Why AT&T Doesn’t Deserve the iPhone
For three hours yesterday while downtown for meetings, I couldn’t send or write a text message, place a phone call, or do anything on my iPhone. Neither could the two people I had made plans to hang out with after work, Ross (@ross) and Doug (@dmadey).
Their phones (also of the Apple variety) weren’t working, either. I found my way to some wi-fi at a coffee shop, fired up my computer, and G-chatted Doug; I direct messaged Ross on Twitter. We all met at Thirsty Bear, and all was well.
I could have a very introspective moment where I quietly reflect on how sad it is I get this pissed off if my phone doesn’t work for any period of time. Or how we used to make plans 15 years ago — You set a time and place, and made sure to be there. The fluidity in the way we make plans now because of smart phones, and the technologies on them, might not be a good thing. It allows us to flake out last minute. It can actually make it easier to break social contracts rather than uphold them.
But I’m not going to pause and have that moment.
Instead, I choose to be mad at AT&T. If they can’t power the nicest phone money can buy, then they don’t deserve to have this ridiculous exclusivity contract. When I had a BlackBerry on Verizon, I dropped calls once a month tops. Now I drop them 4 times a week.
I admit to some ignorance about phones and networks (not my area of expertise), and I know people like me suck up a ton of the network. But AT&T’s posturing this week about data plan tiers and asking customers to cut back on data usage seems pathetic to me. At a certain point, you can either provide a network to support this technology, or you can’t.
/cgl
AT&T owes me a Foursquare check-in at Thirsty Bear on 12/11.
I would have stole the mayorship from you, so consider yourself lucky.