On the Double-Edged Sword of (Digital) Tech
Or why technology isn't inherently bad, but an unavoidable duality we must come to terms with.
During childhood, I—unlike most future liberal arts aficionados and proponents—was not really an avid reader (I did read periodicals and books frequently, but not obsessively): instead, I spent most of my time on a combination of embodied pursuits like athletics, and immersive ones like playing video games: video games which, transported me to worlds beyond the inane and mundane. But despite growing up with what I believe to be a healthy dose of computer technology, I—during my early-20s, whilst finishing up my undergraduate “Great Books” education—began to view tech very differently than before: instead of seeing with nuance its many virtues against its deleterious effects, I began instead, to solely hone in on its ill, macroscopic effects—particularly those that have become ubiquitous in the age of “Big Tech,” with the hallmarks of constant social media connection, overstimulation, and an “attention economy” that “hacks” the brain’s neural and dopaminergic pathways to facilitate addiction—and consequently, aims to create lifetime addicts of whom will be made better consumers through the constant bombardment with advertisements, which are enhanced by incessant “data harvesting”: i.e. the sale of user data garnered perfidiously via trackers, cookies, and other algorithmic plugins, at marketplaces called “data brokerages.” All of these abuses of powers conferred via tech are now widely known and despised (and rightfully so, I might add).
But what I want to talk about today is something very different: the virtues of tech (rather than belaboring its multitude of well-established vices). The seemingly absurd irony of discussing the virtues of an interconnected apparatus—upon which we are now so dependent, and which has been largely used as a tool for large-scale social control (and to extort as much money and data from the consumer as possible), is not lost on me—though I believe, if one allows deeper analysis, the truth will present itself as more confounding, muddy, and hazy (as it always tends to do).
Disenchanted With a Disenchanted World
My disenchantment with tech was precipitated by some of the formative and foundational books I read regarding the dangers of tech and technological enslavement: a very real specter that haunts us thus; such books included: Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World and Science, Liberty and Peace, George Orwell’s 1984, Neil Postman’s Amusing Ourselves to Death, Wendell Berry’s Hannah Coulter, C.S. Lewis’s Abolition of Man, F.A. Hayek’s The Road to Serfdom and The Constitution of Liberty, Henry David Thoreau’s Walden, Ralph Waldo Emerson’s Over Soul and Self-Reliance, and Friedrich Nietzsche’s Anti-Education Lectures. I am sure I am missing other well-reasoned and thoughtful accounts, which have proven more true than false.
Neil Postman’s Amusing Ourselves to Death: where he argued in essence, everything once seen as important and taken seriously, had turned into “show business,” i.e. menial entertainment.
Some central ideas (from the books listed above) that have stuck with me include the notion that nothing is gained without “something” else being lost: i.e. there is no advancement in human technology without something else—usually a social intangibility, or skilled craft related to production and “the division of labor”—being lost to posterity or irrevocably changed; I still find such an idea compelling and at least mostly true: for instance, before the advent of commercial farming and refrigeration, most of any given population had to be farmers—whether they wished so or not was irrelevant. Thus, we can wax poetic about the lost idyll “agrarian way”—and such one-sided nostalgic panegyrics are surely potent, and are filled with genuine humane concerns and compelling arguments about how simplicity for simplicity’s sake is the best mode of life for the human being—but postmodern man has something in abundance that none before have: choice, in terms of life mode and methodology—if only on the surface of things. To whatever extent postmodern men have choice in terms of how to live and what to live for, it is both a blessing and a curse in that it is extremely liberating—so much so, that such a liberation may in fact be a burden itself.1
Another idea, advented by Postman—who was drawing from Huxley and Thoreau—is the definition of technology, which is a contrived device or process invented by humanity, through the application of science, which serves no real purpose, in that it doesn’t “solve” any real or apparent problem. Postman then compared, through juxtaposition, “tools” to “technologies,” wherein the former, unlike the latter, was designed with a specific purpose in mind—and was therefore, not extraneous and superfluous (in that it would distract the individual from serious things through its powerful and numbing analgesic properties), but integral to human advancement and progress; technology then, is the inventing of a device or process that serves no real human purpose: therefore, in pursuing technological advancement, human beings must walk a “tight rope,” ensuring that they do not mar the world with new forms of an old Frankensteinian problem: that is, heedless and needless technologies created for their own vain sake. In my estimation, AI would probably fit into the aforementioned category, but I also see how it is a powerful tool that can be used to automate monotonous and laborious tasks.
