Albert Borgmann, a professor of
philosophy at the University of Montana, picks up on the heart of
Hamman’s observation, that the central characteristic of contemporary
culture is its technological nature. As a Christian, Borgmann
wonders about the future of the Gospel within such a technological
culture. “Perhaps underneath the surface of technological liberty and
prosperity there is a sense of captivity and deprivation, and we may
hope that once we understand technology more incisively and clearly,
there will be good news once again” (8). Borgmann contends that the
industrial and post-industrial culture pervasive in the First World
represent a unique threat to Christianity, and that “making room for
Christianity is in fact the most promising response to technology”
(8). This is the task to which Borgmann turns in the body of his book
Power Failure: Christianity in the Culture of Technology.
Borgmann
is searching for the “heart of contemporary culture,” which he finds
to be technology, and he therefore seeks to articulate the “philosophy
of technology” (14). Borgmann sees the pervasiveness of high
technology in the advanced industrialized nations as their defining
cultural characteristic. It is the invisibility and opacity of such
technology, its clean integration into all aspects of life in the
industrialized nation, that Borgmann takes special notice of, as
“nearly everything that surrounds a citizen of such a society … rests
on a sophisticated and unintelligible machinery” (16).
Borgmann
critiques the technological culture contending that the culture of
technology has aggravated and enhanced a malaise of the human spirit, or
at least has effectively concealed the reality of such a failing.
“In the Gospels, poverty is the manifestation of human frailty. In
poverty it is apparent that humans cannot through a sheer act of the
will, through an effort that would owe nothing to anyone, secure
their welfare” (103).
The situation of the
biblical poor stands in direct contrast to the situation of the
biblical rich. The rich “are favored with food and physical health
and seem to possess and control the conditions of their wholeness”
(103). Their apparent “self-sufficient security secludes them from
real life, which is celebrated in gratitude and sharing, in the
gladly accepted dependence on others, and in the willingness to have
others take part in one’s gifts” (103). It is because of this
situation that “it is difficult for the rich to be saved. They must,
against their wealth, recognize their fundamental frailty and so
become poor” (103).
The reality of human frailty
that biblical poverty signifies is no less present in the modern
technological culture, but its signification has become less clear
and more fragmented. The great success of technological innovation is
that “poverty as material deprivation and physical suffering is no
longer a frequent human condition” in technologically advanced
countries (103). It is this situation that Borgmann calls “advanced
poverty,” the “concealed” spiritual poverty of the technological
nations.
“Technology is the systematic
eradication of profound poverty, and it is just that success that
gives rise to advanced poverty. It is the accomplishment of
unquestionable comfort and security that has all but paralyzed our
capacity to help and to be helped and so to have part in the fullness
of life” (106). This poverty is related to the situation of the
biblical rich, as “advanced poverty, one might say, is a radically
aggravated and universalized form of the condition of the rich of
which the Bible speaks” (106).
Is the way then to
make room for the Gospel to be found among the contemporary poor?
Borgmann answers that it is not, because “the misery of the developing
countries has lost its biblical profoundness too” (104). Because of
the state of the technological countries, “global misery is no longer
an essential sign of human frailty but a scandal, a cruel and
unnecessary misfortune since the elimination of that misery is
clearly possible, not only conceptually but in fact” (104). Because
the elimination of poverty is technologically possible, “global
poverty has attained, necessarily, I believe, a bitterness and
brutality that make such poverty a difficult and contradictory setting
for the promise of salvation” (104). This is in direct contrast to
the theological approach, for example, of liberation theologians, who
find direct parallels between what Borgmann calls biblical poverty
and modern brute poverty.
The answer is not to
decry all technological advances, therefore, and to pine for a
pristine state of biblical pre-modern affairs. Technology that has a
direct impact on alleviating human suffering should be celebrated and
affirmed, although not necessarily unconditionally. “Surely God does
not want us to court and suffer preventable harms. Our morally
crucial circumstances are the exact mirror image of those that made
for martyrs. Where theirs were overt, ours are concealed; where
theirs were mortal to their bodies, ours are lethal to the soul; and
where theirs tore them out of their normal life, ours channel our
lives within the unquestioned banks of the technological culture” (114).
The reform of the technological culture must therefore come in our
everyday lives and the seemingly mundane choices we make daily.
Borgmann
effectively uses an illustration of a person coming home from a long
day’s work, “frazzled and spent” (114). The rest of the evening is
spent engaging in a variety of technological distractions, from
television, to e-mail, to video games. A scant few words are
exchanged between family members as everyone eats at different times,
engages in different diversions, and heads off to bed to prepare for
a repetition of the same process the next day. Borgmann asks
incisively, “has this been an un-Christian evening?” (114). He
concludes that although no sins of commission have occurred, such an
evening is rife with sins of omission. He concludes that “a life
without grace or gratitude is un-Christian, not in this failing or
that, but from the ground up. It has become incapable of redemption.
This is not an all-or-nothing affair, of course. But the rising
specter of irredeemability is stalking all of us” (115).
The
positive and Christian course of action would be to engage the world of
“focal things,” for all around us is “the world of personal
engagements and engaging things ….” (115). Borgmann notes the
possibilities for real personal engagement and fellowship are endless
and critical to our well-being. “The things I have in mind are good
books, musical instruments, athletic equipment, works of art, and
treasures of nature. The practices I am thinking of are those of
dining, running, fishing, gardening, playing instruments, and
reciting poetry” (124). Such are the activities and things that
contribute to the health and prosperity of the vital human person.
Borgmann
does not take an uninterrupted path to this point, however. At the
beginning he tends to emphasize the negative aspects of technology
rather than also seeing human innovation as a good manifestation of
the cultural blessing in Genesis 1:26. This can give the impression
that Borgmann is working from some sort of romanticist, neo-Luddite
conception of technology. In the end, this is not really the case at
all, but his largely negative view of technology results from the
nature of this book. It is a reactionary critique against the
prevailing cultural mores, and it is difficult to write such a critique,
constructive though it may be, without erring at some point on the
opposite extreme.
Some of his conclusions, too,
are highly problematic. For example, a community that embodies such
emphasis on focal things and practices is called a community of
celebration. Borgmann finds that “without public support, genuine
communities of celebration will be impossible, and to secure such
support appropriately is the task of communal politics” (58).
Borgmann is all too ready to place the task of reforming
technological culture within the purview of governmental legislation
and oversight. This statement is representative of Borgmann’s general
tendency to trust in a pervasively tolerant, politically correct notion
of popular religious engagement.
Nevertheless,
Borgmann’s analysis of the culture of technology is helpful insofar
as it seeks neither to “demolish technology nor run away from it”
(8). Instead, he attempts to displace the worship of technology from
its idolatrous throne in industrial and post-industrial nations.
Borgmann raises issues that often are not explicitly dealt with in
contemporary public discourse, but tend to remain unexpressed and
unarticulated by many Christians. Technology is not an unmixed
blessing nor is it completely evil. Relegating the use of technology
within its proper sphere and keeping technology from dominating every
aspect of our lives is the right path to “restrain it and redeem it”
(8).
Source: Acton Institute
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