QUESTIONS FOR REFLECTION:

1. How is technology a mode of revealing?

Technology as Revealing

Heidegger’s concern with technology is not limited to his writings that are
explicitly dedicated to it, and a full appreciation of his views on technology
requires some understanding of how the problem of technology fits into his
broader philosophical project and phenomenological approach. (Phenomenology,
for Heidegger, is a method that tries to let things show themselves in their own
way, and not see them in advance through a technical or theoretical lens.) The
most important argument in Being and Time that is relevant for Heidegger’s later
thinking about technology is that theoretical activities such as the natural sciences
depend on views of time and space that narrow the understanding implicit in how
we deal with the ordinary world of action and concern. We cannot construct
meaningful distance and direction, or understand the opportunities for action,
from science’s neutral, mathematical understanding of space and time. Indeed,
this detached and “objective” scientific view of the world restricts our everyday
understanding. Our ordinary use of things and our “concernful dealings” within
the world are pathways to a more fundamental and more truthful understanding of
man and being than the sciences provide; science flattens the richness of ordinary
concern. By placing science back within the realm of experience from which it
originates, and by examining the way our scientific understanding of time, space,
and nature derives from our more fundamental experience of the world,
Heidegger, together with his teacher Husserl and some of his students such as
Jacob Klein and Alexandre Koyré, helped to establish new ways of thinking about
the history and philosophy of science.

Heidegger applies this understanding of experience in later writings that

are focused explicitly on technology, where he goes beyond the traditional view
of technology as machines and technical procedures. He instead tries to think
through the essence of technology as a way in which we encounter entities
generally, including nature, ourselves, and, indeed, everything. Heidegger’s most
influential work on technology is the lecture “The Question Concerning
Technology,” published in 1954, which was a revised version of part two of a
four-part lecture series he delivered in Bremen in 1949 (his first public speaking
appearance since the end of the war). These Bremen lectures have recently
been translated into English, for the first time, by Andrew J. Mitchell.

Introducing the Bremen lectures, Heidegger observes that because of

technology, “all distances in time and space are shrinking” and “yet the hasty
setting aside of all distances brings no nearness; for nearness does not consist in a
small amount of distance.” The lectures set out to examine what this nearness is
that remains absent and is “even warded off by the restless removal of distances.”
As we shall see, we have become almost incapable of experiencing this nearness,
let alone understanding it, because all things increasingly present themselves to us
as technological: we see them and treat them as what Heidegger calls a “standing
reserve,” supplies in a storeroom, as it were, pieces of inventory to be ordered and
conscripted, assembled and disassembled, set up and set aside. Everything
approaches us merely as a source of energy or as something we must organize.
We treat even human capabilities as though they were only means for
technological procedures, as when a worker becomes nothing but an instrument
for production. Leaders and planners, along with the rest of us, are mere human
resources to be arranged, rearranged, and disposed of. Each and every thing that
presents itself technologically thereby loses its distinctive independence and form.
We push aside, obscure, or simply cannot see, other possibilities.

Common attempts to rectify this situation don’t solve the problem and instead are
part of it. We tend to believe that technology is a means to our ends and a human
activity under our control. But in truth we now conceive of means, ends, and
ourselves as fungible and manipulable. Control and direction are technological
control and direction. Our attempts to master technology still remain within its
walls, reinforcing them. As Heidegger says in the third of his Bremen lectures,
“all this opining concerning technology” — the common critique of technology
that denounces its harmful effects, as well as the belief that technology is nothing
but a blessing, and especially the view that technology is a neutral tool to be
wielded either for good or evil — all of this only shows “how the dominance of
the essence of technology orders into its plundering even and especially the
human conceptions concerning technology.” This is because “with all these
conceptions and valuations one is from the outset unwittingly in agreement that
technology would be a means to an end.” This “instrumental” view of technology
is correct, but it “does not show us technology’s essence.” It is correct because it
sees something pertinent about technology, but it is essentially misleading and not
true because it does not see how technology is a way that all entities, not merely
machines and technical processes, now present themselves.

