What are your concerns about a potential Digital ID?

I would still have my BlackBerry if it had not packed up. I absolutely loved that phone. Solid, reliable, no nonsense. Regretfully, the one that replaced it was a smartphone, so yes, I technically have the facilities, but I still refuse to use them.  

My mobile lives in the glove compartment of my car, switched off, kept purely in case I break down and need to call the AA. All my friends and family know there is no point ever trying to reach me on it.

If someone needs to get in touch, they can call my landline. That is the only number I give out, to companies, I simply say I do not have a mobile. Or better yet, I tell them that email is my preferred method of contact and provide my email address. I like email because it gives me a clean, written record of what was said, when it was said, and by whom. I save everything in folders, so I can refer back to it whenever needed.

Email does not rely on memory, does not vanish into thin air, and it certainly does not pretend a vague voicemail counts as communication. The responsibility sits with the sender to get the facts right. No chasing missed calls, no “we tried to reach you” nonsense. Just clarity, accountability, and control, all in black and white.

I know I am in the minority here. Most people are perfectly content with their apps, their notifications, and their quiet surrender to convenience. These days, the assumption is that everyone is online, always reachable, and ready to tap a button to confirm something. But that is not me. I believe in privacy, in proper process, and in the right to say no. Some of us still value control over our private lives.

I hear you. And Japan has already raised the alarm. They’ve studied how constant phone use is affecting young people, and the results are deeply worrying. It’s not just distraction. It’s rewiring. Teenagers are becoming loners, not because they want to be, but because they’ve learned to only connect through a screen. Face to face conversation feels awkward. Eye contact feels unnatural. And without a phone, some don’t know what to do with themselves.

Doctors in Japan now treat young people for what they call “smartphone dementia.” Memory loss, poor focus, emotional detachment, symptoms once seen only in older adults with dementia are now showing up in teenagers and people in their 30s. Clinics are reporting a rise in patients who struggle to concentrate, hold conversations, or even sleep properly.

This isn’t just a phase. It’s a warning. If we keep designing life around screens, we risk raising a generation that cannot think clearly, speak freely, or cope without a device. And for parents, that’s not just a tech issue, it’s a family one.

We assume these skills are permanent. Conversation, attention, memory, presence. But they’re not. They fade when we stop using them. And with every tap, every scroll, every moment outsourced to a screen, the mind adapts. Not by growing, but by letting go. What we do not practice, we lose. And once those muscles go soft, rebuilding them is not quick. It is slow, painful, and for some, impossible.

I am not anti technology. I am against what it is quietly taking from our young people, and from the families trying to raise them.