Hello BV – long-time reader, first-time Grumbler here. I’m actually an avid fan of the excellent Dorset Insider, being a long-time parish councillor myself: turns out, jealousy is a powerful motivator. So I thought I’d submit a collective guest moan, if I may, on behalf of the parishioners I’ve just spent a lovely hour with, as we thoroughly enjoyed muttering into our milky teas in the village hall. We’d like to discuss technology. Not the sort that puts a man on the moon, just the kind that tries – and occasionally fails – to sell us a pint of milk and thirty minutes’ parking.
First in our firing line is the supermarket self-checkout. It looks helpful enough, smiling at you with its little blue light – until you dare to move a turnip. Suddenly it’s “unexpected item in bagging area” and you’re a shoplifter. A teenage assistant saunters over, scans their magic card, and mutters “just put it through as carrots” while you die a little inside. I don’t want to romanticise the past, but at least the old checkout lady never shouted “authorisation needed” because I’d dared to bring my own bag.
Poor dog
Next up was the parking apps. Oh, the parking apps. One of our little grumpy huddle swears he once spent longer downloading, registering, verifying, confirming and authorising than he did actually parked. By the time he’d remembered the password – which the app probably insisted must include a haiku and a rune – the car park timer had expired.
And just when you think you’re safe at home, your neighbour’s doorbell camera pings them because you’ve dared to deliver back their mis-delivered Amazon parcel. Within minutes, the village WhatsApp group lights up like a Christmas tree. “Does anyone know this suspicious man in a wax jacket?”
Yes, it’s me. Again.
The digital world has crept into parish life like ivy through an old wall. Lost dog? It’s online before the poor thing’s noticed he’s the wrong side of the fence. Rumour of a new planning application? Someone’s already uploaded the council map, pinned a screenshot of the salient points, and started a 58-comment thread about traffic chaos. Half the village is now on first-name terms thanks to the group chat – the other half have muted it permanently.
For the best
Don’t get me wrong: I’m no Luddite. I’m a BV reader after all. I deal with bills with my phone, and always pay contactless – my wallet hasn’t left my bedside table for a few years now (this was a controversial side quest in our huddle: sorry, but I really don’t miss the bank).
I do grocery shopping online, and I thoroughly enjoy a good spreadsheet. I just can’t shake the feeling that somewhere along the line, convenience is quietly turning into surveillance.
Still, perhaps it’s for the best. At least when the self-checkout accuses me of theft, the doorbell camera will have it on film, the parking app will log my alibi, and the WhatsApp group will have a full transcript before I get home. Efficiency, they call it.
I call it Dorset, 2025 – where even your grumbling is probably being published online …
