Slashdot Mirror
The Mechanized Future
Michael J. Ross and Dan Sisson write "In our increasingly mechanized world, we repeatedly hear promises that every new digital product, computerized service, or other form of technology, will make our lives easier — bestowing greater leisure, health, and happiness. Yet are any of those promises being fulfilled? Are we not instead becoming slaves to the very "conveniences" that we struggle to master? These weighty questions are addressed by Steve Talbott in his book Devices of the Soul: Battling for Our Selves in an Age of Machines." Read below for the rest of Michael and Dan's review.
Devices of the Soul
author
Steve Talbott
pages
281
publisher
O'Reilly Media
rating
7
reviewer
Michael J. Ross and Dan Sisson
ISBN
0596526806
summary
A passionate warning against technology overtaking our lives
Published by O'Reilly Media in April 2007, under ISBNs 0596526806 and 978-0596526801, Devices of the Soul argues that we are now blindly accepting technology with little or no countervailing efforts or even awareness, and we are paying a terrible toll, both individually and as a society.
From the day a child of the 21st century begins his education, he is confronted with mind-numbing statistics, numbers, and facts via the computer — which he must accept. Perhaps even more important, he must master its "techniques" as the sine qua non tool to be successful in life. This is not a voyage of self-discovery; it is a demand by "the system" that the individual accept a way of viewing the world that invades, conquers, and ultimately controls his life. The child will learn most of what he knows with it, play with it, talk with it, and allow his thinking to be ruled by it — all because it is the magical machine that gives him access to the world's knowledge, e.g., the Internet.
By the time this child makes the transition from high school to college, he will be required to accept a curriculum that too often lacks meaning and content, that fails to allow him to satisfy his own curiosity about the challenges facing humanity, and is, moreover, expensive and will likely lead to indebtedness. There are few alternatives to this gauntlet, especially if one wishes to belong to the 'credentialed society', which determines modern man's measure of success.
Education is only the first stage in the numbing of our consciousness. What follows is built upon this edifice. Our acceptance of machines — ubiquitous in our everyday lives — provides our food, transportation, entertainment, information, and prestige — in sum, everything we need to function in modern society.
Talbott shows how the machines we use create a grand illusion, namely, that by having every technological gadget, we will save time and money, and be able to spend more time with our family and loved ones. However, that leisure time never materializes. The technology costs more, not less. Consequently, we find ourselves in a perpetual struggle to preserve a bare minimum of human emotions and instincts.
The next stage in the individual's life is integration into the mature world of the computerized economy, i.e., when he becomes a "stakeholder." He accepts a world that does away with human values and subordinates him to "market values." Furthermore, he is bound to lose his sense of privacy.
It follows that almost everyone willingly accepts that advancement in life and career increasingly requires having electronic conversations with machines — and eventually robots — that will never ask us what our personal assumptions and/or values are, and have no intentions of doing so. In short, our resistance to the machine fades. It is "far easier to assign the intelligence solely to the machine than to seek out those tortured pathways" to the human urges within us. Society itself, not just the individual, says Talbott, "is unsurprisingly assuming the character of our technology."
The outcome is grim: "Historically, there appears to be an element of tragedy in all this. We stumble along in ignorance and, by the time we realize the subtle ways our actions have caught up with us, the damage and loss are already irrevocable."
Technology expresses itself in numbers and computations divorced from human values. Efficiency is nearly the sole criterion by which modern corporations make decisions, and it is no accident that these two ideas, human values versus efficiency, are mutually exclusive. In objecting to the mess we humans have created, Talbott notes: "If you want human values, if you want qualitative distinctions, then your theoretical constructs must retain those values and distinctions every step of the way. The minute you allow them to collapse into number alone, you have no way to get back from there to the qualitative world."
Despite these tragic overtones, he argues that we can and must return to that qualitative world where we can realize our deepest human qualities. We can retain our humanity in connection to the natural world, despite using tools skillfully, as exemplified by the wily trickster Odysseus, as well as Tomo, a member of the Waorani Indians in the Amazon jungles of Ecuador who demonstrated phenomenal knowledge of his world.
