One of the values of the wild is that helps put technology in its place. One way to understand this is to imagine yourself on a remote wooded ridge—say somewhere in the Ozarks. You’re suddenly engulfed by a violent thunderstorm, and while rushing to find shelter and safety, you find yourself in the company of two others in the same pursuit. Together you find a large overhanging rock ledge and crawl under it for cover. Finally at rest, you seek to begin a conversation but quickly find that verbal communication is hopeless—for the other two, because of some warp in time, are a French explorer from the late 1600′s and an Osage Indian from the 1200′s.
Because your cell phone doesn’t work where you are, it’s a mere fascination to the other two, and your iPod, while it creates a sense of awe, soon goes the way of all battery-powered devices and your companions’ wonder ceases. Your clothing, too, is a curiosity—as well as your eye-glasses. But when the storm soon shows that it is but the precursor of a cold front bringing with it several inches of snow, other modern devices, like your classic Swiss Army “knifelet” becomes of little value, and the frustration of leaving that lighter in your car several miles away only adds to your distress. What you discover is that the wild pretty much obliterates all the differences between the generations. But you are also soon delighted that you are not caught in these circumstances with, say, “important people” like Oprah, Michael Jackson, or Donald Tr
ump, who appear to have never have ventured more than a hundred yards away from a light switch and whose wilderness survival understanding could well be limited to the old joke that you start a fire by rubbing two boy scouts together.
I like to think that in the wilderness we meet our ancestors, because apart from our technology and heads full of technical knowledge, most of which is of little lasting significance, our common spiritual, emotional, physical, and relational needs have been the same since Adam left the Garden. Further, the importance of the health and fruitfulness of the creation is as important now as it ever was. They could not—and we cannot—remain healthy without good air, good water, good soil, adequate shelter, and health-giving foods—access to which modern technology may as much threaten as provide.
Dean and St. Francis
Having, as most of us do, a pride of the present, we find ourselves irrationally disconnected from the past—somehow thinking that no forebear would have much to offer us moderns. Yet if we did find ourselves in a raging thunderstorm on a wilderness mountaintop, we’d quickly learn that we are fundamentally no different from any other person living today—or yesterday. The fears, desires, and temptations of the first human beings were at heart no different from ours. The wild is one of the most important venues for compelling us to recognize what is most significant in life and what is common to all people of all ages.
In the same clothes, speaking the same language, I believe we’d find Saint Francis, William Penn, and John Muir certainly far wiser and astute companions on life’s journey than Bill Gates or Steve Jobs. Jacques Ellul reminds us of this in his book The Technological Bluff:
[Modern technology] causes us to live in a world of diversion and illusion. . . . It finally sucks us into this world by banishing all our ancient reservations and fears.
So among its many other values, a walk in the wild links us in an unbroken chain with all who have gone before. Valuing and preserving our natural parks and wilderness areas will permit our descendants to do the same.
See you outdoors!
Dean
February 23rd, 2009 at 10:27 pm
Anti-technological Romanticism always seems unrealistic to me. Technology has actually done wonders for us – my best friend would be dead of diabetes without modern medicine. My eyesight is so poor without glasses that I would have been functionally blind if I’d lived 500 years ago. Slavery didn’t go away anywhere until industrialization came into play. (Which explains why it’s still prevalent in parts of West Africa.) And so on.
Much as I enjoy history, I would have no desire to live in any earlier age. People who say they would want that probably should add “only if I could be part of the ruling class”, since until very recently in history life was nasty, brutish, and short.
I agree we’ve done much harm to the natural world, but technology is part of the solution to this – it’s not something to turn away from. And technology can actually assist our appreciation of the natural world. Nature doesn’t stop at what we can directly see with our eyes, for instance. The technology of both telescopes and microscopes can reveal nature’s beauty in ways unimagined by past generations.
I think that this is where much of the environmental movement runs into trouble – romanticism is not going to help solve any of our serious issues. But science and technology, applied with wisdom and love, might help tremendously.
February 23rd, 2009 at 11:21 pm
Some good thoughts here, Tyson. When I sojourn into the wilderness, I do appreciate returning to the comforts provided by modern technology. Technology is basically using our God-given creativity to do our work. “Basically” is the key word. The point I was seeking to make is that advanced technology does not make us advanced people. Technological progress is not human progress. And it sometimes takes a vacation away from technology for us to see its true value, and hopefully help us sort out what is truly basic and important in our technology. You may want to read the review of The Technological Bluff by following the link I posted to get the gist of Ellul’s argument. He would take Emerson’s observation more than a century ago, “Things are in the saddle and ride mankind,” and say, “Technology is in the saddle and rides mankind.” In one of my musings on technology and environmental degradation I once, according to my kids, got carried away and wrote this little ditty:
Screwtape’s Joy
Millions of creative hours spent, and
Millions of valuable dollars spent, and
Millions of tons of precious natural resources spent
— to develop a worthless product.
Millions of people manipulated to spend
Millions more of their valuable dollars to enable
Millions of priceless young people to spend
Millions of uncreative hours
— to accomplish nothing.
Nintendo, Play Station, Wii, et al.
Gift from the creative mind of hell
To the captive mind of man.
The Creator’s vice-regent
Dancing on the devil’s stick.
Overstatement? Maybe. I think Ellul would have appreciated it.
February 24th, 2009 at 3:27 am
Hi, Dean!
As someone who has gotten really serious about reducing the things I own, I don’t disagree that we are swamped by consumerism in America. But that’s not primarily a technology issue, it’s a social and economic issue. Your comments would be better directed towards America’s fascination with stuff instead of being directed at the stuff itself. It’s a people problem.
