Explainer
AI - Artificial Intelligence
Culture
Digital
5 min read

How tech harvests our humanity

The second in a three-part series exploring the implications of technology.

James is Canon Missioner at Blackburn Cathedral. He researches technology and theology at Oxford University.

blue cables converge on a server.

In the first article, I painted a picture of the ordinary person using modern technology, for example, social media on a smart phone. I noted that advocates for modern technology seem to have two basic principles: that technology is natural and neutral. In this next article I want to introduce the philosophy of Martin Heidegger and show how he pushes against these two basic principles and invites us to think again about modern technology. Heidegger’s instinct, as a twentieth century philosopher, is to be suspicious that things are not as they seem, he casts his suspicious gaze over modern technology and sees a way of being that technology encourages that exists underneath the technologies that we use every day. 

What Heidegger wants to show us about modern technology is not related to specific concerns about particular technologies but instead a general suspicion about the ‘essence’ of technology, or, you could say, the spirit of technology. He doesn’t want us to immediately jump to pragmatic questions about how to use technology, as if the primary question is how to make any given technology better or more moral. Instead, Heidegger wants us to take modern technology together as a whole and ask, “What is the essence of this?” Heidegger’s contention is that “technology is not an object or set of objects, nor a way of handling objects with tools, but a form of being the world. It is not something we choose to refuse, but the environment in which modern humans come into existence.”

Heidegger argues that underneath any piece of tech that we might use in our day-to-day lives, technology at its core has already completely changed the way that we as a society understand and interact with the world and everything in it. We live in a technological age and as members of a technological society and so we have been shaped by (to use Christian language, we have been ‘discipled’ by) the spirit of the age to see the world around us. Heidegger suggests that we now see the world as broken down into useable bits that can be categorised and reformed to suit our needs. As Mark Wrathall puts it, the essence of technology is to train us to “experience the world as calling on us or drawing us. To transform everything into stock pieces, so that they can be placed into a vast inventory of options.”[2] Growing up in a technological society means that we see the whole world as an Amazon warehouse a place of seemingly limitless options that can be called upon depending on our needs and quickly delivered.  

A piece of technology such as the smartphone points to a wider ‘spirit’ of technology which intends to position everything, even human beings, as replaceable resources within a larger system. 

The central word that Heidegger uses to describe the essence of technology is gestell which is not an easy word to translate into English, but two possible translations would be ‘positionality’, or ‘enframing’. His point is that the essence of technology is to remove objects, people, and things from their natural environment and position them so that they might become useful, a resource, available for our manipulation. When Heidegger says that the essence of technology is gestell he is pointing to the way that modern technology extracts objects from their contexts and turns them into a quarry to the plundered. There are of course obvious ways in which humanity has always extracted resources from the natural world: we have always quarried for energy (coal, oil etc) or chopped down forests for wood. By claiming that the essence of modern technology is gestell, Heidegger wants us to notice that in the modern world, it’s not just quarries or forests that we mine for resources but now anything and everything can be turned from being a singular object in the world into a recourse for extraction. Everything has become what Heidegger calls “standing reserve.”  

Think again of a smartphone, it is just one of the billions of devices that sit on shelves or, having already been purchased, live in someone else’s pocket. Inside each device are thousands of transistors and circuit boards each of which again are stockpiled in warehouses ready to be replaced if needed or used for some other purpose. Your phone is connected to a network of nodes each of which can be replicated or replaced if needed, no node is unique.  Your latest phone has no unique or prize relation to you, it’s just the latest upgrade which will be recycled in a year or two when the next upgrade becomes available. The person from whom you bought the phone is equally replaceable, just a faceless employee completing a set of controlled and pre-arranged tasks that are designed to be completed by anyone and no one in particular. Likewise, you as the consumer are considered to be little more than “standing reserve” by the companies that supply you with your smartphone and access to their networks. One of many millions of nodes in their system that has been analysed so that your preferences can be expertly mapped to the range of services that they provide. Within that system, you are completely replaceable. A piece of technology such as the smartphone points to a wider ‘spirit’ of technology which intends to position everything, even human beings, as replaceable resources within a larger system: “Every item within this standing reserve is reduced to a position, actively waiting to be called on. Heidegger insists this is no judgment on the radio, the internet, or the smartphone user. It is just the way in which the essence of modern technology interacts with humanity… Heidegger provides a diagnosis of our modern age and the way in which we humans have placed ourselves under the sway of modern technology, as a resource standing within a network which seeks, ultimately, to place, represent, and think of every entity as an object within an all-encompassing system.”

Let’s return to the original thought experiment at the start of the first article: a mother playing with her child, who immediately reaches for her phone to capture the moment when her child does something particularly cute. An advocate for modern technology, like Steve Jobs, may look at that interaction and see only the benefit: a mother wanting to remember a beautiful moment with her child extends the capacities of her brain using a digital tool to aid her memory. But Heidegger would be more suspicious, he would look at that moment and argue instead that the essence of technology is to turn everything, even a precious moment with a cute baby, into a resource to be used at a later date. The unique moment of joy and delight between parent and child becomes caught and codified such that it can be found and replayed at will or easily replicated to send to others. At the extreme end of the spectrum are so-called content creators who reduce themselves to just another resource to be harvested on social media. 

