Blood Cell Phones

Ok, Ben and I both have really ancient cell phones. We are mocked regularly. Obviously, we really don't care. There are a few reasons for our exceedingly unhip phones, which include the following:

a) Neither of us want to be chased constantly by our email or the internet, thus no smart phone

b) We have better things to spend our hard-earned money on than fancy phones and data plans

c) We just aren't that interested in electronics

d) We are humiliated and disgusted at the sourcing for materials for phones

The answer is e) all of the above.

Now, the time has come to shop for a new cell phone. The one I use currently is over 5 years old and waaaaaay past its prime--not good when my work depends on it. While I am miffed at the whole concept of planned obsolescence--why not make phones that are designed to last for those of us not into the latest and greatest?--I am far more disturbed at the thought that my purchase of electronics contributes to unspeakable atrocities half a world away.

What's a woman to do? There are no electronics on our market labeled conflict-free. And yet, for middle-class professionals, our culture essentially demands that we use them.

I am fully aware of my option to go ascetic. (In the eyes of some of my peers, using my apparently ancient phone qualifies.) But that would require me to change careers, finding a place where my clients don't need 24-hour access and I don't have to use a computer to document every interaction. I could turn a blind eye and buy a new phone anyway--we all know that individual boycotts have very little effect on the big picture.

Or, I could get creative. I could let my phone company know I am disgusted at my options (and I plan to!). And I can buy refurbished. Ok, the blood minerals are already in there, and that is not OK with me. But I don't increase demand for these products; in fact, my purchase will indicate that reusing resources and minimizing new production is important to me. And my letter will connect that to the need for ethically sourced minerals.

It's small, maybe, and plenty of people will tell me I am overthinking. I just can't imagine the women and children who endure rape and torture at the hands of the people selling the minerals think it is all worth it, so long as the thirty-something social worker in Indiana gets a cell phone.