Since starting the business in 2012, I’ve had a local landline sat on my office desk which was something of an exercise in pointlessness as the nature of this job means I’m rarely around to answer the ruddy thing. Now that my service provider is pulling my pants down to keep it breathing, I think the time has finally come to pull the plug on its life support.
Coming from a telecoms background myself, I’ve seen some changes over the years. I can’t say I was in the industry at the dawn of the internet or at the introduction of mobile phones, and certainly not when the Plain Ordinary Telephone (POT) first appeared - I’m old, but not that old – nonetheless, I came into comms back in 1991 when the internet was pretty much still ARPANET, when mobile phones were bricks that only worked in the vicinity of the M25 or at localised base stations (Rabbit anyone), and where instant worldwide communication meant being sat on an uncomfortable little stool in the cold hallway of your home via a tethered instrument that was often still rotary dial back then - and didn’t those pushbutton phones on American TV shows like Dallas look so damn futuristic?!
When it comes to my personal progress through technology, my first mobile phone was a Nokia 101 in 1994, first colour laptop, an Apple Duo 280c, in 1995, and I was on the Internet via Compuserve through a 28.8k modem c1996 with Altavista as my search engine of choice. I had a writable CD drive by 1998, a Sony camcorder by 2000, my first colour screen mobile, the Sony Ericsson T68i, in 2002, A Belkin WiFi access point in 2003, and a Voice over Internet Protocol (VoIP) telephone in 2005. Not exactly a cutting-edge timeline compared to some perhaps, but I like to think I got exposure to such technologies earlier than many.
VoIP is interesting as it allows for non-geographical landlines which is why some asshat with a thick Asian accent who claims his name is “Andrew Smith” can call you seemingly from your bank’s own fraud number urgently asking you to confirm your long card number and PIN code for ‘security reasons’.
I could see the writing was on the wall for traditional landlines long before I set up shop as a spark, so I plumped for a VoIP phone with a regional 01926 (Leamington) number right from the start… back when I had a trim figure and a sensible haircut. In the heady days of 2012, having a landline was good for business, and the public were even warned against trades who only operated from mobile numbers. In the olden days of advertising one’s services from the Classified pages of the regional rag, or trying to build a reputation through word-of-mouth, a local landline looked legit.
Today, the local rag is no longer pushed through the letterbox to line the litter tray of anyone’s preferred pet, and the old dears who once zeroed in on the newspaper classified section, specifically to select a nice young man whose advert had the friendliest font, is likely pushing up the daisy’s... or hopefully burning in hell if they we’re anything like the old neighbour of my youth who used to pop any football that happened to transgress over the shared garden fence.
Everyone and their dog is now on the internet and and/or armed with a mobile phone, aside from a minority of holdouts. My own home landline got put down last year during the switch from copper to fibre – 01926 421565 if you were ever interested – although it’s been a long time since a Plain, Ordinary Telephone was plugged to the jack in my hallway. I can’t tell you the last legitimate call I ever received on it, and its final, miserable years before being yanked out of the wall in disgust, were plagued with cold callers hiding behind withheld numbers. Anyone who is anyone who matters knows my mobile number, or in the case of family and friends, my wife’s, because she actually answers hers.
My office number was 01926 671186 from 2012 and entirely VoIP based via a German provider called Sipgate. Over the years, the number of legitimate callers has declined over this medium, and aside from friends in Aberdeen who were also on Sipgate and could make or receive free calls, the only telephoners tinkling my office instrument for quite some time have been muppets trying to sell me (probably illegitimate) alternative VoIP services, dickheads trying to sell me (probably illegitimate) fuel cards, and assholes trying to sell me (probably illegitimate) business electricity rates.
I would have kept the damn thing around for posterity, and for my Aberdeen mukkers to make use of, except Sipgate have been nudging up their charges over the intervening years from 2012’s “this is affordable for the benefit of a local number presence” to 2025’s “WHY IN THE NAME OF DONALD TRUMP’S ORANGE ANUS AM I PAYING THIS MUCH FOR SOMETHING NO CUSTOMER OF MINE IS USING??”
So, at the end of 2025 I downgraded my plan from Sipgate’s Business L to Business S – those letters standing for Large and Small, if indeed a one-man-band with a single fucking phone can ever be deemed “large” as a comms presence. Over 2025, I’d been sporking out thirty quid a month for a service that, pretty much, only allowed scammers, chancers and wankers a way into my earhole to waste my time, so if the phone itself was going to continue taking up valuable desk space between the photo of my wife and my potted cactus, it needed to cost less, hence the downgrade of my plan.
Imagine my mirth then, when three months into 2026, my bookkeeper told me Sipgate had been lifting FORTY quid a month since December. Yes, my downgrade was somehow adding the price of two pints and a quid’s change onto an already bloated monthly comms bill, which means two pints and a quid’s change less for my monthly bar bill – and that shit’s serious.
Firing a fiery support query to Ze Germans resulted in no explanation, although a “goodwill credit” of £15.54 was forked back my way. Well, forking cheers Hans, but it doesn’t really address the problem, does it?
Whether an admin error, greed or me not reading the small print, all it did was bring to my attention that something I’d taken for granted all these years is out of its time and at the end of its life. In a reverse from the consumer advice of fifteen years or so ago, it’s not landline numbers the public can trust for the trades anymore; it’s a mobile number and knowing the person on the end of it is right for your job. That’s what weighs in heavier than any office chump, call centre droid, robo menu system or A.I. chat-nonce you may find on the far end when dialling a landline. If you think I’m the right guy to do your work, you call my mobile and speak to me about the job. Whether I answer or not’s another matter of course, but if I do, and I say I’ll be there, you can rely on it.
These days, the landline is a business expense that the business can do without. Who needs additional overheads that ultimately have to be passed on to the customer? The world’s expensive enough - Christ, I got charged four quid for a latte today and I don’t normally pay that for any drink without alcohol in it.
Therefore, as of the end of April 2026, the landline number of 01926 671186 is no longer associated with my business, I get to reclaim a 200 x 230mm section of desk space where my Aastra 6757i handset has been gathering dust, and I save a few pennies off my electricity bill when I unplug it after fourteen years of faithful service.
And to Sammi & Ria in Aberdeen, I’m sorry I won’t be on the end of that line anymore.