I
joined Gmail in June 2005. This
I know, because I’ve just scrolled
back to the oldest email in my
inbox (or, if you prefer, the 31,029th
newest email), and it’s from June
- Of course, had it instead been
dated December 2010, I would now
be declaring as fact that I joined
Gmail in December 2010. I don’t
recall detail like I used to, which is
probably due to my immersion in
Gmail—the email service where you
seemingly never run out of storage,
nor ever need to actually remember
anything again.
I love Gmail. Being able to rapidly
search through a decade of my own
correspondence is the closest thing
I have to a superpower. For example,
IT’S A MANN’S WORLD
I recently found myself at a meet-and-
mingle in a conference centre (there
were free biscuits), and spotted a guy
who had once interviewed me for a
job. I couldn’t remember his name.
I suspected he wouldn’t remember
me at all, but I didn’t want to run the
risk of pretending I’d never met him,
and certainly couldn’t forsake the
hobnobs. So, I searched for his
company in Gmail and, within
seconds, had re-acquainted myself
with his name, his contact details,
and my rightly-rejected job
application from 2008. Anxiety
(somewhat) relieved. Gmail has even
made spam emails fun—it
automatically sorts promotional
offers into one folder, so, when I
actually want to find a voucher or
discount code, there they are. Magic.
I realise the trade-off for this
convenient free service is that Google
leverages the content of my emails to
target me with specific advertising,
and I’m fine with that. Or at least,
This month, Olly Mann reflects on the slightly
unsettling yet oddly sentimental phenomenon
of the Gmail archive
Deconstructing Olly
Olly Mann presents
Four Thought for
BBC Radio 4, and
the award-winning
podcasts The Modern
Mann and Answer
Me This!
16 • AUGUST 2019