His prescription for humanity's emergence from this present Dark Age also includes developing a strong sense of history. We must realize how other humans expressed their individuality, and realized their hopes and dreams. Despite the fact that Americans generally have little appreciation for or cognizance of history, there may come a time when reading history may be the only place to find models of human behavior that went against the technophilic grain.
Interspersed throughout his analysis, Talbott offers suggestions to arrest this headlong rush into a mechanized future. They tend to be general in nature, such as urging us to seek a sense of "place," and to engage in conversations with our fellow men (and even our machines) to remind them of our human needs. Echoing Edward Abbey, who attempted to alert us to the environmental disasters of the 1960's with books like The Monkey Wrench Gang, Talbott writes, "This may at times require us to throw a wrench into the machinery in order to serve the worthy human intentions behind it."
Despite Talbott's skills as a writer, the book, sadly, has some substantial flaws. Two of the most obvious are the overly long digressions into the stories of Jacques Lusseyran and Martha Beck, which admittedly are fascinating, but delay the presentation of more topical material. Furthermore, they suggest that Talbott is misidentifying the emotional power of those stories as proof of his arguments, and thus committing the common error of anecdotal evidence. Even worse, they border on romanticizing blindness and Down syndrome, respectively.
He also fails to address a major factor in our growing discontent with the Information Age: the nonstop ratcheting up of our expectations, driven largely by marketing on the seller side, and a lack of philosophic questioning on the consumer side.
A common pattern in the book is a deep criticism of any given aspect or consequence of technology, to the extent that Talbott appears to be arguing that we should do away with it completely. But he often then wraps up his analysis by briefly contradicting the earlier implication, and stating that he does not believe the phenomenon at issue should be eradicated. This schizophrenic reasoning mixes bold, blanket criticisms with assurances to the contrary. Yet one may argue that, with so much of current social discourse failing to question technology, its critics must never err with overly cautious warnings.
There are other problems in his analysis: He invests much hope in what he terms "conversation," "meaning," and "value" — not clearly specified, and yet spoken of highly. He fears machine intelligence (and perhaps rightly so), and doubts its viability, but fails to understand its potential for emergence. Even though a former computer programmer, he does not seem to understand the value of abstraction, and the possibility that it can be used beneficially, without being considered the only source of important knowledge. Lastly, it is odd that he does not cite the pioneering work of a well-known predecessor, Jacques Ellul, in The Technological Society.
Nonetheless, the issues that Talbott raises are of critical importance — so much so that they make his lapses of logic that much more maddening. Because so much is at stake, our efforts at analyzing, understanding, and solving these problems, must be proportionally energetic and effective. Technophiles may dismiss his entire effort based upon the book's weaknesses, and consequently miss out on the valuable gist of his viewpoint. Similarly, impatient readers in our age of limited attention spans, might not make it through the aforesaid tangents, and likewise miss out.
The issues that he discusses should be raised more often and more loudly, with broader acceptance and expansion of the debate and its importance. Otherwise, we will continue our robotic march deeper into a future that is controlled more by soulless devices, and less by skeptical humans. If we fail completely to change course, we may be saddled with a life that is intolerable to the human spirit.
Devices of the Soul is an insightful, disturbing, imperfect, eloquent, and important contribution to what may ultimately become the most critical debate in the intensifying conflict between humans and our technological creations: Humans may survive, but will our humanity?
Michael J. Ross is a Web developer, freelance writer, and the editor of PristinePlanet.com's free newsletter. Dan Sisson is an adjunct professor at Eastern Washington University, where he has taught technology courses for the past eight years; he is an authority on Thomas Jefferson, is author of The American Revolution of 1800, and is currently building and living in a replica of Monticello.
You can purchase Devices of the Soul from amazon.com. Slashdot welcomes readers' book reviews -- to see your own review here, read the book review guidelines, then visit the submission page.
