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- Teich, Ch. 5-6 -

The essays “Why I Am Not Going to Buy a Computer” and “Technology and the Tragic View” are examples of high quality literary journalism. Literary journalism differs from news reporting in a number of ways. It is literary in the sense that it makes great literature or the production of literature its touchstone. It is poetic in its appeal to our emotions. It is humanistic to the extent that it tries to capture what is unique and valuable in the human spirit. Finally, literary journalism is typically highly personal even subjective, although it tries to make the connection between the uniquely personal and a broader humanity.

It is important to understand these characteristics when dealing with literary journalism. It is inappropriate, for example, to challenge the claims of such writers as though they were reporting facts or making social scientific claims. And, although these articles can be viewed as logical arguments defending or advancing a position, it is even inappropriate to judge such writing on philosophical grounds. The kind of arguments that are made here depend as much on intuition, the appropriateness of the metaphors used, and the recognition of ambiguity, as they do on formal logic.

That doesn’t mean that we can’t challenge or debate these kinds of arguments; it simply means that we need to do so on the articles’ terms. In this lecture, I’m going to try to show you how to evaluate or discuss these kinds of readings without missing the point.

In “Why I Am Not Going to Buy a Computer”, for example, Wendell Berry claims that the benefits of computers are sufficiently ambiguous that he feels justified in rejecting them, despite the fact that most of the other writers he knows have computers. He is not suggesting that other writers stop using computers. He admits that he relies on technology in many aspects of his life. He suggests, however, that one needs to weight the pros and cons of using any particular technology.

His larger argument comes out in his rebuttal of critics. These critics largely misread Berry’s argument by treating it as an unambiguous attack on technology. They pushed the implications of Berry’s argument to the point of suggesting that Berry would be happier with a quill and parchment. They attacked Berry as someone who should have a bad conscience because he is not entirely consistent in his behaviour. Finally, they accused Berry of inhumanity in using his wife as an amensis or scribe.

Berry’s reply to his critics also evidences certain kinds of problems. Instead of pointing out that his critics had missed the point, Berry stereotypes them as technological fundamentalists and as individuals who “cannot tolerate the smallest difference of opinion.” Clearly, Berry is equally guilty of missing the point, since some of his critics obviously cannot be labeled as technological fundamentalists. At worst, they are people who feel the need to go on the defensive because of the implied criticism in Berry’s article. Obviously, the reason that they feel so defensive is because they agree to some extent with parts of Berry’s position.

Fortunately, Berry does rise above the squabble by elevating

1. We live in a society where institutions and corporations constantly encourage us to consume new technologies without thinking about their use and the consequences.
2. Many of those who are critical of governments and new technologies fail to question their own practices.
3. The first duty of private individuals is to question and curtail their own patterns of consumption if they want to create a conserving society.

Now, we might wish to debate these claims by Berry, but they are interesting claims that force us to think more deeply (and subjectively) about the advance of technology and our roles within it. Moreover, the best thing about this literary/subjective approach is that it doesn’t shy from the ambiguity of the human condition, especially as it applies to technology.

Another article that deals with the ambiguity of the human condition, from an even more explicitly literary perspective is “Technology and the Tragic View.” This article makes several connected arguments:

1. Technological developments almost always bring in their train “unanticipated problems”. The defence of technological progress as leading towards utopia or a perfect society simply is not plausible.
2. The business community manipulates our naïve belief in “optimistic materialism” through the adoption of technological gadgets to turn us into “gleeful consumers.”
3. It is a sign of maturity and responsibility in individuals and societies to be able to “consider the dark complexities of technological change.” These can be seen by looking at 1) housing technologies, 2) medical innovations, and 3) the transportation revolution.
4. The social shift from a naïve enthusiasm for technology in the eighteenth-century to a more pessimistic viewpoint in the late twentieth and early twenty-first century is linked in America to the shift from youthful enthusiasm to a disenchanted adulthood.
5. The appropriate solution is neither a false optimism nor a paralytic pessimism. It is, rather, an acceptance of the ambiguities of living in the world.
6. The correct response to living in the real world of ambiguity is the noble vision or tragic viewpoint. In this viewpoint, we recognize that we will make mistakes and even fail, but we heroically chose to act bravely and to accept responsibility for our actions.
7. Simple resignation or Stoicism is not an appropriate response to our tragic human condition. Stoicism means rejecting the world by being totally self-controlled and thereby immune to the world’s distractions. The Greek (and later Shakespearian) tragedians advocated a different course of action by affirming heroism while noting its limitations.
8. The model of a tragic hero with respect to technology is the Greek god Prometheus. Prometheus brought the ability to make fire - arguably the most important of all technologies - to humanity. For this, he was severely punished by the gods who chained him to a mountain and allowed evil harpies (part bird, part demon) to eat his entrails.

