Professional Documents
Culture Documents
1. What is the Positive & Negative results brought about by Innovation & technological Advances in Information
Ages?
The Information Age began around the 1970s and is still going on today. It is also known as the
Computer Age, Digital Age, or New Media Age. This era brought about a time period in which people could
access information and knowledge easily.
The Information Age brought about many new inventions and innovations. Many communication
services like texting, email, and social media developed and the world has not been the same since. People learn
new languages easier and many books have been translated into different languages, so people around the world
can become more educated. However, the Information Age is not all good. There are people in the world that
believe they can live their entire life through the Internet. Also, huge criminal organizations rely on hacking into
government systems and obtaining confidential information to continue their way of life. Jobs have also became
easier, and some jobs can even be done from the comfort of your own home. The Information Age is also known
as the Age of Entrepreneurship. Now entrepreneurs can start and run a company easier than ever before. It also
impacts our work ethics by distracting us and causing us to lose interest in the task we are doing. This time period
has also created a shortage of jobs and making many jobs obsolete because machines are now being used to do the
work humans once did.
The convergence of medicine and machine will clearly impact the biomedical research enterprise. Factors include:
•Poiesis
In a lecture delivered in 1935 entitled An Introduction to Metaphysics, Heidegger forges what appears to
be an un-Platonic link between poetry and philosophical thinking. This lecture offers the first extensive treatment
of these two topics, to which Heidegger will dedicate a great deal of attention in the years to follow. This
apparently un-Platonic link is, in fact, only apparent, since the very concepts of thinking (noein) and poetry
(poiesis) to which Heidegger refers in this lecture are themselves un-Platonic. To be precise: they are pre-
Platonic. Turning to the PreSocratic thinkers– in this case Parmenides and Heraclitus– Heidegger retrieves a
notion of philosophical thinking supposedly more original than that of the tradition beginning with Plato and
Aristotle, for whom thinking was adapted to the model of seeing. Heidegger furthermore retrieves in Sophoclean
tragedy a concept of techne, or the 'know-how' corresponding to the activity of poiesis (Herstellen/Fabrication),
that is more original than the Platonic-Aristotelian interpretation of this concept understood as a form of mimesis.
By way of synthesis, Heidegger then tries to demonstrate the original kinship between the notions of poiesis and
noein as they were originally conceived but which, with Plato and Aristotle, become no longer accessible.
I think that prayer is the single most important theological problem facing us. It’s what I’m asked about most as I
travel and speak, and it’s the problem that vexes me most of all. When I spoke at a youth group a couple weeks
ago, I sent them off to their small groups with this question: Does God (still) do shit? That’s another way of
asking whether God is interventionist (as Jesus and Paul claims God is) and whether our utterances to God make
any difference to God’s intervention.
For the entire history of Christianity, and for the proto-Judaism that preceded it and the Judaism that parallels it,
there has been nothing more important to piety than prayer. Prayer dominates both personal and corporate piety
across all variations of Christianity and in every era.
And yet, today many people struggle to find a reason to pray, it may be time to follow Heidegger’s lead and
allow the piety of questioning to become the piety of Christianity.
Questioning has long been a practice of piety within Judaism, running right alongside prayer. This traces back to
the very beginnings of rabbinic Judaism, concomitant with the life of Jesus. Much of that questioning wisdom is
recorded in the Talmud, a sacred text that Christianity sorely lacks. In fact, it may be that the Talmud and all of
the collected midrash of the rabbis precluded the development of a Jewish “systematic theology.” Meanwhile,
many of us might say that Christianity suffers under the burden of systematic theology, bequeathed to us by
Augustine and others.
Since the beginnings of the emerging church movement in the mid-90’s, there’s been a lot of talk about openness
to questions. I’d say that’s still a high value among the churches that are the legacy of the ECM. Famously, the
logo of the Alpha Course is a question mark, but that’s a bait-and-switch, since there’s an answer at the end of
each video.
•Technology as a Way of Enframing
The German word Gestell has a number of meanings, some of which Heidegger mentions: rack,
skeleton--the basic sense is of an armature or framework. Heidegger develops a new application of this term to
describe how human beings have come to relate to the natural world.
Heidegger makes a brief detour here to justify his coining of a new term from an everyday word. He returns to the
Greek word eidos, familiar to us from the example of the chalice, and explains how Plato redefined this
word. Eidos originally designated the outward, visible appearance of an object; Plato, however, uses the word to
mean the abstract, universal essence of that object: the "chaliceness" of the chalice is the eidos. From Plato's
redefinition comes our word "idea." Heidegger's use of Gestell, or "enframing," follows a similar path: he takes a
word meaning something concrete (a bookshelf, for example), and uses it to designate something abstract.