From the day a child of the 21st century begins his education, he is confronted with mind-numbing statistics, numbers, and facts via the computer — which he must accept. Perhaps even more important, he must master its "techniques" as the sine qua non tool to be successful in life. This is not a voyage of self-discovery; it is a demand by "the system" that the individual accept a way of viewing the world that invades, conquers, and ultimately controls his life. The child will learn most of what he knows with it, play with it, talk with it, and allow his thinking to be ruled by it — all because it is the magical machine that gives him access to the world's knowledge, e.g., the Internet.
By the time this child makes the transition from high school to college, he will be required to accept a curriculum that too often lacks meaning and content, that fails to allow him to satisfy his own curiosity about the challenges facing humanity, and is, moreover, expensive and will likely lead to indebtedness. There are few alternatives to this gauntlet, especially if one wishes to belong to the 'credentialed society', which determines modern man's measure of success.
Education is only the first stage in the numbing of our consciousness. What follows is built upon this edifice. Our acceptance of machines — ubiquitous in our everyday lives — provides our food, transportation, entertainment, information, and prestige — in sum, everything we need to function in modern society.
Talbott shows how the machines we use create a grand illusion, namely, that by having every technological gadget, we will save time and money, and be able to spend more time with our family and loved ones. However, that leisure time never materializes. The technology costs more, not less. Consequently, we find ourselves in a perpetual struggle to preserve a bare minimum of human emotions and instincts.
The next stage in the individual's life is integration into the mature world of the computerized economy, i.e., when he becomes a "stakeholder." He accepts a world that does away with human values and subordinates him to "market values." Furthermore, he is bound to lose his sense of privacy.
It follows that almost everyone willingly accepts that advancement in life and career increasingly requires having electronic conversations with machines — and eventually robots — that will never ask us what our personal assumptions and/or values are, and have no intentions of doing so. In short, our resistance to the machine fades. It is "far easier to assign the intelligence solely to the machine than to seek out those tortured pathways" to the human urges within us. Society itself, not just the individual, says Talbott, "is unsurprisingly assuming the character of our technology."
The outcome is grim: "Historically, there appears to be an element of tragedy in all this. We stumble along in ignorance and, by the time we realize the subtle ways our actions have caught up with us, the damage and loss are already irrevocable."
Technology expresses itself in numbers and computations divorced from human values. Efficiency is nearly the sole criterion by which modern corporations make decisions, and it is no accident that these two ideas, human values versus efficiency, are mutually exclusive. In objecting to the mess we humans have created, Talbott notes: "If you want human values, if you want qualitative distinctions, then your theoretical constructs must retain those values and distinctions every step of the way. The minute you allow them to collapse into number alone, you have no way to get back from there to the qualitative world."
Despite these tragic overtones, he argues that we can and must return to that qualitative world where we can realize our deepest human qualities. We can retain our humanity in connection to the natural world, despite using tools skillfully, as exemplified by the wily trickster Odysseus, as well as Tomo, a member of the Waorani Indians in the Amazon jungles of Ecuador who demonstrated phenomenal knowledge of his world.
His prescription for humanity's emergence from this present Dark Age also includes developing a strong sense of history. We must realize how other humans expressed their individuality, and realized their hopes and dreams. Despite the fact that Americans generally have little appreciation for or cognizance of history, there may come a time when reading history may be the only place to find models of human behavior that went against the technophilic grain.
Interspersed throughout his analysis, Talbott offers suggestions to arrest this headlong rush into a mechanized future. They tend to be general in nature, such as urging us to seek a sense of "place," and to engage in conversations with our fellow men (and even our machines) to remind them of our human needs. Echoing Edward Abbey, who attempted to alert us to the environmental disasters of the 1960's with books like The Monkey Wrench Gang, Talbott writes, "This may at times require us to throw a wrench into the machinery in order to serve the worthy human intentions behind it."
Despite Talbott's skills as a writer, the book, sadly, has some substantial flaws. Two of the most obvious are the overly long digressions into the stories of Jacques Lusseyran and Martha Beck, which admittedly are fascinating, but delay the presentation of more topical material. Furthermore, they suggest that Talbott is misidentifying the emotional power of those stories as proof of his arguments, and thus committing the common error of anecdotal evidence. Even worse, they border on romanticizing blindness and Down syndrome, respectively.