There are a lot of interesting things going on in this article, no doubt. In some ways, the message resembles that of Berry in its emphasis on the human condition with respect to technology. Certainly, both writers point to ambiguity. With respect to this ambiguity, Florman presents a great deal more in the way of literary allusion and metaphor, making his work superficially more complex.

Why superficially? Well, Florman looks as though he is making a subtle literary argument, but this argument tends to fall apart because it does not provide insights that turn out to be very deep. This is because many of the article’s claims fail to meet the criteria that would allow us to act responsibly and maturely. There is a serious literary misrepresentation in the central argument is that the “tragic view accepts responsibility but does not seek to cast blame.” But that’s not what literary ambiguity or the tragic vision did at all.

The tragic vision clearly did accept a certain amount of ambiguity in the human condition. No matter what the individual hero did, he or she was always subject to fate and to the need to make choices. So far so good for Florman. But Greek and Shakespearian tragic heroes never escaped judgment or blame. In fact, they always had a tragic flaw that led to their downfall. In Greek drama, that flaw was explicitly pointed out by the Greek chorus, which represented the Greek community and commented on the behaviour of the heroes. While the good qualities of the hero were admirable, it was the bad or evil consequences that sunk him or her.

What Florman does is the exact opposite. He tends to use the ambiguity of the human condition to obscure the distinction between good and evil that the dramatic tragedians sought to preserve. Whereas the tragedians wanted to show us how good and evil could be determined in a complex world, Florman wants to substitute a continuum between good and evil. This allows him to obscure very real problems within phrases like “the pro-growth industrialist and the environmentalist are both needed, and in a strange way they need each other.”

Looked at from a different (and essentially Hegelian) perspective, Florman is suggesting that health and goodness comes out of the conflict between those who want to develop new technologies and those who want to limit them. The German philosopher Hegel suggested that the evils and bloodshed of this world were understandable because they were essentially progressive. Individual morality was largely irrelevant to the great stream of historical progress that was built on the frailties of mankind. Florman echoes these beliefs, not only by directly referring to Hegel, but also by affirming the desire to “move on, actively seeking to realize our constantly changing vision of a more satisfactory society.”

Am I claiming too much to suggest that Florman’s tragic vision is not the vision of the Greek tragedians at all? To my way of thinking, when all the trappings of responsibility and complexity are dropped, Florman’s vision is quite technocratic. It is an apology for always pursuing the technological agenda, just as long as we accept responsibility for our actions. Moreover, Florman buttresses his version of the tragic vision by including elements that no tragic dramatist would recognize. In the conclusion to his essay for Home & Garden, Florman introduces the concepts of compassion and adventure. We must pursue technological solutions because these will help us to improve the lot of suffering people. Moreover, we must pursue technological solutions because they are part of some grand human adventure. These concepts may or may not be a useful way of describing the technological impulse. But they are not developed here, or linked to the central argument. They end up being an uncritical apology for technology.

Florman’s article resembles many that are written from a fundamentally pro-technology bias. He accepts the fact that there are problems associated with the introduction of new technologies but argues that there is no alternative. Moreover, he defends this position by referring to a body of literature that admittedly “is an affirmation of the value of life” but that has a very different agenda from the one that Florman proposes. Florman caricatures Greek tragedy to fit his purpose and, by so doing, obscures and even twists much of its ethical content.

Florman’s discussion of hubris and Stoicism are good examples of the way that he twists concepts to his own purpose. Stoicism, or supreme self-control, was a school of thought in ancient Greece. While adherents to this school could often be extreme - nothing external could affect their composure and they were often accused of being unfeeling - stoic values were integral to Greek thought and to Greek drama. Stoicism encouraged balance and independence, values that were positively represented in tragic literature, and that contrast to Florman’s emphasis on compassion that was a much later literary development.

