All day long, I’ll happily use wristbands to record my steps, heartbeat, pulse, weight, food (calories in), additional exercise (calories out) and even water consumption
Persistent binge-drinking criminals are to be fitted with an electronic tag capable of working out when they have had more than a permitted level of grog, which then alerts a police or parole officer via the internet
Most mornings I begin life-logging as I get up. I sync my mobile phone to my purple plastic Vivofit, and download all the data from the previous night about how well – or badly – I slept: patches of light sleep, fragments of deep sleep, moments when the car alarm next door woke me up completely. Great lumps of quantifiable ammunition for when I want to moan later about how tired I am.
They’re going to be collecting personal data in Croydon, too. But there, it’s part of an initiative to cut anti-social behaviour. Persistent binge-drinking criminals in the borough are to be fitted with an electronic tag, capable of working out when they have had more than a permitted level of grog, which then alerts a police or parole officer, via the internet.
They’re going to be collecting personal data in Croydon, too. But there, it’s part of an initiative to cut anti-social behaviour. Persistent binge-drinking criminals in the borough are to be fitted with an electronic tag, capable of working out when they have had more than a permitted level of grog, which then alerts a police or parole officer, via the internet.
The tags are known as booze bracelets in the United States, where actor Lindsay Lohan has been seen with one on the beach. Here, I suspect we’ll christen them Boris bands, as the Mayor of London is said to be particularly enthusiastic about this new form of sousveillance.
The devices are thorough – sensors check air and perspiration emissions from the skin every 30 minutes for a sniff of vodka, and if your blood alcohol level reads more than 20mg of alcohol per 100ml of blood (what you’d get after about a small glass of sauvignon blanc), then it will be followed by a visit from the Old Bill.
I know, I know, it was my first thought, too. The whole thing is over the top, anti-freedom, nanny/police-state-gone-mad. So where can I get one?
You see, I don’t just monitor sleep. I’m more of a one-woman science experiment these days. Charts, statistics, readings – can’t get enough. To my surprise, I seem to like to share them, too.
Ask me to collect my personal data for the government and I’d recoil harder than a blunderbuss on a clay-pigeon shoot. Ask me to tweet my daily step and calorie count and, wait, been there, done that.
I’m like one of those deeply irritating, super-obedient Lycra-clad exercisers in Apple’s new iPhone ad, working off their “chicken fat” under digital instruction from apps that note their every exhalation and muscle twitch, and exhort them to aim for higher targets. Without the enthusiasm or muscles.
Ask me to collect my personal data for the government and I’d recoil harder than a blunderbuss on a clay-pigeon shoot. Ask me to tweet my daily step and calorie count and, wait, been there, done that.
I’m like one of those deeply irritating, super-obedient Lycra-clad exercisers in Apple’s new iPhone ad, working off their “chicken fat” under digital instruction from apps that note their every exhalation and muscle twitch, and exhort them to aim for higher targets. Without the enthusiasm or muscles.
But you’re all quantifying yourselves, too, don’t deny it. Who needs Big Brother when we’re a data hunter-gatherer dream; body-hackers who dutifully collect statistics and upload them to comparison sites without a qualm. And if we’re not using our mobiles to input our output, we’re wearing more plastic lifestyle-monitoring wristlets than rainbow loom bands. I’m naked without my Vivofit, George (Osborne) has a FitBit like Gwyneth (Paltrow); Kanye (West) favours the Nike FuelBand; Kristen (Stewart) has been papped in her Jawbone.
No doubt they, like me, start self-quantifying from the moment the alarm goes off. Because even before I check Twitter, I like to inspect my fitness band. Then, all day long, I’ll happily record my steps, heartbeat, pulse, weight, food (calories in), additional exercise (calories out) and even water consumption.
Meanwhile, my new Black Pro toothbrush has Bluetooth plus a monitoring app to collate brushstrokes and the number of times I floss. And the weighing scales talk to my pedometer (behind my back).
Naturally, I already note down how many alcohol units I notch up (though that figure can be adjusted manually if I don’t like the look of it). Imagine how much more accurate the Science of Me would be if I fed in real blood‑alcohol levels, too, using a Boris band.
On second thoughts… perhaps there are some numbers better shrouded in approximations. Not even a computer gets to know my real age.
