Torch, Summer 1984

( J I anxiety and fear which people harbor towards today's computers is not unlike the suspicion and mistrust that attended the advent of writing in a logo-centric tradition thousands of years ago . Even Plato had misgivings about writing, regarding it ambigu– ously as both remedy and poison. Writing introduced absence as a major theme, signifying the demise of the speaker' s presence in the act of communication. Written text took on a life of its own and this then gave rise to the birth of reading. There 'is a real sense in which read– ing itself is a technology. It is a tech– nical operation performed upon the text. My seven year old daughter re– cently took a pencil and began to un– derline particularly meaningful por– tions of the text in her Sunday school paper. Whether she knew it or not she was taking her first steps in the direc– tion of a reading technology - her– meneutics, the science of the text. The "cash value" of what I am say– ing is that technology is nothing new. Christians write and read and have ascribed meaning and direction to these century-old technologies; this is precisely what we must do with computer technologies. One thing is certain, among those who understand computer languages, there are some who in effect are writing a new dic– tionary. The question I raise is whose values will affect how this dictionary is written? This brings me back to an earlier statement in which I said that com– puters are value-expressive . Most would contend that the computer is just a machine, a fact void of values. Let us reflect on the theoretical and epistemological (Epistemology = science of knowledge) significance of facts . In and of themselves, facts are quite meaningless. They exhibit no pattern and proclaim no relation– ships . In this sense, referring to the present era as the "Information Age" is somewhat misleading for it might lead us to suppose that the collection of information, or facts , is equivalent in meaning to having knowledge. As Poincare put it, "Science is built up of facts, as a house is built up with stones; but an accumulation of facts is no more a science than a heap of stones is a house. For facts to be meaningful, imagi– nation is necessary. There must be something conceived beyond the facts . Traditionally, philosophers have said that this is a form out of which inductive conclusions come. Based upon a careful observation of the facts, one draws an inductive con– clusion which frames a paradigm (pattern or example .) Thus a happy marriage is made between empirical fact and imaginative theory. To para– phrase Immanuel Kant, we might say that facts without theory are blind; theory without facts is empty . In the same way, no collection of facts, even those represented by the use of intricate computers, can be viewed apart from some values which are parasitical. The fact/value dichotomy that has reigned so long in our culture must be exploded . No one approaches the computer in a value-free way. Each individual who designs, programs, or uses one does so in a manner reflective of his/ her world and life view . These values act as sign posts, guiding particular uses of the machine . Hence, there cannot be value-void uses of the com– puter. The Soul of a New Machine, by Tracy Kidder, tells about the making of a new computer, manufactured by Data General in Massachusetts . It is a fascinating account and provides in– sight into the way a computer mes– merizes the individuals who work with it. It is also aprimafacie case against the dominant assumption that com– puters are merely tools, ordinary machines that simply do as they are told. It shows exactly why the idea of a value-free way of viewing the com- puter is a convenient myth . One pas– sage in particular uncovers this com– mon misconception. It is a quote from one of the leaders of the Data General project. I loved writing programs . I could control the machine, and could make it express my own thought. It was an expansion ofthe mind to have a com- puter... It really is like a drug I think... It was great for me to learn that priestly language. I could talk to God, just like IBM. This quote embodies everything that is wrong in viewing the computer as a mere machine, usually neutral, and spiritually undetermined. Note first of all the religious qual– ity of the quotation . The use of "priestly language" certainly implies a religious dimension . In addition, the progammer sees the act of writing programs as being a self-transcending experience. This is indicative of a felt-need in man to transcend himself in the direction of some higher unity, which he has called God . The question naturally arises, what kind of god is being referenced? In my judgment, this sentiment is an exaltation of the nature of man him– self: a humanism, in the pejorative sense of that term. Art, religion, and philosophy as the highest forms of self-expression are capable of making man stand in awe of himself. And he, by virtue of his incredible technical expertise, has produced a technological marvel which is in principle capable of mak– ing man see himself reflected in his technology and then to worship that reflection. Pity the man who, discov– ering in the computer the wonder– ment of what man might become, meets himself, and calls that God . That represents the ultimate blas– phemy and sacrilege of replacing God with human forms (Ro– mans 1:25). There is no such thing as value– neutrality . The Soul of the New Machine and other writings evidence this. There is no such thing as "pure" technology which isolates itself com– pletely from the insight that decides what the technology is about and what it is for. Technology has no 9