In my previous post, I highlighted the important contributions Andy Crouch’s The Life We’re Looking For makes to the dialogue between faith and technology. Using compelling examples, the author argues for returning to the primacy of face-to-face human relationships in a world of disconnection driven by techno-capitalism. This is a powerful and necessary reminder that is worth repeating here.
I would be remiss, however, if I limited my review to this point. In part 2, I dive into the areas where Andy Crouch’s book fell short in expanding this conversation. By starting with a narrow definition of technology, the author missed an opportunity to rethink it and reshape it into a true ally of human flourishing. This may sound like a small tweak, but it makes all the difference. Given how pervasively emerging technologies inhabit our current ecosystem, a narrow definition is bound to lead to unsustainable solutions.
Defining What Technology Is
Andy Crouch does a good job identifying the insidious erosion techno-capitalism is exerting in society. It is unfortunate, however, that he equates technology with techno-capitalism. They are not the same thing. For example, the Internet is a great example of technology. The process of turning it into profit by large Silicon Valley companies is techno-capitalism. The first created a new environment for the free flow of information that connected the world. The second exploited this connection to maximize profit.
Just because our current encounter with technology is mostly mediated by techno-capitalism does not mean the two are the same. This may seem like a small distinction, but it is an important one in the dialogue between faith and technology. If technology is techno-capitalism, then the role of faith will often be one of resistance. While this role is important and necessary, limiting faith to a posture of resistance misses the opportunity to imagine ways in which technology can lead to flourishing.
While Andy provided a few examples of technology enhancing one’s humanity, I finished the book with the impression that his alternative vision was really a turn away from screens and toward more embodied forms of community. This argument, however, undermines and ignores the transformative ways in which technologies (including those mediated through techno-capitalism) have expanded and connected our flourishing. Hence, his narrow view of technology closed the door to how it can contribute to the good.
Lost Connection with Nature
The book’s subtitle, Reclaiming Relationship in a Technological World, informs us upfront that the book is about valuing relationships. Implied in that view is an anthropocentric view of relationships, focusing on communion between humans. This can be often assumed and taken for granted, but it becomes problematic in the dialogue of faith and technology.
Humans also have an intricate and visceral relationship to nature, both our environment and other species of life. Technology has often, maybe always, been a means of moving us beyond the limitations of nature. From our early ancestors, we can find traces of tool-making indicating the human drive to impact our environment toward the survival and flourishing of our species. The sheer existence of nearly 8 billion of us is a testament to the success of this strategy. We became our ancestors’ dreams, albeit at a great cost to the earth. Given technology’s central role in this progression, one cannot speak of it and ignore how it has transformed our relationship with nature.
While we may have built our towering civilizations, we still feel like we were kicked out of the garden. While techno-capitalism may have separated us from one another, technology itself has separated us from the dust from which we came. The work of re-imagining technology then must include in its ethos a purposeful return to nature. It does not mean necessarily forsaking devices and going back to a primal lifestyle, but it does mean re-thinking technology in a way that not only optimizes the flourishing of all life.
In a time of climate crisis, this work becomes all the more important. Hence, in my perspective, it must be present in any discussion of faith and technology. Unfortunately, there was nothing in Andy’s book to address this issue.
Limited Christian Imagination
Lastly, Andy Crouch’s book missed the mark by appealing little to the rich Christian imagination. Opting for a narrow focus on selected New Testament texts, the author ignored a wealth of Christian tradition on the topic of technology. That includes the biblical books of Genesis and Isaiah, as well as writers like Francis Bacon, Jacques Ellul, Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, and Illia Deo. Crouch’s discussion could have been greatly enriched by interacting with them–not necessarily agreeing or propagating their perspective, but at least using them as conversation partners in building a 21st-century vision for technology.
Starting with a narrow view of technology and engaging with a limited range of Christian tradition inevitably led to a constricted view of what Christian community can look like in a technological age. The result becomes a failure of imagination, one that we can no longer afford to have where growing techno-capitalism accelerates planetary degradation. As much as a return to household and community can restore and improve human relationships, it does not address our disconnection from nature. Furthermore, it ignores our call to be co-creators with God for a flourishing future.
As an alternative, one does not need to look too far within the Bible itself to find a powerful metaphor to catalyze Christian imagination. In the 11th chapter of Isaiah, the prophet imagines a world where the wolf will live with the lamb and the infant will play near the cobra’s den. The prophet’s multiple images speak of a nature restored from strife to peace, from languishing to flourishing. If we want to inspire a Christian vision for technology in our time, that is a good place to start.
