Techno-Civilization and Its Discontents (The downside of mind-numbing technology.)

The American Prowler ^ | 6/20/2006 | Brandon Crocker

[nickcarraway]

When I am at my bank, filling out deposit slips in the management of my vast financial empire, I often think that by adding up my check totals by hand rather than using the calculator stationed by the deposit slips, that I am preserving the ways of the Ancients. This feeling was reinforced when, not long ago, I was in the office of a recent hire who asked me to take a look at some problems that his sister-in-law was having difficulty with in an undergraduate business class. One question pertained to discounting cash flows (the mathematical expression of the notion that a dollar today is worth more than a dollar to be received next year). Now I'm no math wiz, but the mathematical formula for discounting cash flows is not complicated and pretty intuitive, but when I started writing it down (thinking that it would throw some light on the point of the question) my colleague (an accounting major of fairly recent vintage) looked at me as if I were writing Chinese characters. He handed me a trusty HP12C calculator and said, "Why don't you just use this?" I have it on good authority from an elementary school principal that children are still taught how to do math without a calculator. But sometimes I wonder.

Though we may still be teaching math, I recently heard on the radio that some school districts are discontinuing the teaching of cursive writing because there is "no demand" for it in "the real world." I prefer a real world, however, in which personal correspondence is not so impersonal that the only contact the writer makes with the paper is to feed it in to a printer and sign (or print) a name at the bottom. Granted, most people would no doubt prefer that I type out or e-mail my letters to them, since my scrawl is barely legible. But it is always nice to receive something written in a neat cursive hand (usually written by a female, for such skill is one of the many differences between the sexes). Will this be a pleasure unknown in the future? Will people need to take their laptops and their Blackberry's everywhere, or be forced to print their thoughts (if they write at all)?

A couple years ago I experienced one of the greatest tragedies that can befall modern man: Hard Drive Failure. Or at least that's what I initially thought. It turned out to be a bad memory chip, and my life was back in order in a few days. Though I have managed to complicate my life to the extent that I can no longer do my own taxes, I know enough about tax law to be dangerous and volunteer to prepare the taxes of my siblings every year. And here I was, less than a month before April 15 with my computer, loaded with my tax software, inoperable. I was in a panic before I realized that only a few years before, I was doing these tax returns by hand, no sweat (or not much). So why the panic?

That's the problem with modern techno-society. We have allowed ourselves to become dependent on technology to the extent that it has reduced our confidence and, indeed, our ability, to perform basic tasks without it. Just as the Welfare State has nefariously bred dependency and atrophied pride, self-reliance, and the work ethic in many, the marvels of modern technology are a lure to mental and physical sloth.

I am one of the "bridge" group that grew up in a world without personal computers and managed to get through four years of an undergraduate education using a device known as a typewriter. But from graduate school on, I've ridden the wave of technology, moving from 5 ¼" floppies to CDs. My career, to a large degree, has depended on my mastering a number of computer programs. But I have also been slow to adopt the techno-lifestyle. I've never planned my life on a Palm Pilot, or used a TIVO, or touched an iPod. I refused the offer of my company to provide me with a "Blackberry" -- a horrible device that makes you reachable by e-mail almost everywhere you are -- and it was only a few years ago, bowing to the needs of business travel, that I got a cell phone. But I only turn it on when I'm out of pager range or when I want to call somebody, and I still haven't set up its voice mailbox.

Now don't get me wrong. I'm not writing this in a cabin in Montana with a copy of Al Gore's Earth in the Balance beside me. I love e-mail, scanners, $59 color ink-jet printers, and all that stuff for what they can allow me to do that I couldn't do before. What I rue about all these neat inventions is the basic things they are causing people to stop doing -- like simple arithmetic by hand or in their head, or writing letters by hand. What will we do if the power goes out -- or if a hostile power uses an electro-magnetic bomb that military planners are now fretting about that could render all our computerized gadgets useless? How will we entertain ourselves, how will we correspond with each other, how will we balance our checkbooks?

Americans play video golf, video football, video car-jacking, and even video solitaire. No wonder more Americans are obese than ever before. But it's more than just our bodies that are getting flabby. Every so often we should all put down the calculator and turn off the computer and do things with pen and paper and with our minds, if only to prove to ourselves that we still can do the things that our primordial ancestors who lived prior to 1985 did every day.

Brandon Crocker is a frequent contributor to The American Spectator on-line living in San Diego.