We often hear people criticized for wanting to "put everything into boxes." This expression usually means that a
person thinks uncreatively, narrowly, with too high a regard for established categories. The "frame" metaphor in
Heidegger's concept of "enframing" corresponds to these "boxes," but for Heidegger, all of us have a tendency to
think in this way.
We noted before that nature reveals itself to us in its own terms, and all that humanity can directly control is its
orientation to the natural world. We should think of "nature" here in the broadest sense, as the entire realm of the
non-human--but also including such things as our physical bodies, over which we have only limited control. What
characterizes the essence of modern technology, for Heidegger, is the human impulse to put the world "into
boxes," to enclose all of our experiences of the world within categories of understanding--mathematical equations,
physical laws, sets of classifications--that we can control.
When Heidegger states that "the essence of technology is by no means anything technological," he means that
technology's driving force is not located in machines themselves, nor even in the various human activities that are
associated with modern modes of production. In his example of the automobile, the parts the make up the
machine as well as the labor of the factory workers all belong to technology, but are not its essence. The "frame of
mind" that views the world--its reserves of metal ore, its chemical structures, its human population--as raw
materials for the production of automobiles approaches more closely what Heidegger means by the essence of
technology. Heidegger's argument, however, is more far-reaching. He claims that enframing stems from the
human drive for a "precise" and "scientific" knowledge of the world.
Heidegger now sets out to place technology within the history of the modern sciences. He makes the remarkable
suggestion that in at least one sense modern technology comes before the development of modern physics and
actually shapes that development. This claim will make sense to us if we remember that for Heidegger the essence
of technology is that orientation to the world he calls "enframing." Insofar as the human drive for a precise,
controllable knowledge of the natural world paves the way for modern physics, we can say that "enframing," and
thus the essence of modern technology, precedes and determines the development of modern science.
Where does this enframing tendency of human thought begin? Heidegger does not answer this question here, but
rather describes the philosophical context in which that question can be asked. For Heidegger, philosophy is "the
painstaking effort to think through still more primally what was primally thought" (303). His fascination for
ancient philosophy and his interest in tracing back the meanings of words is, of course, closely related to his
larger project of uncovering the "primal" significance of important concepts. For him, what is most primal is also
the most enduring; the most fundamental concepts are those that will continue to shape the concepts that come
after.
One of Heidegger's clearest statements of what he means by "enframing" appears in his discussion of the dilemma
of modern physicists, who are discovering that that the physical world does not lend itself to measurement and
observation as readily as they once thought. Physics, Heidegger argues, is bound to a particular way of looking at
the world:
that nature reports itself in some way or other that is identifiable through calculation and that it remains orderable
as a system of information. This system is then determined by a causality that has changed once again.
The model of causality that shapes modern physics, Heidegger goes on to say, is neither the "original" Greek one
of "ways of being responsible" nor the traditional one of the four causa, but a model of "numbers crunching" in
which things exist and come into existence only insofar as they can be measured.
We often think of technology as the "application" of the discoveries of science. Much of the discipline of
"Applied Physics" is devoted to the construction and testing of useful devices. Heidegger concludes this section
by reminding us that the essence of technology precedes the historical emergence of both modern science and
modern machine production. In that sense, we might view modern science as the "application" of enframing. But
Heidegger has yet another question: what, exactly, is enframing?
Chapter 5: Human Flourishing as Reflected in Progress and Development
A stable climate system; healthy and renewed soils; clean watercourses; undamaged common resources for fresh
water, timber and game - all these have been present, if often over-exploited locally, during the era of human
civilisation and post-Ice Age development. The ultimate dependence of human wellbeing on terrestrial
ecosystems ought to be obvious, but it has taken the shocks of ozone layer depletion in the 1980s and the
diagnosis of human-induced climate change over the past 20 years to remind developed societies of the need to
sustain our terrestrial life support systems. Climate change has come to dominate political debate on ‘the
environment’, although it has yet to generate, as seen at the December 2009 Copenhagen conference, a sense of
existential urgency among decision-makers, media and citizens. But climate change is not the only phenomenon
presenting deep challenges to development and flourishing.
The political focus on climate risks downplaying many other ecological problems. These concern our ability to
produce enough food, use wisely our freshwater resources, sustain healthy soils, protect a rich variety of species
and habitats, conserve forests and the services they provide, and manage common resources fairly as scarcities
begin to bite. Climate disruption makes all this more difficult to achieve, and is likely to exacerbate many
processes already in train, such as deforestation. This has profound social and economic consequences, especially
for the poorest people in developing countries, whose livelihoods are often less shielded from localised
environmental damage than those of urban dwellers, and whose wealth is dependent on the richness of natural
resources. Ecological damage can worsen poverty, dislocation, conflict and ill-health, and put at risk achievement
of major policies such as the Millennium Development Goals. There are multiple challenges to ecological
stability, all stemming from the interaction of the rise in human population over two centuries and especially since
1950, with enormous growth in consumption in the industrialised countries and in the capacities of modern
technology.
