How much is a mobile phone worth?

A few weeks ago a man in his early 40s, on his way home from work, dropped his mobile phone onto the train tracks at Stockholm’s central station. It was the busiest time of day at the city’s busiest underground station. I guess he had to weigh up the situation. Apparently he waited for a train to come and go and then, to the concern of the other commuters that packed the platform, he hopped down onto the tracks. Anyone who commutes at that time of day would know that the trains usually come in at no longer than 3-minute intervals. Perhaps what we don’t know, is just how high the platform is from the tracks. It would certainly seem that this man made that misjudgment.

As the train came zipping into the station the driver saw the man trying to clamber back onto the platform. He tried to brake. Meanwhile, anxious bystanders tried their best to pull the man up. To everyone’s horror the train ploughed into him, killing him in the short seconds that followed.

So what was that mobile worth? His life? I made a joke some days later suggesting that it must have been an i-phone, but this was only disguising the deeper feelings I had about this incident. He was a man, perhaps my age, on his way home from work, and he never made it there – for the absurd quest of retrieving a small piece of replaceable technology. How on earth do his loved ones feel about that? What about the indelible impressions sunk forever into the minds of those that witnessed the horror? It’s hard for us to understand death, but sometimes we have to take pause and ask ourselves what our lives are worth.

I live in a capital city. I’m aware of things like senseless road deaths and pollution-related illness, but I’m equally aware that the odds are hugely stacked on my side. But that’s not really the point. There’s something so disturbing about someone losing their life so recklessly and the machine just kicking on as though nothing has happened.

In all of this I couldn’t help thinking about our inevitable move to the Australian countryside. There are hazards to be had out there – for  sure – but I have this romantic notion that I’d rather die alone, swallowed by nature, then to die a death remarkable only for its meaninglessness.

C