[Mamzelle]

I carry a fountain pen in my handbag. I'm amused when someone wants to 'borrow a pen" because they expect some throwaway thing, and then they get ink all over them and become annoyed with me.

A fountain pen does carry a nostalgia from my early elementary years, in that dinosaur age when one was expected to write in an attractive way. I had one teacher with a genuine Spencerian script--

[Jaysun]

When I'm done I yell "Fetch me a concubine, my chattle, I need pleasuring"! I then beat them mercilessly with the same unabridged dictionary I just used to look up the spelling of "chattle".

The plump strumpet that's been sucking my toes just stopped to say that you must have meant "chattel" instead of "chattle". Not to worry brother, I split her perverse lips with a swift Karate Kid style crane kick.

I usually only need several sets of conjoined twins to attend to my perversions, which are many.

[Jaysun]

And I bet your chalkboard has a spell/grammar checker, doesn't it?

But is it flameproof?

It has none of those things and is quite flammable. I only bought it because it used to belong to Charles Nelson Reilly, who received it as a Christmas gift from Charles Manson.

[Jaysun]

I have found carving my thoughts in stone tables with a chisel and mallet give me sufficient time to muse about what I'm writing. And the effort involved in error correction has greatly enhanced my spelling and grammer skills.

That requires serious talent. I could never do that because my hands shake uncontrollably, perhaps because I enjoy crack cocaine more than most.

[upchuck]

I could never do that because my hands shake uncontrollably, perhaps because I enjoy crack cocaine more than most.

Crack cocaine is for kids. Be an adult and engage in a little meth. You'll never even think about crack again.

[Jaysun]

Crack cocaine is for kids. Be an adult and engage in a little meth. You'll never even think about crack again.

I'm a reasonable man and I'm always willing to try new things. Where does one purchase this meth?

[Erasmus]

Oh, yeah? Well, I just entered this post using my Vibroplex.

So there.

+++-< }B^)

[upchuck]

Assuming you local crack dealer has some entrepreneurial spirit, that may be a source.

If not, maybe some of the people here can help you.

[Jaysun]

Maybe my local crack dealer, Werner Von MethLab, can help. Dear God, one apparently has to be willing to sacrifice his or her face to enjoy meth. Oh well, we can't have it all.

[Jaysun]

Oh, yeah? Well, I just entered this post using my Vibroplex.
So there.


Hmmm, Morse Code. Impressive. You aren't the famed Erasmus that rewrote the entire Bible in braille using only a few tubes of glue and a bucket of poppy seeds, are you?

If so, let me say that I'm honored to meet you. And may I have your autograph (in poppy seed braille, of course)?

[driftless]

"ridiculous"

I don't think you've grasped his argument. Which is the more we let machines do for us, the less we are able to do for ourselves. He is not arguing against all machines. In fact he lists a number of them that he loves. But I agree with his basic premise that if a person depends on machines to do everything, what happens when the machines break down? He, like me, believes that too many people are allowing machines to run their lives. Spectators instead of participants.

Along with the wonderful inventions, we should try to maintain our own intellectual strengths. Physical pursuits as well. I can buy fire wood at the store, but personally chopping wood will reap extra benefits not acquired by merely purchasing the already choppped and bundled wood. (oh, my aching back!) Incidentally thanks to a youthful interest in baseball statistics, I can add up a column of numbers in my head faster than I can with a calculator.

[robowombat]

'Which is the more we let machines do for us, the less we are able to do for ourselves.'

This is very obvious in maritime navigation. The advent of GPS has made being able to use a sextant and do the necessary position finding calculations obsolete. Many position finding systems (such as ships radar) have been developed to the point where using them is almost akin to the automatic calculation features on many cash registers.
The decline in a requirement for navigational skills has led to a spillage in printed directions and texts. I was examining the '200th Anniversary' (2002) edition of 'Bowditch's American Practical Navigator' now issued by NIMA. Comparisons with the 1962 and 1984 editions are interesting. The 2002 edition comes in at just under 900 pages, however a quick check reveals that the margins are wider and the type face several points bigger than earlier editions. A number of chapters describing theory and practice of navigation have been combined, shortened and simplified. The overall level of writing has also been stepped down to what seems to be the military '8th grade comprehension standard' (not sarcasm this is the written comprehension standard that has been in place for some years for many instructions and directions.) The 1984 edition is 1400 plus pages in its first volume with a nearly 1000 page volume two which is largely although by no means exclusively devoted to tables and charts which can be kept updated now more easily on the net. The 1962 edition runs to about 1500 pages including over 200 pages of tables.
Comparing the content of the 2002 edition to earlier editions permits one to draw some conclusions. Any small craft sailor planning to use the 2002 edition as a guide for practical navigation will find that many concepts are described in such a summary or general was to be virtually useless. Also readers are constantly referred to various very simplified automated navigation systems which are available only on larger craft. Finally, the discussion of how to locate position by using a sextant is treated in a much shorter and simpler manner in which anyone trying to teach themselves this skill will not be able to learn beyond some very relaxed standards of doing so. This reflects the decline of the sextant as a navigational tool to a virtual item of antiquarian interest. Certainly GPS and self regulating navigational and haven finding devices make the sailors life both more comfortable and safer. However one wonders what would happen if GPS were significantly interrupted without warning.

