When Ken and Linda arrived with a brand-new Doro phone, neither of them really knew how to use it.
Together we practised the basics – answering and ending calls, checking their balance, reading and deleting messages, and saving their home phone number so they could practise calling it. Nothing complicated, just the sort of things many of us take for granted.
As we worked through it, Ken explained:
“We have got this because we’ve been forced to. We don’t want to use it, but we need it in case of an emergency. We don’t have a computer or anything and we don’t want one.”
At first glance, it might be easy to assume this was a story about people being reluctant to embrace technology. But as we talked, something more important emerged.
Their home phone had recently been switched to digital. During the changeover, the line had been out of action for three days. For Ken and Linda, that experience had shaken their confidence. They realised that if something similar happened again, they needed a back-up way to contact family or emergency services.
Suddenly, their new phone wasn’t about becoming “digital”. It was about feeling safe.
By the end of the session, Ken smiled and said:
“You’ve been so helpful, I’ll come back if I have any more questions, which I’m sure I will.”
And Linda laughed and added:
“You’ve given him what I can’t – patience!”
Those words stayed with us. Because digital inclusion isn’t about convincing everyone to own the latest devices or persuading people to live their lives online. It’s about ensuring people can participate in a world that is increasingly designed around digital services, regardless of whether they actively choose that world or not.
A digitally inclusive society must recognise that not everyone is excited by technology. Some people embrace every new app and gadget. Others simply want enough confidence to make a phone call in an emergency.
And that should be enough. As more essential services move online – banking, healthcare, utilities and communications – we need to remember that resilience matters just as much as innovation. The move to digital landlines, for example, is technically a modernisation programme, but for many older people it can feel like something familiar is being taken away.
The answer isn’t to tell people to “keep up”. It’s to meet them where they are. Sometimes that means teaching someone how to use artificial intelligence. Sometimes it means helping somebody access a job online.
And sometimes it means sitting patiently beside a couple with a simple phone and reassuring them that they don’t need to become digital experts overnight. Because digital inclusion is not measured by how much technology people use. It is measured by whether people feel safe, connected and confident enough to live the life they want.
Technology should adapt to people, not the other way round. And perhaps that’s the biggest lesson Ken and Linda taught us.