Florman dismisses Stoicism because he finds it too pessimistic for his tastes and too out of touch with reality. On the other hand, he elevates the quality of hubris or “overweening pride.” We need to observe the slight of hand that Florman engages in here. On the one hand, he admits that pride leads to a fall. In fact, hubris is the chief cause of the fall of the hero in Greek tragedy. But Florman simultaneously suggests that pride:

which in drama invariably leads to a fall, is not considered sinful by the great tragedians. It is an essential element of humanity’s greatness. It is what inspires heroes to confront the universe, to challenge the status quo.

This is a serious misrepresentation of the message of Greek tragedy. It is not the self-centred pride that the Greek tragedians wanted to praise. It is the bravery, honour, self-control and ability to endure that makes these heroes great and that renders their downfall lamentable. The idea that pride is a good thing until it becomes extreme is not the message of Greek or any other tragedy. A sense of honour and a striving for excellence (arête) is very different from pride, which is a self-centred emotion that is dangerous to the community. Greek literature and culture did not advocate the striving for knowledge and adventure that went beyond the bounds of community.

That is precisely why Prometheus was punished. He went against the consensus of the Gods by bringing technology to man. But Prometheus was a legend and not a figure of Greek tragedy. His relevance to this discussion is debatable. The actual living person who is relevant to this discussion is Socrates. The Greeks condoned the death of Socrates from hemlock precisely because he had too much hubris. Everyone living in the Greek empire knew that Socrates was a brilliant philosopher and a dialectician. No one wanted to execute him. But Socrates’ pride meant that he constantly challenged the status quo and was a potential revolutionary. Therefore, in the interest of the community, the Greek state allowed and tacitly encouraged his death.

By attempting to use the Greeks to promote technology, Florman is really not being true to the spirit or letter of his literary sources. In fact, he is doing something quite shifty. He is twisting literary symbols to suit his own purpose. Despite the fact that Florman spends a great deal of time talking about the “dark complexities of technological change”, there is no doubt where the sympathies of this literary engineer lie:

Prometheus defied Zeus and brought technical knowledge to the human race. Prometheus was a revolutionary. So were Gutenberg, Watt, Edison, and Ford. Technology is revolutionary. Therefore, hostility towards technology is antirevolutionary, which is to say it is reactionary.

Sentences like this tell us exactly where Florman stands. Anything that involves a critique of technology is not only “reactionary” but also contrary to an entire Western tradition of tragic heroism. Moreover, it is fundamentally unrealistic, immature and contrary to a vital life filled with noble spirit. And, if you don’t like that assessment, Florman is willing to tell you that you also lack compassion and a sense of adventure to boot.

So, I didn’t find Florman’s article anywhere near as balanced and “insightful” as the editor of Technology and the Future suggests in his introduction. You don’t need to agree with me on this one. What I wanted to show you here is how to critique a literary and subjective approach to technology. Here are some steps to follow:

1. Pay attention to the author’s background and interests.
2. Get a feel for the entire case that is being made. Be prepared to go beyond any explicit claims for impartiality or evidence of a balanced argument.
3. See if the language and examples are appropriate to the subject matter.
4. Search for hidden assumptions or implications.
5. Assess the authority or the foundation upon which the argument rests.
6. Above all, never accept an author’s generalizations about this foundation or his/her literary illusions at their face value. Whenever you can, examine these independently.
7. Always assume that an author will interpret the literature and symbols of the past in ways that fit his/her own paradigm (i.e. view of the world).
8. Be prepared to challenge the appropriateness of the author’s interpretations. For example, in the article “Technology and the Tragic View”, Forman advances a very idiosyncratic and misleading interpretation of the Greek Tragedians that fundamentally misses the point. In fact, a truer reading of tragic drama poses serious problems for the technological point of view.

The notes presented here are for the AK NATS 1760.06 “Science, Technology and Society” course offered in the Fall/Winter Semester of 2001/2002 by the Atkinson College of York University, Toronto, Canada and taught by John Dwyer. The lectures are based on the following texts:

1. Martin Bridgstock et al, Science, Technology and Society: An Introduction (Cambridge University Press, 1998), ISBN 0-521-58735-2
2. Kevin Robbins and Frank Webster, Times of the Technoculture: From the Information Society to the Virtual Life (New York, Routledge, 1999), ISBN 0-415-16115-0
3. Albert H. Teich, Technology and the Future (New York, St. Martin’s Press, 2000), ISBN 0-312-01885-1

For more about John Dwyer, visit: http://www.sayitagain.com/ivorytower/