He also fails to address a major factor in our growing discontent with the Information Age: the nonstop ratcheting up of our expectations, driven largely by marketing on the seller side, and a lack of philosophic questioning on the consumer side.
A common pattern in the book is a deep criticism of any given aspect or consequence of technology, to the extent that Talbott appears to be arguing that we should do away with it completely. But he often then wraps up his analysis by briefly contradicting the earlier implication, and stating that he does not believe the phenomenon at issue should be eradicated. This schizophrenic reasoning mixes bold, blanket criticisms with assurances to the contrary. Yet one may argue that, with so much of current social discourse failing to question technology, its critics must never err with overly cautious warnings.
There are other problems in his analysis: He invests much hope in what he terms "conversation," "meaning," and "value" — not clearly specified, and yet spoken of highly. He fears machine intelligence (and perhaps rightly so), and doubts its viability, but fails to understand its potential for emergence. Even though a former computer programmer, he does not seem to understand the value of abstraction, and the possibility that it can be used beneficially, without being considered the only source of important knowledge. Lastly, it is odd that he does not cite the pioneering work of a well-known predecessor, Jacques Ellul, in The Technological Society.
Nonetheless, the issues that Talbott raises are of critical importance — so much so that they make his lapses of logic that much more maddening. Because so much is at stake, our efforts at analyzing, understanding, and solving these problems, must be proportionally energetic and effective. Technophiles may dismiss his entire effort based upon the book's weaknesses, and consequently miss out on the valuable gist of his viewpoint. Similarly, impatient readers in our age of limited attention spans, might not make it through the aforesaid tangents, and likewise miss out.
The issues that he discusses should be raised more often and more loudly, with broader acceptance and expansion of the debate and its importance. Otherwise, we will continue our robotic march deeper into a future that is controlled more by soulless devices, and less by skeptical humans. If we fail completely to change course, we may be saddled with a life that is intolerable to the human spirit.
Devices of the Soul is an insightful, disturbing, imperfect, eloquent, and important contribution to what may ultimately become the most critical debate in the intensifying conflict between humans and our technological creations: Humans may survive, but will our humanity?
Michael J. Ross is a Web developer, freelance writer, and the editor of PristinePlanet.com's free newsletter. Dan Sisson is an adjunct professor at Eastern Washington University, where he has taught technology courses for the past eight years; he is an authority on Thomas Jefferson, is author of The American Revolution of 1800, and is currently building and living in a replica of Monticello.
You can purchase Devices of the Soul from amazon.com. Slashdot welcomes readers' book reviews -- to see your own review here, read the book review guidelines, then visit the submission page.
I think it would break it down to two possibilities: upper class those who can fix the robots or create new models, lower class those who cannot.
Or upper class who own the robots, lower class who do not.
ccalam - acoustic versions of new songs.
As to the consumerism run rampant in our society, there IS a lot of inane and mindless chatter in the media we can partake of daily. A simple solution to that problem, and I believe that most thinking people will figure this out, is simply to turn it off. You don't have to listen to the endless barrage of encouragement to consume, and you don't have to teach your children to become mindless young consumers, either. If someone else wants to raise their families differently that's really none of your concern either. Maybe they're happier that way.
As to Robots in the future, if we create another form of intelligence in the future we should not treat it as there to serve us. I think that part of what makes us uneasy about the idea is the implicit view that robots will be our slaves. If it is self aware then we should allow it to have its own goals, hopes and dreams. We should not enslave them any more than we enslave our own children. Hopefully they'll have a similar view...
I'm trying to teach myself to set people on fire with my mind... Is it hot in here?
Actually, this is an old, old problem.
The ancient Greeks observed that if happiness is the result of having all of your wants satisfied, the surest path to happiness is to discipline your wants.
Philosophy is a pasttime of the wealthy. Technological and social progress have created a society where almost everybody is, compared to the helots of ancient times, wealthy. Quite ordinary people now find themselves dealing with detritus produced by a life of unexamined wealth and consumption.
