Critics call them "iPod People."

They ride trains, walk to class and wander malls - among the crowd but apart from it thanks to the signature plastic "buds"jammed in their ears and the thin white wires disappearing into their jackets.

Apple's digital music player is massively popular with people on the go. And as the iPod morphs from hipster accessory to everyday item, critics worry that the growing number of people tuning out from the world is diminishing public life.

"Get on a subway, and you're surrounded by a bunch of Stepford commuters, all sealed off from each other, staring into mid-space as if anesthetized by technology. Don't ask, don't tell, don't overhear, don't observe. Just tune in and tune out," columnist Andrew Sullivan wrote in the Sunday Times of London.

Critics claim the growing number of people sealing themselves in sonic cocoons is making our streets and public spaces less hospitable.

Observers say the phenomenon is particularly noticeable in the big commuter cities like New York City, Chicago and Los Angeles, where iPods are part fashion statement, part insulation from urban hubbub.

Jenn Heettner, for instance, listens to Coldplay and the Flaming Lips to jazz up her daily commute from Hoboken, N.J. to Manhattan.

"I feel like I'm missing out on that New York experience of being in it. I feel removed," Heettner said. "But when you make the same commute every day, it feels okay to be a little removed."

Apple has sold more than 10 million since iPods made their debut in 2001. The success of the original spawned the iPod mini last year and the even smaller iPod shuffle this year. Though popular, the iPod is just the most recognizable in a growing market of digital music players - and thus the main target of social critics.

"It's bad in the sense that when we put our iPod on, we send a signal to everyone around us that we don't have to engage with them, and the subtext is that they don't matter," said Christine Rosen, a senior editor of The New Atlantis, a journal about society and technology.

Rosen, based in Washington, D.C., recalled bumping into an iPod wearer in the supermarket. There was no "excuse me," no apology. "He was happily rocking out, getting his coffee," she said.

Some of these social concerns date back to 1979, the year Sony debuted its Soundabout - later to be renamed the Walkman. Runners, rockers and commuters were soon pinching the puffy foam headphones to their ears, popping in a cassette and enjoying private music shows on the go.

But the Walkman is like a jitney to the iPod's Ferrari. While tapes play maybe 90 minutes of music, digital players can carry days'worth of sound - Wagner's Ring Cycle; every Beatles song, spoken novels, whatever.

And with playlists and shuffle features, users have control over what they hear. And it can fit in a shirt pocket.

Juergen Selk, who wears his iPod daily for his commute from Brooklyn to Manhattan, said the benefits far outweigh any sensory eclipse. Not only does he keep up on a range of music from jazz to opera to cheesy '70s pop, he has recorded hours of Italian lessons so he can practice phrases softly on the subway.

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