This is summed up in the Ehrlich-Holdren ‘sustainability equation’ I=PAT, where impact I is the product of
population, affluence (a measure of rate and scale of consumption) and technology. I can be modified by
reductions in population, consumption or use of technologies, or in all of them. Impacts on climate and
ecosystems reflect all these aspects of human development, and in particular the effect of massive increases in per
capita consumption of resources (and consequent emissions of waste) in ‘developed’ countries in the past half-
century. Impact over the past two centuries has become globalised along with trade, industrialisation and
population growth. We have moved from a ‘frontier world’ in which resources appeared to be inexhaustible, to a
‘full world’ (Daly, 1992) in which scope for growth in population and consumption is highly constrained unless it
is at the expense of potentially ruinous increases in ecological impact.
The Growth Model of development, like all utilitarian schemes, focuses on individuals and their consumption
within a system of choices and consequences. It neglects the social and environmental relationships in which
people are ‘always already’ embedded. In a Christian framework, we thrive relationally, not as atomised
consumers and maximisers of utility. We need to develop in relation to God as ultimate source and destination; to
others as members of a common body of mutually obligated and responsible persons, whose individual
flourishing depends on the actions and values of others (love your neighbour as yourself); and to fellow creatures
as sources of value embedded like us in a cosmic scheme that precedes us all, a Creation that belongs not to us but
to God, and whose goodness is intrinsic and derived from God, rather than from our calculus of utility.
In environmental terms, we are embedded in a web of ecological relationships essential to our well-being and
life-chances. Moreover, this web extends indefinitely in time, and must be sustained over generations: the
injunction love thy neighbour can be seen as part of a covenant that enjoins us to ensure that the conditions for
human flourishing extend beyond our own place and time. Second, human flourishing depends on the quality of
common goods. This follows from the recognition of well-being as a relational quality. There is a limit to
individual well-being in a larger social and environmental setting in which others are failing to thrive and in
which common goods are endangered. Where peace is at risk, my individual well-being might be defensible for a
while, but I am unable to flourish indefinitely when others are suffering from the loss or decay of common goods.
The sustaining of global and local public goods essential to human flourishing is, or ought to be, fundamental to
development. Third, human flourishing is bound up with work and stewardship of the world’s resources. As Nick
Spencer notes, in Catholic Social Teaching there is an emphasis on work and its relationship to flourishing as a
whole person in right relationship with God and others.
But work and enterprise can become disconnected from both, rupturing relationship with human dignity,
exploiting people and environment, and undermining the prospects of human flourishing. Models of business and
work that are wholly instrumental, that disconnect us from concern for others’ well-being and that undermine the
public goods on which all depend are unjust and unsustainable. Our stewardship of the natural world stems from
our unique consciousness, but not from our separation from it: we are privileged creatures, but creatures all the
same. Stewardship and wise tilling of the Earth are not identical with ‘dominion’ understood as domination and
separateness. The ‘dominion’ idea has been misunderstood and abused often over the Christian centuries, and
recent ‘eco-theology’ has begun to restore a sense of human humility and interdependence to Christian views of
the natural world (see for example Barker (2010), pp 214-216; Deane-Drummond (2008); Northcott, (1996)).
‘Dominion’ in Genesis is a concept rooted in respectful use of God’s creation: it does not give permission for
domination and pillage. Ecological regulation of work and cultivation of the Earth is encapsulated in the messages
of Leviticus 25: our flourishing depends among other things on knowing when to stop and leave be. Fourth,
human flourishing is bound up with justice.
3. Development, growth and the ‘great forgetting’
‘Development’ as growth, industrialisation and urbanisation has brought great gains for humanity and also
in some ways for the natural world. Before we embark on critique of growth this must be acknowledged. Growth
and its public goods have been associated with disruptions but also with gains for billions in longevity, reduction
in vulnerability to disease and violence, improvements in health, shelter and nutrition. It could even be argued that
development-via-growth has enabled the affluent to take a positive protective interest in the natural world, an
interest of a kind that hardly existed in pre-industrial societies or industrialising ones, though it found expression
in hunter-gatherer cultures. Discussion of growth sometimes overlooks a major aspect of its impact on culture and
perception of the world. It has intensified greatly a process of distancing of people from intimacy and
identification with the natural world that arguably began with agriculture.