And yet, I recently—whilst hibernating during an unusually cold winter—have felt an undue desire to start playing video games again. Only equipped with my work and writing computer—a 13" M1 MacBook Air, which is a miraculous fanless device (that is surprisingly powerful yet so sleek and well-made)—I have been playing a few games, including an old childhood favorite2 of mine: the absolute masterpiece of an imaginative world that is Myst, which I beat in the span of a couple of days (with some help). For those who don’t know, Myst is a point-and-click adventure game that was originally released in 1993; at the time, it was a technological marvel that used pre-rendered still images packed with uncanny detail (at a time when most video games used blocky 3D graphics and 8-bit colors).
Before Myst, video games used 2D-sprites and simplistic 8-bit color palettes.
The History of Myst: How It Changed Video Games Forever & Defined a Genre
Video explaining the revolutionary technical and vision of Myst. HIGHLY RECOMMEND.
Over the years, Myst has been reimagined and re-released multiple times by indie developer, Cyan Studios (who is a wonderful and ethical company that has never sold out to a big development studio), in numerous iterations—including RealMyst in 2000 and RealMyst Masterpiece Edition in 2014—culminating in the 2021 edition of Myst which is a full remake, where the game was fully remade in the Unreal Engine (with real-time rendering of a fully 3D world) and released on Mac, PC, and Linux; the latest version, can also be played in miraculous VR which I have tried, but did not prefer (due to motion sickness); I have found the 2021 edition of the game to be as immersive, clever, rich, detailed, challenging, and compelling as almost any great work of literature I have read—well, perhaps excepting Dostoevsky.
While playing games like Myst, I find myself constantly thinking—prodding, deliberating, and otherwise perusing a world which admittedly is not real and does not “exist,” but which is so well-crafted that it inspires a deep awe: a desire to experience everything the world has to teach to better know it and its many secrets. The world of Myst has its own ethos—its own religions and mythological notions; underlying all adornments are deep philosophical assumptions and premises. In such a resonant way, it is like experiencing a fantasy world featured in a great work of literature like The Hobbit or The Lord of the Rings; it is much more a world that was painstakingly created with great care, ingenuity and creativity, than a commercial consumer entertainment product: and it is precisely in this way, that I find Myst to share much more in common with great literature than a mindless MMO video game (of which there are a multitude).
Since finishing Myst, I have begun playing the 2024 edition of Riven: the even better remake of the sequel to Myst. Whereas Myst featured numerous worlds within its game-world, Riven features different islands, all part of a dying world, where fissures to deep, empty cosmic space (called the “starry expanse”), have opened up, further underlying an assumption that the world itself will soon tear itself apart and perish; Riven ensues within this pertinent and apocalyptic, time-sensitive atmosphere. Without spoiling the plot, the player is transported to the world of Riven, where—like Myst—he or she (with little direction) must solve innumerable riddles and puzzles, while attempting to piece together an intelligible narrative to make sense of the seemingly nonsensical; to explicate whilst experiencing—as if the whole “game” were but a grand exploration of a grand idea within the brain of the world’s author, who eons ago, wrote the world into existence with his pen—the decay of world which escapes and supersedes conscious apprehension. In Riven, most of the joy simply comes from exploring: simply being—taking time to see and discover what underlying motifs and universal realities the represented game-world has to teach us: about ourselves, our human nature, and by extension: our world.
There are other games (or genres of game) I play (or have played) that have similar, if adjacent, benefits:
Flight simulators—particularly World War II combat flight simulators. My current favorite of which, is the IL-2 Sturmovik: Great Battles series, which dazzles in virtual reality, where I frequently play online with other players; in fact, I have been a member of numerous virtual squadrons, where I have had the opportunity to meet, befriend, and form a virtual community with people whom I would likely never have had the pleasure of meeting in real life, owing to geographical realities. A game like IL-2 allows one to experience the challenge and thrill of air combat in an unreal, virtual world that has been created with parameters based on historical realities and the limitations of physics, both of which make mastery of such a pursuit difficult yet extremely rewarding in a way that doesn’t feel cheap, easy, or readily accessible; the former is particularly so, when battling online against seasoned players, with no navigational aids or external views (hence the need to learn and master “dead reckoning”) and realistic manual engine management. In fact, I have a hobby YouTube Channel dedicated to my exploits and shenanigans in IL-2, called “Virtual Warbirds.”
IL-2: Great Battles | The Pony Express: P-51 Video Journal | Filmed on Combat Box (December '23)
Historical fiction—usually in the form of vast, “open world” games: such games that I have experienced and been enriched by include: Kingdom Come: Deliverance (KCD), a Medieval first-person RPG (role-playing game) set in 15th century Bohemia: a world which I could surely not experience otherwise. KCD is a beautiful and masterfully-created world that is worth exploring and has a lot to teach via experiential gameplay and an included, in-game encyclopedia, which is packed chock-full with historically-accurate information. Like Myst, KCD was lovingly created by an indie (independent) studio that is based in modern-day Germany—near the very regions featured in the game, in fact. Thus, to create the game-world, Warhorse Studios had to conduct extensive historical and biographical research on the place and time featured.
