Why the glance seems harmless

Nobody looks down at a phone while their child is talking because they've decided the child doesn't matter. The glance has reasons, and they're good ones, and the book won't work if we pretend they aren't.

The first is that it's quick. A glance takes a second. It doesn't feel like leaving the conversation. It feels like checking a clock.

The second is that it might be important. Someone could be trying to reach you. The school, a parent, work. The phone is how the important things arrive, and a look at it is a look at whether the world needs you.

The third is that you can hear perfectly well with your eyes down. You can prove it. Ask anyone in the middle of a glance what was just said and they can tell you. So the listening is happening. The eyes are just doing something else.

The fourth is that everyone does it. The person telling you the story has done the same to you this week. There's a shared understanding at the table that phones are present and get looked at, and nobody has ever called it out.

The fifth is that the story is long, or ordinary, or one you've heard before. The day at work. The thing the teacher said. You can give it half of you and it will get everything it needs.

The sixth is that this is your time. You've worked all day and the phone is the small thing that's yours, and the moment someone starts talking is often the first moment you've had it in your hand.

Each of these is true in a way. The glance is quick. The phone is where important things arrive. You do hear the words. Other people do it. Some stories are long. You do need something that's yours. The next ten chapters take these one at a time, and the aim in each isn't to tell you the reason is wrong, but to show what the glance is doing that the reason doesn't see. If the phone is in your hand in every spare moment and not only during conversations, that's the earlier book, The phone can wait. This one starts at the moment somebody speaks.