I’m reminded of a comment a friend of mine made one time: “Being rich won’t make you any happier than being poor. But, it’s better to be rich and unhappy than poor and unhappy.” I’ve heard that there are parts of Africa where “Are your children still living?” is a common greeting. Spiritually, morally, we’re not any better off than them. But, I’d rather have a world with low infant mortality rates if I can’t have anything else. And technology is how we get there. I think leaving things behind to get into nature is great, but that’s not because the things themselves are bad.
As a fan of the classical spiritual disciplines, I compare this to fasting. You don’t fast because food is bad – you set aside this perfectly good thing for a time to focus on other things. It’s not primarily about the food – it’s about being nourished by the Spirit. In the same way, getting out into nature should not be primarily about getting away from technology – it should be about getting out into nature.
I don’t own any of the gaming platforms mentioned in your poem, but I do think it’s a bit much to suggest that they are a “gift from the creative mind of hell”. (I’ll also agree with C.S. Lewis’ argument that the mind of hell is never creative – it only perverts things that others have created.) I think that there is nothing inherently bad about these devices, and I’ve had some good times with my family playing Wii.
Here’s a link to a brief post I wrote a while back about learning to get rid of things:
http://imploder.blogspot.com/2008/07/disquisition-on-acquisition-and.html
I hate it that I only seem to get around to commenting when I disagree with you, by the way. Normally, I read your posts, enjoy them, find them thought provoking, etc. I just don’t usually comment then. So please, don’t get the wrong impression – I really am a fan of this blog.
Peace,
-Tyson
February 24th, 2009 at 9:35 am
Tyson, you caused me to think about technology too, as I have been in the computer industry for over 40 years. Yep, worked on the “big iron” of yesteryear, and the industry has been good for me, paid bills and my disposition is a perfect match for the career I have worked hard for a long time in.
And as much as the technology has benefited me, it has also cause hardship. I used to travel a great deal for a major computer company troubleshooting, installing, and repairing which was good for the checkbook, but not so good for my family life. Again, as you said, not a fault of the technology, but of the mindset that says the career is the main thing.
I still work in the field, but have gotten my priorities straightened out a little.
My wife and I never fellowship at the computer desk, but I do find that my wife and I enjoy the outdoors together, and there, our marriage gets a boost. I lead a bunch of Boy Scouts in camping, hiking etc, and what a joy to see them set down their Nintendos and thougoughly enjoy the outdoors.
I think the main thrust of this post is what Dean said about the false hopes of technology: that all the gadgets, helps and conveniences provided won’t change the human spirit. We are still the same as our ancesters inside. And in the wilderness, we can readily experience that truth. A GPS can fail in the forest, just like a cell phone can’t find a signal, so we are there just like those of a hundred years ago, and I for one think thats a good thing.
The gadgets in my home don’t draw me one inch closer to God, but in the wilderness, its like I’m right there with Him (which I am, by the way). I can sense His reality better there than anywhere else I go.
So, I’m glad for technology, but I’m “gladder” for the wilderness.
February 24th, 2009 at 9:41 am
Thanks, Tyson. Actually I appreciate it when people push back on issues like this. It helps to focus and sharpen them. Your point on Lewis and his view that hell is never creative, but only perverts is especially good in reference to my “poetry.” I may have to do some rewriting of it now!
I think my post somewhat lost its clarity when I moved from the value of a technology “fast” (good word) to the dangers of technology being in the driver’s seat, Jacques Ellul’s thesis. But as I implied in my last comment, frivolous modern technological devices can waste resources and waste time better spent on more helpful and meaningful things and activities. I have an iPod, a cell phone, a home computer, an office computer, a spare old laptop, and three old TVs; and I often succumb to using them for frivolous purposes when I could be using my time better in the cause of the Kingdom or merely fasting from them so that I can enjoy God’s great creation and indeed, as you indicate, practice the great spiritual disciplines. Almost every message I “preach” I first preach to myself.
But don’t let me discourage you from reading Jacques Ellul. His original tome, The Technological Society, published in 1964, is considered a sociological classic; but it’s a really tough read. His later book The Technological Bluff, published in 1990, is shorter and a much easier to read. And there are many other books from his pen that have so impressed me that I have tried to collect all his works. One author, Charles Ringma, professor of missions and evangelism at Regent College in Vancouver, BC, has taken much of Ellul’s thought and created a year-long devotional booklet that I keep on my desk: Resist the Powers: With Jacques Ellul. I find most of it compelling.
February 25th, 2009 at 9:56 am
My mother in law just had her 90th birthday Monday. She and I often laugh at people who have a blurred vision of “The Good Ole Days.”
We walk over to the thermostst and adjust the heat, instead of tending to a smokey smelly coal stove and then carry out the ashes.
We go to a warm bathroom and in the comfort of our special place take care of business, instead of trudging out into the cold night to an outhouse.
The list can go on. But When I was younger none of thoes things bothered me, I just learned there was a more comfortable way to live.
I bought all the “Foxfire” books when they became available. It seemed to me somehow the old ways needed to be preserved. Incase we needed to use them again. As some of lifes simple survival skills slip into a forgotten state.
Most don’t know how to make soap, or butter or cheese themselves. Nor how to can food. Refrigeration took away the neccesity to smoke meat. But we should remember how.
To me a walk into wilderness is also a reminder that my forfathers survived against all of natures fury, to bring me to the place of comfort I am. I think it is a healthy refection to see where we have been and perhaps to see where we are headed.