Professional Documents
Culture Documents
Glossary 258
Notes 281
References 283
Index 303
for fun, or as a force behind job losses and deskilling. Can we actually step
back as neutral observers? It is hard to imagine a world without technology.
Indeed, technology has been a part of human existence since the Stone Age,
when humans used stones, bones, and sticks as tools for survival. But study-
ing technology can help us become more aware of its role in our personal
lives, in the lives of other social groups and their struggles, and in our society
as a whole. Moreover, systematic analysis of design, implementation, and
use allow us to develop theories of the intersection of technology and society.
This type of analysis provides us with necessary background knowledge and
tools to embark on social, socio-political, and cultural studies of our own
socio-technical existence. As a result, this book provides a solid understand-
ing of technology’s role in society and gives students the tools they need to
embark on a critical and in-depth inquiry of our technological society.
the chapter also covers two of the main contemporary perspectives surround-
ing the use of technology in modern society. The first is simulation, which
is geared toward the development of tools that can resemble or outperform
human faculties. The second perspective is augmentation, which attempts to
integrate machines and humans into new hybrid actors with added capabil-
ities. Both of these perspectives highlight the many points of intersection
of the human and the technological, raising important questions about the
ethical, moral, and societal implications of endeavours such as augmentation
and simulation.
Anabel Quan-Haase
July 2015
Learning Objectives
to understand the challenges in defining and studying technology;
to obtain an overview of historical definitions of technology and their strengths and
limitations;
to learn about the complexity of defining technology as not merely material substance,
but rather as a complex assemblage;
to examine contemporary perspectives of technology that blur the boundaries of
machine and human elements.
Introduction
This introductory chapter highlights the relevance of investigating the inter-
section of technology and society. It is easy to dismiss technology as a mere
object, without giving much consideration to how it is woven into our every-
day lives. Technology provides a means for us, its users, to get things done.
Without giving it much thought, we leave our homes every morning with
our cellphones (often more than one), laptops, MP3 players (such as iPods),
headphones, watches, and other gadgets. Only when our technology fails
us do we suddenly realize the depth of our dependence on that technology.
There is frustration and sometimes even a sense of panic when we forget
our cellphone at home (or worse, when we lose it!). Our cellphones’ digital
address books have become an extension of our memory, storing hundreds
of names, phone numbers, and email addresses. Facebook pictures, posts,
and updates are digital footprints of our e-identity, our digital selves. This
ubiquity of and dependence on technology raises questions about its use as a
means to enhance, complement, or even substitute human faculties and the
ethical implications this close interlink has for our society. As long as tech-
nology works smoothly, it is simply part of our daily life, part of what keeps
society as a whole functioning. But when it fails, or when its use crosses eth-
ical boundaries, we come to realize that it is actually another “actor,” even
if non-human, in a complex web of relations. To demonstrate this balance
between ethics and technological use, this chapter presents and discusses
Box
1.1 The Facebook Experiment
In the July 2014 issue of Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences of the
United States of America, an article was published providing evidence of emo-
tional contagion through the exposure to content on social networking sites such
as Facebook. The article described how in 2012 a team consisting of two scholars,
Jeffrey T. Hancock and Jamie Guillory, and a Facebook computational social scien-
tist, Adam D.I. Kramer, conducted a series of large-scale experiments to debunk
an assumption widely held by users. The assumption was that watching Facebook
friends post content with positive emotionality made people feel resentful, leading
to feelings of inadequacy, envy, and perhaps even depression. In other words, seeing
others having fun, being popular among peers, and enjoying themselves may stir
negative emotions in onlookers.
To test this assumption, Kramer et al. (2014) manipulated the content that a
select group of Facebook users viewed on their news feeds. The experiments ran
for a one-week period from 11 January to 18 January 2012. To avoid bias, partici-
pants were randomly selected, yielding a sample of about 155,000 per condition. In
one condition, negative content was removed from participants’ news feeds; in the
other, positive content was removed. Hence, the selected Facebook users saw con-
tent biased toward either positive or negative emotionality. The researchers then
recorded the emotionality of the posts made under each condition.