Renaissance Venezia in ACII.
Renaissance Firenze in ACII.
Notre Dame in AC: Unity. Of note: Ubisoft’s model of the iconic and renowned cathedral was so detailed that it was used in the reconstruction efforts.
The beautiful Sasau Monastery featured in Kingdom Come: Deliverance.
Similarly, I have found immense value in exploring the worlds of the Assassin’s Creed series (until recent releases which have increasingly felt like a shameless Ubisoft cash grab), which are historical fiction games set in places like Renaissance Italy, Revolutionary America and France, Ptolemaic Egypt, and Hellenic Greece. Through the lens of games like Assassin’s Creed and Kingdom Come, I have realized the truth endemic in one of the “first principles” I was taught as a history major many years ago: namely, that the past is, itself, like a “foreign country that defies comprehension” through a myopic, modern lens; as such, seeing and experiencing the past—which can never be truly done through heady book-learning (or visual methods such as these)—as it might have been, gives many of these games (and similar quality games like the ones mentioned) much value. As a result, I find them to be worthy creations that contribute to human flourishing; that is, in so far as one does not become wholly absorbed or consumed by their unreal worlds: for still, we must live in the here-and-now, despite whatever proclivities we may possess towards virtual worlds—whether they be constructed post-hoc in the imagination by virtue of text printed on a page, or rendered in the full glory of subtly variegated color and three dimensional polygonal space—on one of our many miraculous “displays3,” which are capable of breathing idea-worlds into an uncanny, yet unreal, “existence.”
Virtual museums: the first of which that comes to mind is Titanic: Honor and Glory, made by another indie developer, viz. Vintage Digital Revival, in the Unreal Engine. For those who don’t know, the entire RMS Titanic is being recreated in glorious 3D graphics (along with its berthing port-city of Southhampton, England). The game is currently under development, but a tech demo is available for free to download (linked below). Ocean liners have long intrigued me4 and inspired nostalgia for a bygone, idyllic age of comfortable, affordable, luxurious, and timely ocean travel—especially in an age like ours, where air travel is increasingly miserable. The historical ship—brought to life in the game—is beautiful and impressive beyond mere words: it is an achievement (and folly5, perhaps) that defies comprehension in an age whose chief values are cost-efficiency and expedience. Witnessing the ship’s splendor within the game, has been—on numerous occasions—enough to bring tears to my eyes at the resulting splendor of an organized and dedicated, passionate labor that is difficult to even conceive of in our century.
Titanic: Honor and Glory Demo 401 v2.1 (Full Tour)
Titanic’s first-class “Grand Staircase” in the free “Demo 401.”
If you want to try it for yourself, you can download it below for free:
Demo 401 (Titanic’s Harland and Wolf Yard Number while under construction) download: Download page.
And there are innumerable other technological marvels that are worth exploring and noting, but lay beyond the pale of this inquiry. But, I must note a few other (digital) favorites of mine that captivate and elevate the embodied soul and mind:
Film which has captivated and dazzled the hearts and minds of men far and wide; digital video, in particular, has afforded nearly anyone (with a few thousand dollars and drive) the opportunity to become a professional-level filmmaker (and therefore a master storyteller).
Digital music: being able to listen to nearly any song or piece of music ever conceived is a gift that we take for granted each day, but it would have been unimaginable as recent as fifty years ago. Further, electronic music—e.g. chill step, binaural beats, dubstep, etc.—can be very beautiful; and it is worth noting, that programs which allow for the easy creation of new music are incredibly valuable and good. Like digital video, digital music has somewhat decentralized the production of music—which has consequently disempowered the “gatekeepers” of old (although it has also introduced some new issues regarding artist compensation and DRM (digital rights management).
E-readers with e-ink displays (which are easy on the eyes, like paper) allow for one to keep an entire library—including highlights and notes—in a device the size of one book, allowing for chronicled study that would have required great wealth (space and a ton of books) in even the recent past; with (backed-up) e-readers, one no longer has to dread books getting lost, burnt, or turned back into wood pulp.6
New and Old Mediums: Humans Always Resist Change (for better and worse).
