by John Timpson - Tuesday, 4th September 2007 -

This fundamental change was made by our executive board; I was never consulted. The IT team think I am too slow to adapt to technical change and they are probably right.

After all, I believe the present generation are too quick to trust computers and the information they produce. I am happy to be labelled a cyber-cynic.

For a lot of us, it is part of growing old, like arthritis and memory loss.

Three years ago I was unaware of the BlackBerry. When people at meetings fiddled surreptitiously under the table, I thought they were using a calculator.

I didn’t for a moment expect they were relieving their boredom by talking to someone outside the room.

When my son James acquired a BlackBerry, our usually chatty trips in the car were suddenly filled with long periods of silence as he tapped out his emails and received vital messages.

I felt cut off from the pulse of our business and James shared my frustration.

“It’s time you moved on,” he said. “No more contacting me on the mobile – emails are much more convenient. I’m buying you a BlackBerry.”

Before long, the BlackBerry became an important part of my life. I now feel lost without it, and while still not an expert (my PA Barbara prints out the complicated attachments) and still without a laptop, at least I can claim to be “online”.

I was flattered when Paresh, our FD, asked me to get involved in the “BlackBerry Project” – he must have seen my growing technical expertise!

“I’m worried,” said Paresh. “It should be a time saver, but the BlackBerry can be a force for evil. I don’t want our area managers to become addicted like a kid with computer games.

“Persistent pressing of the ‘reply to all’ button will swamp the business with emails, and our field team will spend half their day deleting messages or, even worse, reading them.

“Then there’s the health and safety problem. We must make it clear that the BlackBerry can never be used while driving a car or crossing the road. If there was a nasty accident, we would finish up in court.

"So I want a BlackBerry user’s guide, which is best written in a simple way by someone who knows little about technology. You’re ideal for the job.”

I wrote the script and our graphic artist, Robert, produced the first draft, which he sent to our home. Alex found it lying on the floor by our fax machine.

“Why are you writing about BlackBerry problems?” she asked. “I thought you loved them. When we are together in the car you never leave the thing alone.”

“It’s not my BlackBerry I am complaining about,” I said, “it’s everyone else’s. I don’t like noisy BlackBerrys that announce the arrival of an email. I hate other people’s BlackBerrys that barge into the middle of our conversation and I don’t like posers that use their BlackBerrys on the beach.”

“I’ve got a pet hate, too,” said Alex. “It’s the way you lose your temper when the battery goes flat and you haven’t brought your charger. And talking about BlackBerrys on the beach, you took yours to Basil’s Bar in Mustique.”

“All I was doing,” I said weakly, “was checking the City score. People with BlackBerrys are becoming social menaces; I want them to behave. I accept that sometimes I can be as bad as other BlackBerry users, but with the help of my new guide I will be reformed.”

“Does that mean,” asked Alex, “it’s not coming on holiday with us next week?”

I mumbled my agreement but hid the BlackBerry in my wash bag.

Timpo Blackberry web booklet