Telephobia

Srsly, Gen Z?

If you, like me, belong to an older generation that is tired of being mocked by younger generations as clueless technology-impaired geezers — an insult that is especially hurtful because it's true — I have some news that might make you feel a little better: A college in England is offering a seminar designed to help Gen Z students overcome their fear of — prepare to be terrified — telephone calls.

Really. I found out about this from an article on the CNBC website headlined: "Gen Z battling with phone anxiety are taking telephobia courses to learn the lost art of a call."

That's right: Gen Zers have "telephobia," a fear of making or receiving phone calls, according to Liz Baxter, a careers advisor at Nottingham College. She's quoted as saying that Gen Zers "automatically default to texting, voice notes, and anything except actually using a telephone for its original intended purpose, and so people have lost that skill."

At this point you older generations are thinking: "Skill? Talking on the phone is a skill? That requires a seminar? What other 'skills' does Gen Z lack? Are they capable of bathing themselves? How about chewing? DO THEY NEED A SEMINAR TO WIPE THEIR BUTTS?"

Whoa there, older generations! No need to shout in capital letters! Before we judge these young people harshly, let's try to understand what they're going through, and how this telephobia seminar works. Then let's judge them harshly.

Here are some excerpts from the CNBC article:

[The seminar] involves practicing a series of scenarios where you have to make a phone call, for example, calling the doctors to make an appointment, calling in sick to work, and other everyday scenarios... Baxter said attending just one session boosts pupils’ confidence because it demystifies how phone calls really work.

Gen Z’s anxiety around responding to phone calls stems from a fear of the unknown, according to Baxter.

"They associate the ringing phone with fear,” she said. “I don’t know who’s on the end of it. I don’t know how to deal with it.”

[The seminar] also encourages practicing breathing exercises, if a call makes someone feel anxious or overwhelmed.

“We encourage students to breathe in deeply, hold their breath, let it out slowly, and then notice the resulting difference in slowing your heartbeat and making you feel much calmer,” Baxter said.... “So it’s trying to see that actually answering your telephone call shouldn’t be dangerous, and that they are very much in control."

That's right: Students in the telephobia seminar are taught to use breathing techniques similar to those used by women in labor. This makes sense, because a woman in labor is attempting to pass an entire human baby through her birth canal — which is not unlike trying to pass a watermelon through a garden hose — so she's dealing with immense emotional stress, physical exhaustion and almost unbearable pain. Whereas the seminar students are... answering the telephone.

Do I sound scornful? Am I belittling Gen Z's struggles? Am I suggesting that they're pathetic over-sheltered weenies? Of course not.

No, wait, I mean: Yes. That is exactly what I am suggesting. And I believe I'm speaking for the entire Baby Boom generation here. Sure, we have our flaws. We refuse to listen to music recorded by any performer who has not been dead for at least 23 years. We sometimes leave our bodily-orifice hairs untrimmed to the point where we appear to have tropical caterpillars emerging from our nostrils. We make paper printouts — Just in case! — of every single thing on our computers including spam emails from 1997.

But dammit, we are NOT afraid to speak on the telephone.

And I'll tell you why. We grew up in a primitive era before texting was invented, so the telephone was our only option. And to make it more difficult — try to imagine this, Gen Z — there were no personal phones. Each household had one phone number, and when you called it, anybody in that household might answer the phone, and you had to talk to whoever it was.

Picture this scenario. The year is 1961. I'm 13 years old, and I'm making a phone call to the home of a girl in my ninth-grade class named Barbara, with whom I am madly in love, although she is not even remotely aware of this. My goal is to engage in a casual spontaneous conversation with her that will cause her to fall madly in love back.

So I go to the Barry household phone — we have one phone, a heavy black device attached by a wire to the wall in the living room — and I dial Barbara's phone number, which I get from the telephone book. It's a rotary-dial phone, and Barbara's number contains some higher digits, 8s and 9s, so it takes me a while to complete the dialing procedure. Barbara's phone rings several times, and then a voice answers. It is not Barbara. It is Barbara's mother.

Barbara's Mother: Hello?

Me: Hi. Is Barbara there?

Barbara's Mother: Who's calling please?

Me: David Barry.

Barbara's Mother: Just a moment please. (Shouting) BARBARA! TELEPHONE!

Barbara's Little Sister (in background): Who's on the phone?

Barbara's Mother: It's for Barbara.

Barbara's Sister: Who is it?

Barbara's Mother: A boy. Barry.

Me: David.

Barbara's Mother: Barry David.

Me: No, it's....

Barbara's Mother (shouting): BARBARA!

Barbara's Sister (also shouting, but more suggestively): YOO-HOO, BARBARA! A BOY IS ON THE PHONE FOR YOU!

Barbara's Little Brother (in background): She's upstairs.

Barbara's Mother: Well tell her there's a boy on the phone for her.

Barbara's Brother (shouting upstairs): HEY BARBARA GET OUT OF THE BATHROOM! YOUR BOYFRIEND IS ON THE PHONE!

Barbara's Father (in background): Who's on the phone?

Barbara's Mother: It's for Barbara.

Barbara's Father: Who is it?

Barbara's Mother: A boy. Barry David.

Me: No, it's...

Barbara's Father: Well tell her not to be talking all night.

Barbara's Mother (shouting): BARBARA! WILL YOU PLEASE COME TO THE TELEPHONE!

(Finally, Barbara arrives at the phone. At this point her entire family is in the room with her, listening.)

Barbara: Hello?

Me: Hi! So I was, um, I was just calling... I mean, I hope this isn't a bad time. Anyway, I was just, I was calling to... I mean, if this is a bad time....

(I am interrupted by my sister, who has entered the living room. She is 15 years old and has 37,000 close friends with whom she must remain in constant touch.)

My Sister: I need to use the phone.

Me: In a minute.

Barbara: What?

Me: No, I was talking to...

My Sister: I need it right now.

Me (to Barbara): I have to get off the phone.

Barbara: Who is this?

My Sister: I NEED THE PHONE.

Me (hanging up): Sorry! Goodbye.

You younger generations probably think I'm exaggerating. I am not. This is what telephone communication was like in those days. It was an exhausting battle, and it was fought every single day in millions of households all over America. This is the crucible in which we Boomers were forged. And this is why, when we read about young people who need to take a college seminar so they can make a phone call, our reaction is, quote, "LOL."

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