With the aforementioned masterpieces in mind, I postulate that good games (or even well-made documentaries and films) are but a new outlet—a new medium for human creativity to utilize as its canvas. Hence, I posit that a creation being proffered in a new and innovative form, does not make such creations inherently less than those mediums which came before—though it is worth noting, that within the economic confines of our consumer-driven culture, they frequently are, by virtue of “market factors.” Yet, for instance, there was a time when writing (to express information and ideas) was new and innovative—and of course, stodgy orators like Socrates feared that such a development would undermine the existing, rhetorical spoken word: and to his credit, he was correct: no one gives six hour orations by memory any longer—and we don’t have to bear such (likely) artifices of sophistic window-dressing; yet this, i.e. the advent and promulgation of the written word, has been to humanity’s immense benefit.
Like anything else, the principle I am here suggesting is about using conscious discernment to choose wisely: what we feed ourselves and indulge—literally and figuratively—is who (or what) we will likely become: for we are malleable and adaptive creatures—though it is worth noting, we are also resilient (at least in terms of potentiality). For instance, in our “techtopia,” we need to be especially mindful about the ways in which we use our devices: of course obsessive social media usage is bad for everyone—most notably teenage girls (who are most apt to overindulge on mindless, vapid and insidiously vain reels); of course porn—including new forms like VR and AI-generated “girlfriends”—is sickening our hearts, minds, and souls—particularly those of teenage boys; of course there are grave dangers present on the Internet, particularly in terms of its propensity to endow scammers and grifters with the best “platform” ever conceived for such charlatanism; similarly, verifying information—particularly with the advent of generative AI—is increasingly difficult and requires more intuitive judgment than ever, since mass misinformation and disinformation has proliferated; and yet, on the other side of the token, the mass dissemination of information of the Internet has led to a great distrust of authority, and I think this a positive (if disruptive) development and direct causal effect of the “information age.”
And yet, I must ask: at present, do the net benefits outweigh the social costs? I am apt to conclude, probably not—but also must note: we live on an individual level—therefore, we must make the best of whatever circumstances present themselves to us over the course of a lifespan: that is the essential task of human flourishing: i.e. an adaptive and expansive malleability, that makes us increasingly better and stronger and more self-reliant. In all, technology (particularly the personal computer with graphical capabilities) endows us—through a wondrous power of advanced calculation at our “beck and call”—with a tool of profound capacity, that may be used in a twofold manner: namely, for exploration and creation; if we instead use it to indulge, delude, soothe, and otherwise anesthetize—wherein we choose to eschew its virtuous powers, instead wallowing in its entrapping mires—who do we have to blame but ourselves? And so, while I don’t believe human beings to be capable of skillfully navigating a sea boundless choice in general terms, on an individual level, there is potentiality for skillful and adept prowess, as it applies to using technology without being consumed by its sirenous allurements.
When we apply such gifted powers to ill ends, and then subsequently blame “IT (Information Technology),” as if IT were the “thing itself”; to do such thing is, for examples, akin to blaming all food for the ultra-processed junk food which fattens and sickens us thus; or, similarly: to blame “smut” for the degradation of the written word—where it is seldom noted that, if it weren’t electively-indulged, it would cease to exist (owing to economic, market factors😉). All of this leads to the conclusion that we—each of us—are, in this technological age, more responsible than ever for what we put in our bodies and minds—and what we allow ourselves to be bombarded with (and subjected to). Thus, I am apt to conclude that for most of us (unimportant folks who escape the ungracious public eye): like anything else, tech—particularly computers, excepting the purposefully-addictive “smartphone”—is what we make of it; and hence, if we use it as a tool in moderation—rather than as a technology to which we must always find and adapt a use (smart watches?)—I think the negative effects may still be minimized before it is too late, while the benefits may be maximized and multiplied. But in all of this, individual choice and rational action—that may war with the unconscious, base desires that technology companies have long since learned to exploit (to our peril and their nefarious ends)—is required to buck the trend and reverse course: for we are otherwise soon to be consumed by that which could liberate and empower us.
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Such choices—i.e. “you can be anything you want to be, or do anything you want to do”—may also be increasingly illusory and hollow, in that economic factors are increasingly precluding genuine choice about how to live.
I have my wonderful and doting late grandfather to thank for introducing me to worthy and challenging games—like Myst and combat flight simulators—during my childhood, that were so compelling and inspirational, I return to them nearly three decades later.
Paper—just like the OLED, Retina, or LCD panel—may also be said to be a “display”: for a display is that which displays ideas, information, and visual phenomena—and text too, is in a sense, visual: not merely thought-concepts within a void.
Okay, that may be a bit of an understatement, albeit for reasons I won’t go into here. I will say that ocean travel—and the great ocean liners of the first half of the twentieth century—are a bit of an obsession of mine.
I am referring here to the real ship, not the digital representation.
By getting wet that is.
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