Bowing to pressure from travelers, the FAA has decided to "revisit" the de facto ban on the use of gadgets during take-off and landing. Depending on the outcome of this re-examination of the rules, the future may well allow us to remain glued to our screens for an extra fifteen minutes at each end of a flight. But is this really a future we should be welcoming?

While nothing will change in the immediate future, this "revisit" opens the door to end-to-end gadgetry: if the rules change we will be glued to our screens from the moment we first take our undersized and uncomfortable seats right until the time the pod bay doors are opened and we escape our flying sardine cans.

I think this is a step backwards, and that the pressure that the FAA is under is a sad reflection on modern life.

First, lest I be accused of giving in to unscientific fear-mongering, I should point out: I don't buy that there is any interference issue, at least not in general, given devices and planes that are not faulty. I am poor at following the current rules. I tend to leave my laptop in standby—so it's turned on, albeit in an extremely low-powered mode—and I suspect most laptop users do the same. I suspect also that in most cases, it's inadvertent: most people don't know that standby continues to refresh RAM.

Phones aren't being included in the FAA's "revisit"—they're simply too numerous and varied to be testable, even with a streamlined testing procedure—but I don't usually turn my phone off, either. I put it in airplane mode, to save the battery (no point burning power hunting for cells when I'm over an ocean). My iPod touch may be turned on or it may be turned off, depending on how long ago it was that I used it.

There is still a small safety argument that resonates. The job of a pilot is in many ways a simple one: don't fly into the ground. When you're up at flight level 380, this is pretty easy. The ground is an awfully long way down. But at take-off and landing, it could be mere feet away, and landing in particular is unique, as it's the only time the plane is trying to hit the ground.

If something goes wrong—which is admittedly rare, but not unheard of—it is probably to the advantage of all involved that they're paying at least some attention to what is going on around them. As safety measures go, they don't get much cheaper or more inoffensive.

But the more important reason to preserve the current rules is a spiritual one. There is something to be said for not being transfixed by an electronic gizmo. These devices have encroached on almost every aspect of modern life. Even in places that should be sacrosanct—at the cinema or theater, for example—sporadic buzzing, bleeping, and illumination courtesy of pocket-sized gizmos is abundant. I freely admit, I'm no angel here. Many's the time that I've interrupted a romantic meal at Buffalo Wild Wings to investigate a surprising Buzztime answer.

Those brief stints in which we must turn off our machines—the few minutes between push back from the gate and the extinguishing of the seatbelt sign, and the corresponding blackout at landing time—are something almost unique in modern life. Those rare moments in which our entertainment must come from within, not without. This is a perfect time to reflect on the journey ahead or the trip just taken. An all-too infrequent opportunity to quietly contemplate the world we live in and our place in the universe. A brief calm juncture in our otherwise hectic lives.

Far from striving to abolish these brief interludes in when we are forbidden from using silicon chips in all their forms, we should revel in them. The FAA's rules may have little technological basis, but they serve a valuable higher purpose. And for that, they should be preserved.