This year, the estimated number of active mobile phones stands at 7.4bn. The world’s population currently amounts to 7.1bn. You do the maths. Well, it’s Sunday morning, so don’t. And anyway, you don’t need to ruffle your mental feathers with algebra complications because it’s pretty obvious that the mobile phone’s conquest of the world has been total and swift.

Of course, there’s nothing wrong with that – after all, the mobile phone is one of the finest technological inventions of the last 50 years. The numbers aren’t an issue. Just consider that we share the planet with 10 quadrillion ants and we don’t mind them. That is, until one of them accidentally draws a six-legged path in our strawberry ice cream. And then we mind.

In much the same way, we’re fine with the sheer amount of mobile phones. What gets to us, however, is when one of them gets in our way. Sometimes they do so literally: cue the frustrating experience of being trapped behind a guy chatting on his phone while driving in the fast lane, annoyingly keeping perfectly abreast of the other driver in the slow lane. Apparently, his call is more important than the traffic jam stuck behind him.

Then there’s the shopper taking a call at the supermarket checkout. Without fail, the checkout clerk will try and ask the shopper something (usually for the points card number) and the caller will raise a finger to put the clerk on hold because, well, it’s an important call and don’t you dare disturb me, you low-life.

The caller will raise a finger to put the clerk on hold because, well, it’s an important call and don’t you dare disturb me, you low-life

The caller will try and pay with a credit card, which involves plenty of juggling around with the mobile phone, pinning it with ear to shoulder while trying to sign the chit. And all the time, the shopper will be ignorant of the huffing and puffing, 30-strong queue waiting for their turn.

And have you ever been privy to a very private conversation while on the bus? Of course you have. The irony of it all is that instead of the caller suffering the embarrassment of sharing the minutest details of life with a busload of commuters, it’s us who get embarrassed.

There is no solution because socially inept people don’t suddenly start behaving properly when social pressure is piled on them. Rather, what they usually do, when you finally muster up the courage to tell them to shut up, is to accuse you of being antisocial and tell you to get a life.

Which is where that other marvellous technological invention comes into play: a good pair of headphones.