So, this is not a problem of technology per se; it is only that mass produced technology is one of the most abundant and affordable luxuries of our soceity. The medieval sin of gula or "gluttony" is not simply about gross overeating, it is about compulsive and unreasoning consumption of every kind, which happens to be the cornerstone of our consumer economy. The only reason we think of this in terms of food only is that food is the one overindulgence available to the rich of every society and technological level. Note that food gluttony does not imply massive consumption, it can also be characteristic of excessive delicacy or daintiness. This fits technological gluttony particularly well.
So, it is probably incorrect to call this an "intensifying" conflict. It is more of a "broadening" conflict: broadened to include more classes of peoples and desires than before.
Post may contain irony: discontinue use if experiencing mood swings, nausea or elevated blood pressure.
An easy life isn't a question of work or prosperity but of philosophy. If you feel you need to be ahead of every trend, the center of attention, or the richest kid on the block, then chances are you will be forever working and never satisfied. If, on the other hand, you can recognize that life will always require some amount of work to take care of the essentials and can then settle down when the work is done to enjoy the things you have, then the "easy life" is there whenever you want it. Advances like the washing machine to the internet really can save you time, but if you're always moving then you probably won't notice.
Well, sort of. The US school system is most definitely still a product of the Industrial Era, everything from the Summer Vacation to the majority of course material is a vestige of its Industrial Era roots. Summer vacation was used because so much of the country was rural and family farm centric that the children were needed during the summer to work the fields during the critical growing seasons. Our high schools education is still based on teaching people how to be good manufacture workers requiring only a basics of math and science with the focus more on being institutionalized units in a large system. Some of this is being changed, but very slowly. Very few charter schools and complete programs are available which have completely re-done the thinking of how and what to teach students. We are no longer a manufacturing society as we once were in the turn of the century to the 1960's and even 1970's. We now need to focus on teaching things like the arts to develop free thinking individuals. People who will ask the question "Why"?, and others who can answer it with something other then "because".
We were all warned a long time ago that MS products sucked, remember the Magic 8 Ball said, "Outlook not so good"
By your logic, there are less jobs now than there were in 1793, which would indicate that there are more than 5.5 billion people on this planet who have no jobs, assuming everyone who was alive in 1793 had a job.
Damn you Eli Whitney! Damn yooooooouuuu!
What really happened is, Eli Whitney invented the cotton gin, creating a huge surplus of cotton, reviving the slave industry so they could grow more cotton, kickstarting modern spinning and weaving factories, which produced more clothes, which went to more stores, etc.
At every step in the process, extra jobs were created, and not just a few, but thousands and thousands. People flocked to the factories to work, and why? Because it paid a hell of a lot better than subsistence farming. Sure, a lot of the new jobs sucked, and you know what? We replaced 'em with machines, and those machines created new jobs.
And yea, robotic fruit pickers. You ever picked fruit? It sucks. You bust your ass in the hot sun, toting huge baskets of fruit around, and you gotta hustle because the stuff starts rotting instantly. Hot, sweaty, miserable work. My heart doesn't bleed for people not having to do that anymore! I used to cut tobacco when I was a kid and it was still a popular cash crop; that is about the most miserable thing I've ever done in my whole life. Do I give a damn that people don't grow as much tobacco as they used to? Hell no!
People who romanticize fruit picking, and cotton picking, and god, cotton combing like had to be done before the cotton gin, have no fricking clue what they're talking about. Go do that stuff for a year as your sole source of income, and then you can come talk about how wonderful it is.
ad logicam Claiming a proposition is false because it was presented as the conclusion of a fallacious argument.
I think in many situations, where human incompetence abounds, people would welcome automated replacements. I would love to go to McDonalds, enter my order on a keypad, swipe my debit card and have my full tray pop out a slot in a minute or two. No forgotten sauce, no other screwups. Same with the wal-mart checkout. Give RFID a couple of years and watch the self checkout lanes (which are a problem of design, but also the customers), as well as the regular checkout lanes dissapear. Load up your cart, walk out the door, everything in your cart is totaled up and deducted from your debit card. Retailers would love it, it would save them millions in cashier pay.
