Anthonares

Late last year I read “Radical Evolution” by Joel Garreau and got fairly excited about the prospect of the technological singularity we are supposedly approaching. Because I enjoy reading completely opposing viewpoints (with the exception of most of the scarcely-readable screed that passes for political writing), I picked up a copy of “Better Off : Flipping the Switch on Technology” by Eric Brende. In it, Brende chronicles an eighteen-month stint living in a psuedo-Amish community somewhere in the midwest. I am an unabashed supporter of the fundamental idea that science and technology are helping us progress to a better state. Brende argues the opposite thesis: unthinking adoption of mechanized technology has separated humans from each other, the land they once knew, and the societies that mutual hard work helped to foster.

The book itself is a great read. An interesting narrative moves the book along nicely and provides the framework upon which Brende makes his arguments. The characters are surprisingly well developed for a non-fiction persuasive piece, and Brende himself comes across neither preachy or strident, but introspective and open.

Brende’s main points are that the use of machines and some of the products of technology, such as TVs and computers, create more work than they purport to save. Consider the effect of the car: since its introduction, suburban sprawl has absolutely necessitated its ownership by most Americans. The cost is becoming more clear to us every year. Gas prices are rising, global warming is occurring, and commutes just get longer and longer. Americans now spend more time in their cars commuting than they are vacationing from work. And that’s just the average. We all know people with 1+ hour commutes each way; those people literally spend more time driving than visiting with the families they work to support. Without cars, people are forced to live closer and interact more frequently. Public mass transit enables long commutes to distant suburbs. Those suburbs, without cars to aid in sprawl, could be more densely built and thus encourage walking and biking rather than driving to the corner store.

Though Brende really doesn’t touch on the subject very much, he does not allow television in his house, nor does he own a computer or video-playing device. His children must be quite insulated from the prevailing culture. But is that so bad? Is the mass-media culture something that you or I would want our children immersed in? It does one thing well: provide entertainment. But, in so doing it usurps the role of more fundamental social interactions that are required for entertainment in its absence. Is an evening’s television the equal of an evening spent playing cards or pick-up sports with neighbor children?

Initially, Brende seems to approach his stay with the Amish as a search for the “natural” level of technology in one’s life. This, of course, is ridiculous. The Amish use technology that is, in most cases, simply earlier in the curve of innovation (though in many cases further along that we would think) than those employed in the wider Western world. Their culture has had time to assimilate these tools. Divisions of labor and understanding of the role of technology in the community has arisen there over generations of relative stasis. Contrast that with our modern world where I am using technologies that did not exist or were very significantly different than I was young. The internet, email, and cellular phones are in the process of fundamentally transforming society. But, before they finish their job, another technology will come along to supplant them.

To some, this advancement seems out of control. Those people are mostly in the older generations, at least in my experience. The younger generations not only accept new technologies, but better adapt to ones that did not exist when they were raised. In other words, one’s familiarity with the rate of change in technology may be what’s more important to feeling comfortable in a rapidly changing world. But, if we truly are approaching a technological singularity, then that rate of change is itself becoming ever steeper. I am familiar and comfortable with a rate that may be far slower than my children, and perhaps incomprehensibly tortesian to my grandchildren (I have no offspring, as of yet, just to be clear). Will I one day reach for the reins of progress and vainly implore that they be pulled back?

Let’s take a deep breath for a second and step off this exponential train of development. Importantly, this is where Brende’s experience have the most to offer. In the end, he reaches no conclusion about an ultimate level of technology to which humanity should aspire. Rather, he presents informal guidelines. Technology that interferes with community should be limited. Technology that reduces man to an unskilled laborer is undesirable. Contemplation and leisure are not the enemies of productivity, but rather are the base upon which a more deeply-fulfilled existence can rest. Labor-saving devices that end up reducing our time to experience those two things will ultimately require more labor than they save (think cars and suburban sprawl). Most importantly, technology is the servant of man and not the other way around.

Who really uses that counter-top rotisserie, or even their bread machines (sure, there are some ardent users, including my wife and I, but does it really actually save time over kneading and baking?)? Remember how microwaves were supposed to allow pot roasts and turkeys to be cooked more efficiently, just like the modern convection oven. I’ll bet that most folks just use their microwaves to reheat the leftovers they brought home from the restaurant the night before because they didn’t have time to cook a decent meal. And who hasn’t found themselves bending over backwards to use some mechanized gizmo solely to justify its purchase? I’ll even strike deep into the heart of modern American techno-culture: sure, the iPod allows you to listen to your music anywhere and envelop yourself in an auditory cocoon, but, how many relationships never started because of those white cords? How many casual conversations never brightened grey days? Is the iPod really improving our lives, or is its use merely alienating us from each other?

We should keep that in mind as the 21st century offers us technological opportunities that marketers will try and convince us we need. Wearable computers, retinal display devices, cell-phone earplants, iPod brainplants, etc. We’ll be treated to dolby infinity.1 surround, and TV resolutions that will be limited only by the nanotubes that illuminate their displays. But if we have to work 60, 70, 80 hours a week to buy them all and stuff full our 3,000+ sq. ft. homes, we’ll all be poorer.