Magazine article The Spectator

The Joy of Bubble-Wrap

Magazine article The Spectator

The Joy of Bubble-Wrap

Article excerpt

The secrets of bubble-wrap and other delicious little sensations

It's not quite as bad as we feared: Sealed Air, the company in New Jersey that makes bubble-wrap, is not yet discontinuing poppable bubble-wrap. But its newly designed sibling, non-poppable bubble-wrap, surely spells the end for the real thing: it's cheaper to ship, because it leaves the factory airless and thus can be 'flat-packed for your convenience'. The companies who receive it will need to buy an expensive pump to fill the reams of polythene with columns of air, and that air will be beyond the popping power of human fingertips.

Panic broke out among the bubble-wrap-popping millions across the globe on hearing the news of the threat to their habit earlier this month. The pastime is universally adored. Just thinking about it produces a pleasurable sensation and a longing to hear and feel the release of the circle of trapped air, which makes you desperate to pop the next one. Addicts hate coming across a piece of bubble-wrap and finding that someone has already been at it, leaving not a bubble behind.

If it is discontinued, how will we get our popping kicks? There will still be poppable seaweed, and for teenagers poppable pimples, and for rich people poppable caviar, but you'll never again be able to pop in affordable bulk as you do now with any postal delivery of a breakable item. There are plenty of virtual bubble-wrap-popping games online ('Stressed out? Relax by popping our virtual bubble-wrap!') but they're not as satisfying as the real thing, because the fingers can't feel it. The question is: why do we love to pop?

It has been suggested by scientists that it's an instinctive ancestral addiction, triggering memories of the repetitive grooming and insect-squishing done by our ape ancestors. That may be, and it tallies with my feeling that popping induces a sense of pleasure at destruction. We like the moment when the victim (even if it's only a miniature polythene bubble) resists and then surrenders. Many of my favourite fidgety addictions involve small-scale destruction: I pick privet leaves as I walk past people's houses and fold them briskly in half and half again, destroying them and relishing the sensation. I pick hawthorn berries and squelch them, I yank the seeds off grasses in an upwards flourish, and I love stamping on windfall crab-apples. In a small way, it's power.

I accept that sex is one thing and popping bubble-wrap definitely another, but are the two distantly related? There's a cultish phenomenon called ASMR -- 'autonomous sensory meridian response' -- which is defined as 'the distinct, pleasurable tingling sensation in the head, scalp, back or peripheral regions of the body in response to visual, auditory, tactile, olfactory or cognitive stimuli'. …

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