Jackie McGregor: Server error - The machine stopped and a family gets a fresh reboot

They say you never forget what you were doing when something momentous happens. At the fateful moment the internet stopped, I was dunking a Hobnob, watching Coronation Street on catchup.

Roy Cropper had just handed Brian some stew. Brian remarked on the loveliness of Roy’s dumplings, it was a touching exchange, then the moment was snatched from me as my internet connection went down.

I was calm at first, the network connection failed all the time but usually quickly resumed. It was when my teenage son came thundering down the stairs, I knew the situation was grave. He looked traumatised, like he’d discovered a friend had passed away, effectively his very best friend had just died, aka, the Wi-Fi!

“Have you turned it off and on again?” I asked helpfully. “Of course!” he replied with an eyeroll.

I contacted my husband at work for a solution, but his Wi-Fi was down too. My son looked like he was about to pass out.

“How come I was able to text your dad if there’s no connection?” I asked. “Because you’re using your mobile data,” he said.

I attempted to finish watching Corrie on my phone, saw five ads, then got a text saying I'd used up all my data.

“Go and read a book,” I suggested to my son. “I grew up before the internet, that’s what I used to do,”

“Here we go, back in my day...” he mimicked.

Then I felt panic set in, what if I needed an ambulance? Where was the nearest phone box in an emergency, do they still exist? Could I make an emergency call with no connection? I didn’t like the anxious feeling in the pit of my stomach, like someone was about to switch off my life support machine.

I recalled the short story by E M Forster, “The Machine Stops,” written in 1909, about a dystopian future where humans live underground and are isolated in separate rooms, face-to-face contact is via technology. People are entirely dependent for their every need on “The Machine.” Then the machine starts breaking down, and people can’t remember how to live without it.

I told myself to stop being ridiculous. I grew up before the internet existed; I could cope. I picked up the book I’d recently bought but not started due to too much scrolling socials. My son began drawing, we chatted.

Hours passed offline, hubby came home, and we had dinner talking and looking at each other without the distraction of TV, the conversation continued device-free after our meal. We connected properly as a family for the first time in ages. It felt real, a reminder of how life used to be, pre-internet.

Then the network connection reignited, my family returned to their devices, immersed in missed notifications.

With no one to chat with, I turned to YouTube and watched people reviewing luxury hotels I'll never visit, eating exotic foods I’ll never taste. It reminded me of Forster’s story, where technology disconnects us from real life. Watching others’ lives may keep us from living our own.

A chilling thought ran through me - could the internet ultimately become our own “machine?”