The findings are illuminating in several ways. First, through the manipulation of
content, users’ posts can be influenced. Those Facebook users who saw less nega-
tive content posted more positive content themselves and vice versa. This clearly
shows that through manipulating content on these sites, users’ emotionality can
also be controlled. Second, the more emotional the content, the more engagement
was observed in general. The authors concluded that the lack of emotionality on
these sites is probably the single most detrimental factor for engagement:
We also observed a withdrawal effect: People who were exposed to fewer
emotional posts (of either valence) in their news feeds were less expressive
overall on the following days, addressing the question about how emotional
expression affects social engagement online. (p. 8790)
Finally, there are ethical questions concerning how the experiments were con-
ducted, which ultimately led Facebook to apologize to its users. Of course, con-
ducting experiments is not necessarily a problem in and of itself, in principle, and
is common practice in many disciplines. For example, much of what we know about
drug efficacy for the treatment of mental health comes from knowledge gained
through experimental design. However, the media, academics, and the general pub-
lic all harshly criticized how this particular experiment was conducted because of its
ethical implications and methodological shortcomings. The primary reason for the
upheaval centred on the fact that those who were included in the experiment were
not informed about their participation, something referred to as informed consent,
nor were they properly debriefed. Debriefing is a central part of experimental design,
Continued
sites in general, and that what we see can easily be manipulated and modi-
fied through computer algorithms.
2. Technology as Knowledge
In the same way that technology is closely interlinked with science, it is
also closely connected to knowledge. At the most basic level, “[t]echnology
1. Ideas: Ideas are at one end of the spectrum, representing the thought
processes that precede the tool, which is often referred to as the techno-
logical imagination. Ideas about what objects are useful motivate design
and development.
2. Design: Design is in the middle of the spectrum, mediating between the
abstract idea and the object. Design is the step that is required to go
from idea to tool development and is where craftsmanship is needed.
Charles S. Grossman
Near most houses was a smokehouse in which meat
was cured and often stored for later use.
Charles S. Grossman
Fruits and other goods were stored in barns or sheds,
often located over cool springs.
Edouard E. Exline
Food also was stored in pie safes. The pierced tin
panels allow air into the cabinet but prevent flies from
getting at the food.
Living off the land required both labor and ingenuity. These early
settlers did not mind fishing and hunting for food throughout the
spring, summer, and early fall, but there were also the demands of
farming and livestock raising. They carved out of wood such
essentials as ox yokes and wheat cradles, spinning wheels and
looms. Men patiently rebuilt and repaired anything from a broken
harness to a sagging “shake” roof made of hand-riven shingles.
Children picked quantities of wild berries and bushels of beans in
sun-hot fields and gathered eggs from hidden hen nests in barn lofts
and under bushes. They found firewood for the family, carried water
from the spring, bundled fodder from cane and corn, and stacked
hay for the cattle, horses, mules, and oxen.
Women made sure that the food supply stretched to last through the
winter. They helped salt and cure pork from the hogs that their
husbands slaughtered. They employed a variety of methods to
preserve vital fruits and vegetables. Apples, as well as beans, were
carefully dried in the hot summer or autumn sun; water, added
months later, would restore a tangy flavor. Some foods were pickled
in brine or vinegar.
Women also used sulphur as a preservative, especially with apples.
Called simply “fruit” by the early settlers, apples such as the favorite
Limbertwigs and Milams gave both variety and nutrition to the
pioneer diet. A woman might peel and slice as much as two
dishpans of “fruit” into a huge barrel. She would then lay a pan of
sulphur on top of the apples and light the contents. By covering the
barrel with a clean cloth, she could regulate the right amount of
fumes held inside. The quickly sulfurated apples remained white all
winter and were considered a delicacy by every mountain family.
Food, clothing, shelter, and incessant labor: these essentials formed
only the foundation of a life. Intangible forces hovered at the edges
and demanded
fulfillment. As hardy
and practical as the
physical existence of
the pioneers had to
be, there was
another dimension
to life. The pioneers
were human beings.
Often isolated,
sometimes lonely,
they yearned for the
comforts of myth
and superstition and
religion—and the
roads that led in and
out. The Cherokees
in their time had
created such
comforts; they had
woven their myths
and had laced the
Smokies with a
network of trails.
Now it was the white
man’s turn.
