The new weapons of mass destruction

He usually introduces himself with an offensive ring, such as the electronic slaughter of the motif from Beethoven's Fifth Symphony. After several repeats, at which point Beethoven has already rolled over in his grave, he begins to shout. He interrupts concerts, conversations and lectures. Who is this rude person? You have all met him before. In fact, you might even be the culprit: the obnoxious cell-phone user.

Whenever I take the train into New York I must first perform rigorous mental exercises to prepare myself for the inevitable encounter with this personage. When the commuter is the one receiving the call, there might actually be some transfer of information, usually something along the lines of, "I'm on the train." The more nauseating conversations, though, are the ones where the train-rider initiates the bellowing. "Well, I'm on the train. Umm . . . just calling from my cell-phone." It quickly becomes clear that the caller is only on the phone to say that he's on the phone. In an effort to be in touch with the world, he manages to be out of touch with all acceptable social practices.

The cell phone plague has moved through trains to restaurants to concert halls. And after rings interrupted lectures on two occasions last week, I realized the sad truth: The disease has reached Princeton. In many ways, reality does not apply to Princeton. Here, with food and housing provided, you can spend your time worrying about little other than reading books and writing papers. You can go weeks without touching a newspaper and remain blissfully ignorant of world affairs. But somehow this utopian bubble could not escape the cell phone. I have my doubts that those students whose incoming calls interrupted lecture really needed their phones.

What undergraduate here is so important that he needs to be reachable at all times? I will state the obvious: Cell phones, particularly at Princeton, are neither a necessity nor a helpful device. They are instead a symbol of money and fashion. Wearing the right clothes, driving a nice car and talking on a cell phone are musts for today's yuppies and, at Princeton, for the yuppies-to-be. Tote a cell phone and you will feel modern and connected. Indeed, it is crucial preparation for that investment banking job.

Of course not all Princeton cell-phone users are so obsessively concerned with their image. For many, the horrid device is a high-tech toy, something new on which to spend money. Kids enjoy little action figures; college students enjoy little phones. For better or for worse, some of the members of the undergraduate body will soon leave this category of 'college student.' But in the real world they will continue to encounter the draw of the trendy and modern. How will these rich and famous Princeton alumni spend their money? On an image-booster, a high-tech toy which only irritates commuters?

The problem here is that people with money spend it on the wrong things. They waste their funds on toys and clothes when they should be pursuing culture. Travel, art, education and fine food — not to mention charities (though I'll leave that subject to professor Peter Singer) — should receive the attention of Princeton's rich-to-be. If undergraduates are already pursuing the insignificant, I only fear the worst once they leave Princeton and receive a salary.

Before spending money on a modern toy, whether it's a cell phone or a Porsche, first go the Metropolitan Opera, visit Prague and eat at Jamin. If you're really desperate, send me a bottle of good wine (a 1982 Château Margaux would be fine). And if you must purchase a cell phone, please remember this irate Princetonian and spare the Beethoven killing, put the ring on low, turn the phone off in concert halls and speak softly. Nathan Arrington is an art and archaeology major from Westport, Ct. He can be reached at arington@Princeton.edu.