As I write this review, I'm also finishing off an article about how marketers are using mobile phones to get their message across to their target audience. It's frightening.
It's not frightening what the marketers are doing, it's frightening what the public is doing. People are letting their phones grow into their lives, becoming symbiotically one with their cell, so to speak.
It's leading to an always-on world where anything is up for interruption, where you can never be sure if someone is "all there" when you're talking to them.
Enter the worldwide Slow movement. Yes, that is a capital S, and not because Slow is the name of some new deity.
In fact, if the Slow name wasn't so popular, I'd call it Sane. It's the rhythm of life our forebears have followed for centuries, and we've made it unusual by worshipping at the altar of speed and efficiency.
The concept of Slow (with a capital S) is explained in this book's introduction:
Fast and Slow do more than just describe a rate of change. They are shorthand for ways of being, or philosophies of life. Fast is busy, controlling, aggressive, hurried and analytical, stressed, superficial, impatient, active, quantity-over-quality. Slow is the opposite: calm, careful, receptive, still, intuitive, unhurried, patient, reflective, quality-over-quantity. It is about making real and meaningful connections—with people, culture, work, food, everything. The paradox is that Slow does not always mean slow. As we shall see, performing a task in a Slow manner often yields faster results. It is also possible to do things quickly while maintaining a Slow frame of mind.
The movement is made up of people like you and me who want to live better in a fast-paced, modern world. That is why the Slow philosophy can be summed up in a single word: balance. Be fast when it makes sense to be fast, and be slow when slowness is called for. Seek to live at what musicians call the tempo giusto—the right speed.