It was a stormy day on Mount Olympus. Zeus was obviously peeved.
"It is unforgivable how these humans have abused The Gift," Zeus roared. "The Gift was intended to be a path to enlightenment, a portal to possibilities. It was meant to take them to great heights and set them far above all the other vermin on this sorry little planet. Instead, well, just look at how they have squandered The Gift!"
"It is true," Poseidon chimed in, picking his toes with his trident. "As the 21st century turned, we expected them to make great strides with The Gift. Instead, well, we've all seen what it has been reduced to among them. It is too shameful even to speak of it."
"Here, here," bellowed Apollo. "It is high time we took back The Gift. Turn back the dial and remind them of the old ways. Perhaps then they will learn to moderate their flagrant excesses."
Hermes was inclined to be lenient. "Come now," he pleaded. "Can it really be all that serious?"
"You surprise me, Hermes!" Zeus replied. "After all, this abuse of The Gift infringes mostly on your territory! Tell me, have you had as much work lately in your fetching and carrying capacity?"
"No, I haven't. You are right in that," Hermes admitted. "Come to think of it, I am rarely called upon by the mortals anymore."
Hera had been listening in silence. Finally she spoke up. "I probably should have told you this sooner, Zeus," she stammered. "But I received a text message from a mortal last week, and it was, well, I am afraid it was not altogether -- respectful."
"Mortals texting the gods?" Zeus thundered. "It has gone too far. My vote is cast. All in agreement?"
The deities responded with a hearty "Aye! We are in agreement."
"Then the thing is done!"
Thousands of miles below, all across the blue-green globe, the members of the human race suddenly and inexplicably found themselves without opposable thumbs.