I remember as a child watching
the Apollo 11 mission plant an American flag on the surface of the moon. I thought it peculiar—although I did not
understand enough to question those feelings—that we could land on a body in
space and brand it with our national icon.
I thought that the moon belonged to the Earth. How was it possible that we could claim it
for ourselves?
At some point during the past
forty years, we turned our eyes from the skies to the wonders of cyberspace. Instead of light-years, our universe is now
measured in bandwidth—a nearly limitless capacity for communication and data transfer. Almost without notice, we stopped dialing in
and became wirelessly connected. Long
distance charges disappeared.
Grandmothers everywhere became computer literate, emailing photos of
their grandchildren and downloading their favorite books to hand-held devices. We all thank G-d that Al Gore gave us the
Internet!
On this Fantastic Voyage,
however, (gratuitous Raquel Welsh reference for those of my generation) we are
not just scientific explorers. We are
capitalist mercenaries looking for the next big score. One thing I learned from working for a
publicly-held corporation is that “growth” is the only thing more important
than profit. Making a killing is never
enough. It is important that profits
grow at a constant rate; there is no resting on the laurels of flat profits. Investors bet on which companies can sustain
growth; the real money is made from that speculation. It was only a matter of time before large
corporations made us victims of our own acquired thirst for more: more apps, more text, more music, more
speed.
I thought I was doing a nice
thing when I purchased the new iphone 5 for my daughter’s birthday. As the youngest in the family, she is forever
getting the hand-me-down technology. Her
many-generations-old Blackberry was on its last legs, sometimes not even
turning on. When kids are at college,
their cell phone is their lifeline. It
is a virtual intercom system to all their friends and family, as well as an
alarm system to the parents for help or money.
Her old device was hindering her life and quashing her happiness. The launch of the new device was well-timed
with her birthday, making it possible for her to be one of the first kids to
have an iphone 5 on campus. It is not
the sort of thing we typically do, which made the surprise even greater.
But, ah, the hidden costs of
doing business. We are Verizon subscribers. During the one-hour phone conversation
required to upgrade to the iphone 5, I was informed that I would be required to
migrate to a new service plan, as the old plan was “no longer available.” The former $30 per month “data plan” would
now be $30 per month for 2 gigabytes of data.
Together, the sales associate and I audited my daughter’s data usage on
her Blackberry and determined that she used, on average, .000159 gigabytes per
month of data. Convinced that I was
signing up for an equivalent service at an equal price, I accepted the terms
and conditions.
One week into using her new
phone, my daughter began getting email alerts from Verizon warning that she had
exceeded 50% of her 2GB monthly budget of data. A couple of days later, the warning was up
to 75%. I called Verizon to check
whether there was some sort of error.
They pointed the finger at my daughter, saying that she must be
downloading all sorts of things. They
read from a script of items that fall under data services. I checked with my daughter who was not doing
anything with her phone other than texting and playing her itunes. She had not downloaded any apps, used GPS,
watched a movie, or ordered any custom ringtones. In fact, she was so busy with her studio work
she had not even taken the time to set up her email. The one thing she did do was call the
computer center to make sure she had the appropriate password for the campus
wifi, something that would pretty much ensure that she was not abusing the data
services.
The alert emails from Verizon
continued, and each time I would call Verizon to try to ascertain what was
responsible for these charges. How could
it be possible that, without changing her habits, she was using more data in
three weeks than she had used in the previous twelve months? The question was very specific, but a
satisfactory answer was not forthcoming from Verizon.
After many such calls to Verizon,
I happened to get connected to an honest and knowledgeable support person. She informed me that Apple changed its
texting capabilities; the new “imessage” activity on the iphone5 is being
charged to “data services” rather than as text under the “unlimited text plan.” Verizon figured out that the data usage would
skyrocket under this scheme, so they transformed the unlimited data services
plan to a pay-by-the-gigabyte plan.
While promoting and discounting the iphone 5, Verizon quietly forced its
subscribers to convert to terms that looked the same to an ignorant consumer
but were certain to generate revenues increases for Verizon.
For the record, AT&T did the
same with the release of the iphone 5.
My husband uses his iphone 5 on an AT&T plan. His monthly fee doubled the first month on
the iphone 5 because of the increase in his data usage.
It turns out that there is a
happy ending for this story. It took persistence
and multiple calls, (and a threat to return the iphone 5) before someone at Verizon
explained that we could turn off the data usage of the imessage and use the
phone in standard text mode. Once we did
this, my daughter’s texting was covered under our unlimited text plan, and her
data usage returned to its customary levels.
Space may be the final frontier,
but cyberspace is a capitalist free-for-all.
We want our toys so badly that we sign up for huge termination fees and
even pay an extra service fee for the privilege of buying a new device from the
provider. There is no other industry in
the world that has its customers so tied up with extraneous fees and penalties. We allow it, and then we say, “Thank
you. May I have another?”
No comments:
Post a Comment