"Sic Semper Tyrannosaurus Rex."
So true. I turned off cable TV a few years back and have never missed it. We watch videos and dvd's and that's plenty. I won't say that there's not still some clever programming out there because I'm sure there is, but the other things in my life that have taken their place are infinitely more nourishing, and I know longer waste my time and energy (attention) 'surfing' the sh*t for something of interest. There is enough audio-visual 'interest' on Netflix alone to feed that bug for many lifetimes.
Nutshell: I have lost (in large part if not completely) my fear of silence.
The Fear of Silence is what plagues most of the people I know who are 'hyper-connected' and going nowhere fast. Lots of flash, sizzle and 'choices', almost none of them meaningful or nourishing, but rather chaotic and vampyiric, sucking up our time and attention in almost every area, physical and otherwise, of our lives.
Technology is quickly reaching a point where the 'cost of access' is more than the monthly bill. With the first wave of true nanotechnology about to crest, terms like 'computer virus' will take on much more dangerous and invasive connotations, and 'privacy' will utterly and completely be a relic of the past. We will be able to Google each other's private lives (and privates ; ) with near-realtime accuracy.
On the plus side, it will be egalitarian. The hammer with which you can 'smite' (humiliate/swindle/blackmail) me can as easily be used against you.
Interesting times ahead. Relax, keep your chin up and focus on what's important to you. And take the 'vampire' analogy to heart. We are responsible for the consequences of whom and what we invite into our homes/lives.
**>>BELCH
Although I have no issue with multiple similar texts spanning the same topic, the fact that he doesn't reference (as far as the summary goes) Kaczynski's seminal contribution makes me somewhat wary of this author's breadth and credibility.
A lot of academics will outright refuse to even read Kaczynski's work on account of the fact that he blew some of their fellow academics up.
Kaczynski made a huge mistake in blowing people up; it effectively restricted the distribution of the story he had to impart.
I read the 'Unabomber manifesto' when I was doing 'philosophy of social science'; my lecturer would not read it and had I referenced it in my essays I would have got a big fat F (for 'failure' not 'fantastic').
In the free world the media isn't government run; the government is media run.
Well, the pizza they bought as a freshman required the employment of several people (pizza maker, delivery person, etc). If the pizza was delivered the purchase of the pizza required the use of an automobile, gas, oil, etc. The delivery of the pizza also supported the auto maintenance industry, etc. The making of the pizza supported the dairy industry for the cheese, agriculture for the ingredients making the sauce and dough and possibly the meat industry for meats on the pizza. Do you now see how our country's economy is highly dependent on the amount of things that people buy? Even if they cannot afford the items that they buy everything will collapse if people stop spending, however most people can't really afford to spend the amount that business wants, therefore we are dependent on credit.
No, not that kind of wealth. Debtors (especially students and recent grads) may have a negative net worth, but they still have most of the luxuries of modern living -- often a small but reliable income, housing, heat and air conditioning, cheap food, computer access, e-mail accounts, cell phones, etc. Debt is really what makes that possible: without debt to support you, if you run out of resources, you starve.
The economy doesn't particularly have emotions or values (part of what the book seems to be about). Banks support the culture of debt, and overall, they profit from it, incidentally crushing some imprudent consumers in the process. Some societies make this economic issue into a moral one as well, and that's where death/prison/slavery come in. But here, technology has made widespread debt possible by making credit as readily available as it is today. Without credit cards (for example), you'd have to bargain with an individual each time you borrowed money, and it'd be difficult for a lender to set up a safe situation with interest, monthly billing, and almost entirely automated accounting.
As the grandparent insightfully described, modern life -- even with debt -- is full of luxuries where 500 years ago the equivalent comfort would have only been available to a small number of aristocrats. If you're reading Slashdot, you're probably not a starving subsistence farmer. If you're railing against the mechanization of modern life, especially without having taken the time to read and cite Pirsig's "Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance," then it's clear you've reached such a level of comfort in your life that you can contemplate actually giving up some of these modern luxuries in exchange for a closer look at an unnameable Quality threading through humanity.
