I remember how in my younger days I felt the world was mine, and I was part of whatever was going on. Then I got older and became invisible, and I felt less and less a part of it. Some silly old fools complained about the coming of technology, but I loved it. It didn’t exclude me. All I had to do was learn what it could do. But the people who used it, who thought it was all the cat’s pyjamas, who talked of a revolution in consciousness, of evolution speeding up, and suchlike nonsense – they made me feel excluded. It was all about being young and digital. Being old and digital wasn’t the same. You weren’t a native, you were an outsider.

Your opinion was ignored, even if you were right.

I got older, and found myself changing again. I felt ever more connected to the world as a whole, not just the human part. I’d always loved nature, but it came to seem more and more important, and protecting it from us became the most urgent concern.

And now here we are. Technology has reached a point where it can replace everything we always thought made us human.

The devil makes work for idle hands. You don’t need to be a fire and brimstone preacher to see the truth of that. You don’t even need to believe in the devil. Humans who have nothing to do become devils quite of their own accord. Now we face a world in which no human – or very few – need work at all. And to keep all those idle hands occupied, we have a legion of Companions – robot sex-slaves, or at least slaves of whatever kind people want. I suppose some people might devote themselves to creating beautiful things – but how soon will all art and literature be churned out by a cadre of robot Writers and Artists and Musicians? Would most people care if it were?

It’s bread and circuses all over again. The Romans had human slaves, and an idle population. Look where it ended up. We’ve got mechanical ones. Electrical. Digital. Our bread and circuses are Workers and Companions.

And who’s looking after the planet?

Sometimes I despair. Then I want to do what Cecilia did. I feel like I’ve had enough. Like I can’t live in this world. I have no role, no purpose, and nor does anyone else. I’d rather hand it over to Winifred and Mother Nature, and take myself and humanity as a whole out of the equation. The rest of the world would give three cheers, I’m sure, to see the back of us. If animals and plants could cheer.