You are what you own?

The other day I was trying to get my plane to Abidjan. There was a long queue at Barcelona airport and I tried to check in at the automatic counters (only one out of three were working, shame on Air France).

The machine could not recognize me and therefore asked for what other electronic devices ask nowadays to identify you: not the ID card number, the birth date or the name of your parents, but my credit card.

The force of my bank account is greater than the power of my official documents, of my word, of my own image.

The confidence in someone’s personality is based on his belongings more than on his history. How sad.


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