Since this book is so weak, I'm going to try a useful explanation of the dangers of technology.
Namely, that the German Jews didn't have guns. And the French didn't have tanks. And Belgium didn't have the Maginot line.
In other words, technology is the enabler of facism. Throughout the 1950's, the Russian people viewed Stalin as a hero, even as he slaughtered millions. Why? Because radio and newspapers told them so.
It's only when technology filters down to the lower levels of society that the dangers of misuse are tempered by equal-access. Any new technology is inherently proto-facist, especially weapons and media, i.e. the internet.
Who first got rich on the internet? Large corporations who already had data centers and programming staff. Next in line is the government, who finally figured out how to build large data centers.
Notice any cross-continental wars going on right now? Coincidence?
The whole paradigm of "Battling for SELF" is a fallacy, it's logically flawed. Who's battling for that self... who wins, who loses? To whom or what are you loosing yourself? How can you lose yourself to something outside yourself, without having given yourself away in the first place? If you are at battle with yourself, then you have already lost.
Technology is a tool. You don't lose yourself to a hammer, unless perhaps you foolishly split your own cranium with it. Even then it's not the hammer to which you were lost, but your own foolishness or carelessness. The problem never was the tool. It's always been the tool user. The distinction between the one who builds with the hammer and another who bludgeons with it. The hammer is never the issue, and the inherent problems surrounding the tool have always been and continue to be deeply human. That's been the case since paleolythic times and our lot, whether the tool is a flint knife or a thermonuclear device.
The difficulties facing us are the problems created by amplification. Our tools amplify our strength, our speed, our intelligence. However that amplification is indescriminate. The gun doesn't care if it's used to feed a village or slaughter that village. The act of amplification without the wisdom of foresight to manage the products of that amplification are the issues we now face. Our primate brains are driven by emotions, and among the strongest is survival. The want to control, the drive to horde, the impulse to dominate, these are all ways that our primate forebearers survived. These very same impulses amplified bring us to the brink of our own undoing. When men take the want of control, the desire to horde and own, the impulse to dominate to their insane technologically amplified limits, the world we have today isn't just understandable, it's unavoidable. Look at corporate business, look at our governments, look at our churches, corrupted and subjugated by a powerful wealthy few, playing out their primate drives amplified a billion-fold to the detriment of all humanity and for that matter all life itself on this tiny planet.
The advent of automation should have freed millions to pursue lives of self fulfillment and discovery, increased productivity, wealth, and abundance should have resulted in a new era of growing human understanding and fulfillment. Instead an increasingly small goup of people become caught up in a never ending cycle of self consumption, and hedonism, power mongering, while the vast majority are left falling further and further into a life given by growing poverty, endless drugery, and little satisfaction. Every single measure of wealth and personal autonomy shows the masses have been robbed of the benefits generated by advances of technology. On the other hand, the weathy are far wealthier, wildly wealthier, rediculously wealthier. And instead of addressing the fundamentally broken, illogical, unsustainable nature of this paradigm, the naked apes in this society buy lottery tickets so they can become one of the dominant primates. Technology is a means. It will however make possible the extinction of our species if we don't do some very powerful evolving in the next decade or two.
We need to address our humanity, own it, be responsible for it, and be present to it's pervasive influence. We need to be conscious of our own tendencies, and begin the process of moving from the adolescence of our species to a technological adulthood. The wisdom of not using technology to inflict our egos upon one another and the surface of our world. The intelligence of not letting our tools and our basest instincts determine our future, or there will cetainly be no future save the fossil record.
Part of what it means to mature as a species is to begin looking at what serves our future, enobles our endeavors, honors that which is most magnificent in the human spirit, and ultimately preserves our posterity. Technology is not going away unless we go away. We can no longer serve the past, we must invent the future. To that end we stand at the threshold of tomorrow, hammer firmly in hand.
I wonder why you were modded down. This is how I understand the economy "works" as well, if you can call it working. It's a house of cards really.