[Lazamataz]

If this man is nostalgic let him scribble away. Many, including myself, still write letters. But it's a bit absurd to bemoan the faster and easier in favor of what he sees as romantic. People still know how to do arithmetic and write the letters of the alphabet. To spend 30 minutes doing what can be done in half the time with a small machine is ridiculous.

If G-d meant us to fly and travel down the road at 60 MPH and eat hot pop-tarts, He'd have given us anti-grav and laser-beam eyes.

[neb52]

You make a very good point. I have always felt it was necessary to learn things the hard way first. Which gives you a better understanding of how it works and how you could support/repair it. In the IT field I see this a lot with companies that use for example Indians. The Indians know the new technology very well, but they don't know older still in use technology. This causes a problem for them to be able to get the older and newer technology to work together. Its an area that us Americans still enjoy a specialty in, but that want last as the older tech becomes ancient and the newer becomes the older.

[Erasmus]

Hmmm, Morse Code. Impressive. You aren't the famed Erasmus that rewrote the entire Bible in braille using only a few tubes of glue and a bucket of poppy seeds, are you?

No, but I do have The Last Supper on the side of my barn done in colored sunflower seeds.

I had to put a screen over it to keep the birds away.

[lesser_satan]

I'm presuming you'll retire to your vomitorium afterwards, where you'll offer the blood of lowborn commoners to your golden busts of Caligula and Bacchus.

[Jaysun]

I don't think you've grasped his argument. Which is the more we let machines do for us, the less we are able to do for ourselves. He is not arguing against all machines. In fact he lists a number of them that he loves. But I agree with his basic premise that if a person depends on machines to do everything, what happens when the machines break down? He, like me, believes that too many people are allowing machines to run their lives. Spectators instead of participants.

Along with the wonderful inventions, we should try to maintain our own intellectual strengths. Physical pursuits as well. I can buy fire wood at the store, but personally chopping wood will reap extra benefits not acquired by merely purchasing the already choppped and bundled wood. (oh, my aching back!) Incidentally thanks to a youthful interest in baseball statistics, I can add up a column of numbers in my head faster than I can with a calculator.

I'd agree with that point except to say that besides anecdotal evidence, there's no evidence to support the notion that machines are dumbing us down.

My grandfather forced us to use ledger books as kids (thank God) and taught us basic bookkeeping. So I too can add up a column of numbers in my head quite fast.

[Jaysun]

If G-d meant us to fly and travel down the road at 60 MPH and eat hot pop-tarts, He'd have given us anti-grav and laser-beam eyes.

Mum's the word, but he did give me anti gravity.

[Jaysun]

I'm presuming you'll retire to your vomitorium afterwards, where you'll offer the blood of lowborn commoners to your golden busts of Caligula and Bacchus.

I have a lead-reinforced Brinks truck drop me off inside my heavily fortified bunker, sixty floors below "Jaysun Town" (a small enclave where all of my employees live, comprised of row after row of squalid dirt-floored shacks the payments for which are deducted from their checks, and whatever is left over is given to them in the form of Jaysun-dollars which they can then spend at the Jaysun Town Market). My bunker consist of two rooms. The first room is an exact replica of the jungle room in Graceland. The other is a titanium vault which contains my bed and a television that plays "Eraserhead" on a perpetual loop.

Here's a never before seen picture of my jungle room. The titanium bedroom is off limits to all eyes except my own (I killed the workmen) and shall remain that way.



PS - You, sir, have a bizarre sense of humor.

.

[Jaysun]

No, but I do have The Last Supper on the side of my barn done in colored sunflower seeds.

I had to put a screen over it to keep the birds away.

Do you work with lentils? I'd like to commission a nude of myself. The last "artist" refused to compromise on the size of certain things and couldn't get my hair right.