Yes, I Love Technology, but...

If you hadn’t taken the time to notice, we are now living in the "technological age." I don’t now if that term has officially been adopted or penned by the hidden machine that labels the epochs & timelines for humankind, but I don’t think I am taking too large of an editorial leap here. Before I begin ripping on our techno-dependencies like some modern day Thoreau, I hereby acknowledge my blatant hypocrisy in doing so. I am as ate up with cell phones, HD TVs, high-speed connections, GPS units, and instant information as the next guy, but that doesn’t mean I can’t bitch about technology or wax philosophic about its importance.

I believe the impetus of technological innovations is to enrich our lives by making them easier, safer, and healthier. Who would argue that 2-ply toilet paper isn’t a wonderful achievement over industrial grade 1-ply or the Sears catalogs and corncobs that our forefathers endured? Yes, there would be some Eco-fundamentalists, who behind close doors squeeze the Charmin like the rest of us, that might preach that 2-ply is a waste of resources, but that’s another topic entirely. It would be an exercise in futility to debate the social and economic importance of essential modern conveniences like electricity, indoor plumbing, automobiles, or even TP. However, some hi-tech inventions are counterintuitive, making a once simple task more complicated than it needs to be, while others are dependent on a power source that isn’t always accessible. An old fashioned magnetic compass will get you out of the woods faster than a GPS once its battery goes dead.

We are constantly learning and re-learning new ways of performing old tricks or adapting to the latest and greatest way of doing business. There is little choice when it comes to technology; you learn it and move on or get left behind. In this regard technology is a polarizing monolith, driving deep barriers between generations and classes. Let’s go back to our friend Mr. 2-ply toilet paper; how much of the world’s total population in the year 2006 get to enjoy this "luxury" item? My guess would be less than 60%; and that’s just TP, I wonder how more important things like education and technical knowledge compare? A part of me realizes that it’s just part of life, that is, the reality of the haves and have-nots. Then there is the side of me that wonders if such expansive technological and educational voids between the classes and cultures of this world will not breed more discontent than is already well entrenched. Perhaps we’ll all catch up one day, but there seems to be no end to the process of improving and changing and computerizing. If you think that humanity is on the verge of achieving some sort of technical nirvana than you are as shortsighted as Mr. Charles Duell, a commissioner of the United States Patent Office, who in 1899 once said, "Everything that can be invented has already been invented." Each generation vainly believes that they have seen, done, and therefore know it all. I paraphrase Thomas Edison, who wrote, "We don’t know one millionth of one percent about anything." The wise would be wary of assuming this equation is in need of updating.

I can’t be convinced that more technology is the pathway to the easy life. I can honestly say my life is much more complicated now than it was just 10 years ago. As each innovation is introduced unto the world a bill in the mail seems to quickly follow. There is no appeasing America’s appetite for gadgets or consequently, credit. We are a nation of indebted tekkies. Meanwhile, a quiet dragon in the East is filling its belly by means of our own gluttony for techno-crap. We can only hope that the beast is content with its profits alone, but that is another topic for another day.

This alleged age of reason often leaves me empty, leaning heavily on an unwanted crutch. They say the world has gotten smaller and that information is only a click away, but that doesn’t mean you can’t still feel isolated and alone. Reliance on technology doesn’t make your existence easier; it just changes your perception of what is important. Looking back at my youth on the family farm, I realize how in tune I was with nature and how keen my senses were. I was able to involuntarily perceive a number of subtle ecological changes that precede a shift in the seasons. I could lose myself in the reflection of the forest canopy as it swayed with the rhythm of the creek that murmured over smooth limestone slabs just behind the farmhouse. Those simple days are what I miss, when all the entertainment I needed was out the front door.

I wish things were easier. I wish I had the wherewithal of Henry David Thoreau and give up my worldly possessions and build a log cabin on the banks of my own Walden Pond. Hasn't the futile process of paying bills, eking out a middle-class existence in front of an omnipresent illuminated screen, and hurtling anonymously through this world ever wakened the desire to regress back into a hunter/gatherer in you? Well, I think about it all the time, and not because I am contemplating a complete unplugging from the modern world, but only to take a break from it all for a spell.