So that is Heidegger’s diagnosis of our technological age, in the final article in this series we will consider Heidegger’s solution and consider what a particularly Christian response to Heidegger’s diagnosis might look like. 

Article
Culture
Suffering
5 min read

Protection from evil shouldn’t rely on a blue glass bead

Faith goes beyond culture in my beloved Türkiye

Becky is a a writer living in Istanbul.

Blue evil eye charms hang among a jewellery display
Vik Walker, CC BY 2.0, via Wikimedia Commons

‘Mashallah, your baby is so ugly!’. 

The elderly ‘auntie’ stopped me in the street, exclaiming over my 3-month-old baby, who was strapped to my front, and before I could translate in my mind what she’d said, quick as lightning, she had safety-pinned a teeny tiny glass blue eyeball to the sling.  

I had just moved to Türkiye from the UK and was waist-deep in culture shock. My new friend explained to me that she had pinned the ‘nazar’, a little blue bead in the shape of an eye, on my baby to protect him from evil spirits or anyone's jealousy that would cause them to wish him harm. Mashallah means ‘God wills it’, and calling the baby ‘ugly’ was also for double protection, to distract the evil eye from the fact that he was cute (he was!). 

This belief in an evil eye dates back to ancient Greek and Roman times. The little blue nazar represents both the evil eye itself - a widely-feared, dangerous power that could harm others, including their crops or livelihood – and at the time offers protection against it. From Azerbaijan to Pakistan, multiple countries in central Asia and the Middle East believe in the nazar or a variation of it.  

Today, the nazar is such a deeply ingrained cultural thread of life here in Türkiye that, nine years later, I hardly notice it anymore. Nazars are the country’s unofficial brand logo, and the bright azure blue with a white iris and black pupil is the colour palette for Türkiye. 

Wherever I go, little blue eyeballs stare at me. From crinkly-faced kind teyzes (aunties) to the young influencer girls on Instagram, nazar necklaces are everywhere. Glass blue nazars decorate walls, tables, and trees. 

Just yesterday, I was at a friend's clothes studio; for her grand opening, all the gifts from well-wishing friends for her new business were nazar-themed: a tray, a paperweight, and earrings.  

So how does ‘nazar’ work? If someone compliments you or anything about you, it's believed that it can attract the evil eye with a harmful curse against you or your possessions. To cancel out the curse, there's a selection of phrases you can say, including ‘mashallah,’ or ‘Allah korusun’ (may God protect you).  

Other ways you can ward off the unwanted attention of the evil eye include avoiding staring at children in the eyes for too long, spitting on the ground, and, of course, the most popular, hanging a blue glass evil eye bead wherever you can (there is even a huge one embedded on the front door threshold of our apartment.) 

A close friend always tells me to pray a special nazar prayer over my youngest son because he has bright blue eyes, which she believes makes him more susceptible to the evil eye's powers. I respectfully tell her that I have a different belief, and I pray for my family for protection from Jesus. (Whom Muslims revere as a prophet, so this is acceptable to her). 

As a woman of faith who has lived in Türkiye for nine years, there is so much of the beautiful Turkish culture that has become mine, and for that, I am so grateful. Living cross-culturally is a little like having a heart transplant - there's no going back. My views on health, parenting, family, and community are now all so broadened and different. But the nazar trend is something I haven't adopted. When I go shopping with my girlfriends, and they browse stunning gold necklaces with a tiny ‘nazar’ embedded in the pendant, I won’t buy one for myself.  

Because faith goes one step beyond culture. 

The evil eye is based on a superstition about jealousy that has malice at its core. It wants to wreak harm on others. Now, we don’t need to look far to see that we humans are pretty good at being selfish and greedy and hurting others to get what we want. Scroll through the news for five minutes, and we’re convinced of the presence of evil in our world.  

But superstitious belief in the powers of nazar is not the way to ward it off. 

The dictionary definition of superstition is: ‘a belief or way of behaving that is based on fear of the unknown and faith in magic or luck: a belief that certain events or things will bring good or bad luck. 'Both superstition and faith are about believing in things that can’t be seen. Superstition puts it all on you to follow some rules to avoid bad luck or evil. But that’s a bit like shooting in the dark. Believing in the nazar means you can obey all the rules of the system and hang blue beads everywhere… and you can still experience evil and suffering. A loved one gets sick. Problems at work. Whatever it might be. So, either the nazar didn’t work, or you didn’t do it right. 

Faith, by contrast, still means you can experience evil and suffering – but the difference this time is, the outcome isn’t attached to a physical action you took. It's about a relationship with someone who cares about our fears rather than trusting in a blind action that may or may not work. And if we want protection from evil, we can we simply ask for it. No blue beads necessary.

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