Hunter-gatherer societies see themselves as a part of a natural order, embedded in it and sharing a world with
other creatures. Such a world has many virtues, as well as hardships and insecurities, but it is a form of culture
now passing from experience (Brody, 2002). It is a possible model of human flourishing in habitats where
population numbers are low and sustainable. (Not that it should be romanticised - pre-industrial cultures were
often quite capable of unsustainable damage to their own or others’ environments.) With the coming of
agriculture, population rises, and identification with the created world weakens: domesticated animals have to be
protected against wild creatures and other humans; shelter has to become permanent instead of mobile, and the
local environment has to be reshaped, managed and defended. Agriculture begins a process of distancing: nature
becomes ‘other’ in ways it cannot be in hunter-gatherer and pastoralist cultures. Industrial modernity has
completed this process of distancing and in many ways has started a ‘great forgetting’ of the natural world, which
becomes seen as ‘other’ - a backdrop to our lives, a realm whose fate is subject to what we do, rather than a
creation in which we are embedded and dependent creatures. Urbanisation and technological change take us
further away from the sources of our food, water, waste disposal, etc; large-scale infrastructures screen us from
harvesting, butchering, sewage and waste management. Cities, offices and houses are amongst other things
machines for the suppression of the seasons.
Growth is associated with real gains in well-being for the poor, but beyond a given level of satisfaction of basic
needs for material goods, growth is subject to diminishing returns. (The problem for the affluent is knowing when
and how to stop and change course, since diminishing returns are returns all the same, not easily perceived as
signs of impending trouble, whether at the personal or societal level.) Gains in, and sustained experience of, well-
being are linked not mainly, if at all, to growth in consumption, but to social and environmental goods - family,
friends, work, peace, love and purposefulness. Growth can create ‘positional competition’ that generates social
frictions and does not increase well-being even if it offers more material plenty. Numerous economists have
tackled these issues and connected them to the ecological case against indefinite growth on the finite Earth.
He sketches some of the essential ingredients for a transition away from the Growth Model: - radical revision of
accounting systems to take account of ecological goods and services; - investment in low-carbon and low-
throughput, highly resource-efficient food and manufacturing production technologies, buildings, energy and
water infrastructures and assets; - investment in labour-intensive services and in reduced working hours per job ; -
tackling the ‘social logic’ of growth and consumerism- strengthening social capital, reducing inequalities and
‘dismantling the culture of consumerism’. The final point here is crucial. If there is no technological rescue for the
fossil-fuel growth model as we know it, then a coordinated ‘descent’ from current high-impact and high-carbon
modes of consumption is needed, and it must be led by the ‘haves’ globally so that the poor can have growth in
consumption and living standards without breaching ecological limits. Critics of growth economics all converge
on the need not only for a new ‘engine’ for energy supply, but also for a rediscovery by the West of frugality,
conviviality, cultural restraints on consumption, sharing, empathy and mutuality, and appreciation of the natural
world and our place in it.
An urgent task in the wake of the hobbling of the climate change negotiations and of slow progress in other areas
(such as fisheries) is to learn from this important body of work. Ostrom’s work underlines the effectiveness of
community-scale resource management in sustaining harvests and avoiding ecological overload or depletion.
Much damage has arisen from neglect or destruction of such local knowledge and practice. RP Chhetri of World
Mission for Nepal (personal communication) notes the impact of misdirected aid or development conditions
imposed by agencies such as the IMF and World Bank on countries such as Nepal, under-valuing and preventing
the involvement of local people in assessing new technologies and their impact. Local knowledge of sustainable
use of forests has been neglected, yet can hold the key to sustainable development and wise use of resources. For
instance, recent research indicates (Chhatre and Agarwal, 2009) that community ownership of forests is
associated with much better rates of carbon sequestration in a large sample of tropical forests than is state
ownership.
Ostrom’s principles have clear connections to classic elements of Catholic Social Teaching such as solidarity and
subsidiarity, two indispensable features for example of any global deal for equitable management of climate
change and emissions reduction. Solidarity is vital because it underpins motivations and virtues for implementing
policies for fairness within and between peoples and generations. Subsidiarity - the principle of decision-making
at the nearest level of governance to those affected by the decisions - relates to the need for environmental
management to be undertaken and controlled by people as close as possible to the ecosystems in question.
Remoteness of decision-making, as seen time and again in cases of ‘imposed development’ (such as major dam
projects, state concessions to loggers of forests) tends to be bad for ecosystems, self-defeating in economics, and
damaging to human flourishing. Ostrom’s research also points clearly to the ‘fit’ between sustainable resource
management and particular models of ownership and enterprise: towards mutuality, cooperatives, community
enterprises and small business associations.