to ear. It was a beautiful contrast to the pervasive gloom, a reminder of the simple pleasures that can brighten even the most mundane commute.
My Facebook post sparked a lively discussion, with comments ranging from complaints about noisy social media videos to the joys of digital reading. But the underlying concern remains: are we losing our connection to the present moment, to the shared experience of public spaces?
This isthe conversation I had with one friend on Facebook…
Her: James, my mobile phone is my traveling library – I’m actually reading a book on public transport, not just scrolling through social media! It’s the “walking zombies” on the footpath that are the real problem. 🤯 Someone nearly walked right into Alex and his power chair today!
Me: I’m totally with you on the “walking zombies.” If they were looking at a map to navigate, I’d get it, but most are just oblivious to the world around them. 🚶♂️🧟♀️
Her: Exactly! When I’m walking with Alex (a friend of hers who is a wheelchair user), I spend half my time yelling “Watch out!” because he has limited vision on his left side. It’s scary how unaware people can be.
Perhaps it’s time to look up from our screens, embrace the world around us, and rediscover the simple pleasure of human interaction.
I prepare myself when a walking zombie is walking towards me, but invariably they are aware enough to avoid me.
I remember seeing the same on a train recently, where an older boy was so thrilled to be on the train and looking out the window. He was already a bit of a train nerd.
I’ve found on a busy tram, people will readily offer me a seat. On a packed tram, they don’t, but at least on a packed tram, there will be someone to catch me if I fall.
Generally I walk close to a wall in case I need to hold onto something in case I fall. Occasionally, one of the walking zombies will try to walk between me and the wall. It’s weird.