The early settlers of
the Great Smoky
Mountains were not Aiden Stevens
content to remain
only in their hidden In the days before refrigerators,
hollows and on their many methods and kinds of
tiny homesteads. containers were used in preserving
Challenging the and storing foods. Corn meal, dried
mountain ranges beans and other vegetables, and
and the rough sulphured fruits were kept in bins
terrain, they made from hollow black gum logs.
constructed roads.
In the mid-1830s, a project was undertaken to lay out a road across
the crest of the Smokies and connect North Carolina’s Little
Tennessee valley with potential markets in Knoxville, Tennessee.
Although the North Carolina section was never completed, an old
roadbed from Cades Cove to Spence Field is still in existence. When
Julius Gregg established a licensed distillery in Cades Cove and
processed brandy from apples and corn, farmers built a road from
the cove down Tabcat Creek to the vast farmlands along the Little
Tennessee River.
By far the most ambitious road project was the Oconaluftee
Turnpike. In 1832, the North Carolina legislature chartered the
Oconaluftee Turnpike Company. Abraham Enloe, Samuel Sherrill,
John Beck, John Carroll, and Samuel Gibson were commissioners
for the road and were authorized to sell stock and collect tolls. The
road itself was to run from Oconaluftee all the way to the top of the
Smokies at Indian Gap.
Work on the road progressed slowly. Bluffs and cliffs had to be
avoided; such detours lengthened the turnpike considerably.
Sometimes the rock was difficult to remove. Crude blasting—
complete with hand-hammered holes, gunpowder inside hollow
reeds, and fuses of straw or leaves—constituted one quick and sure,
but more expensive, method. Occasionally, the men burned logs
around the rock, then quickly showered it with creek water. When the
rock split from the sudden change in temperature, it could then be
quarried and graded out. Throughout the 1830s, residents of
Oconaluftee and nearby valleys toiled and sweated to lay down this
single roadbed.
This desire and effort to conquer the wilderness also prompted the
establishment of churches and, to a lesser extent, schools. In the
Tennessee Sugarlands, services were held under the trees until a
small building was constructed at the beginning of the 19th century.
The valley built a larger five-cornered Baptist church in 1816.
Prospering Cades Cove established a Methodist church in 1830; its
preacher rode the Little River circuit. Five years later, the church had
40 members.
Over on the Oconaluftee, Ralph Hughes had donated land and Dr.
John Mingus had built a log schoolhouse. Monthly prayer meetings
were held there until the Lufty Baptist Church was officially organized
in 1836. Its 21 charter members included most of the turnpike
commissioners plus the large Mingus family. Five years later, the
members built a log church at Smokemont on land donated by John
Beck.
Nothing fostered these settlers’ early gropings toward community
more than stories. Legends and tall tales, begun in family
conversations and embellished by neighborly rumor, forged a bond,
a unity of interest, a common history, in each valley and on each
meandering branch. For example, in one western North Carolina
tradition that would thrive well into the 20th century, Abraham Enloe
was cited as the real father of Abraham Lincoln. Nancy Hanks, it was
asserted, had worked for a time in the Enloe household and had
become pregnant. Exiled to Kentucky, she married Thomas Lincoln
but gave birth to Abraham’s child.
Stories mingled with superstition. The Cherokees dropped seven
grains into every corn hill and never thinned their crop. Many early
settlers of the Smokies believed that if corn came up missing in
spots, some of the family would die within a year. Just as the
Cherokees forbade counting green melons or stepping across the
vines because “it would make the vines wither,” the Smokies settlers
looked upon certain events as bad omens. A few days before
Richard Reagan’s skull was fractured, a bird flew on the porch where
he sat and came to rest on his head. Reagan himself saw it as a
“death sign.”
Superstition, combined with Indian tradition, led to a strangely exact
form of medicine. One recipe for general aches and pains consisted
of star root, sourwood, rosemary, sawdust, anvil dust, water, and
vinegar. A bad memory required a properly “sticky” tea made of
cocklebur and jimsonweed.
A chief medicinal herb was an unusual wild plant known as ginseng.
Called “sang” in mountain vernacular, its value lay in the manlike
shape of its dual-pronged roots. Oriental cultures treasured ginseng,