Brain Epitaph

He told his mates his form had been great all week, every night. He said it at the pub, loudly, over several rounds of drinks. Nobody at the table asked him to prove it.

Your Vitality Tier is at risk," the app said. "No action is required from you at this time.

His health insurer runs a reward scheme off his watch. It reads his steps, his sleep, and his resting heart rate. One entry that week was a short spike at 1am on Tuesday, filed as "exertion, non-ambulatory." Steps and heart rate otherwise came back low.

Five nights later, with the week's numbers due at midnight, he was still awake in the kitchen, in socks. He propped his phone against the kettle and watched it sync. He blamed the Bluetooth, more than once, before he blamed himself.

Then he walked laps round the kitchen island, in socks, to beat the cutoff. Each lap added a step he had not taken all day. By the fortieth lap, he had technically had a great week.

The laps were not enough on their own. The app flagged his tier at the cutoff regardless, and sent its own notice. "Your Vitality Tier is at risk," it said. "No action is required from you at this time."

The Tuesday spike was sex, not steps. It happened in bed, at 1am, watch still strapped on, screen pressed flat against the pillow. The app, to its credit, did not care which. It logged "exertion, non-ambulatory" and counted the whole thing as cardio.

He has never mentioned Tuesday to his mates. He has barely mentioned it to himself. The kitchen laps, on the other hand, came up at breakfast, and again before lunch.

By morning, his tier had fully recovered, no questions asked. The data team flagged nothing unusual about either entry.

This newspaper offers the same scheme to staff, through the same insurer. A few of our reporters have had spikes flagged this month, every time at deadline, nowhere near a treadmill. We have told HR it was cardio.