Of course, were there no way out of technological thinking, Heidegger’s

own standpoint, however sophisticated, would also be trapped within it. He
attempts to show a way out — a way to think about technology that is not itself
beholden to technology. This leads us into a realm that will be familiar to those
acquainted with Heidegger’s work on “being,” the central issue in Being and
Time and one that is also prominent in some of the Bremen lectures. The basic
phenomenon that belongs together with being is truth, or “revealing,” which is the
phenomenon Heidegger brings forward in his discussion in “The Question
Concerning Technology.” Things can show or reveal themselves to us in different
ways, and it is attention to this that will help us recognize that technology is itself
one of these ways, but only one. Other kinds of revealing, and attention to the
realm of truth and being as such, will allow us to “experience the technological
within its own bounds.”

Only then will “another whole realm for the essence of technology ... open
itself up to us. It is the realm of revealing, i.e., of truth.” Placing ourselves back in
this realm avoids the reduction of things and of ourselves to mere supplies and
reserves. This step, however, does not guarantee that we will fully enter, live
within, or experience this realm. Nor can we predict what technology’s fate or
ours will be once we do experience it. We can at most say that older and more
enduring ways of thought and experience might be reinvigorated and re-inspired.
Heidegger believes his work to be preparatory, illuminating ways of being and of
being human that are not merely technological.

One way by which Heidegger believes he can enter this realm is by

attending to the original meaning of crucial words and the phenomena they reveal.
Original language — words that precede explicit philosophical, technological, and
scientific thought and sometimes survive in colloquial speech — often shows
what is true more tellingly than modern speech does. (Some poets are for
Heidegger better guides on the quest for truth than professional philosophers.)
The two decisive languages, Heidegger thinks, are Greek and German; Greek
because our philosophical heritage derives its terms from it (often in distorted
form), and German, because its words can often be traced to an origin undistorted
by philosophical reflection or by Latin interpretations of the Greek. (Some critics
believe that Heidegger’s reliance on what they think are fanciful etymologies
warps his understanding.)
 Much more worrisome, however, is that Heidegger’s thought, while
promising a comprehensive view of the essence of technology, by virtue of its
inclusiveness threatens to blur distinctions that are central to human concerns.
Moreover, his emphasis on technology’s broad and uncanny scope ignores or
occludes the importance and possibility of ethical and political choice. This
twofold problem is most evident in the best-known passage from the second
Bremen lecture: “Agriculture is now a mechanized food industry, in essence the
same as the production of corpses in the gas chambers and extermination camps,
the same as the blockading and starving of countries, the same as the production
of hydrogen bombs.” From what standpoint could mechanized agriculture and the
Nazis’ extermination camps be “in essence the same”? If there is such a
standpoint, should it not be ignored or at least modified because it overlooks or
trivializes the most significant matters of choice, in this case the ability to detect
and deal with grave injustice? Whatever the full and subtle meaning of “in
essence the same” is, Heidegger fails to address the difference in ethical weight
between the two phenomena he compares, or to show a path for just political
choice. While Heidegger purports to attend to concrete, ordinary experience, he
does not consider seriously justice and injustice as fundamental aspects of this
experience. Instead, Heidegger claims that what is “horrifying” is not any of
technology’s particular harmful effects but “what transposes ... all that is out of its
previous essence” — that is to say, what is dangerous is that technology displaces
beings from what they originally were, hindering our ability to experience them
truly.

Reference: https://www.thenewatlantis.com/publications/understanding-
heidegger-on-technology

2. In your daily experience of technology, what else is revealed

to you made from the functions?

Human identity, the idea that defines each and every one of us, could be
facing an unprecedented crisis. It is a crisis that would threaten long-held notions
of who we are, what we do and how we behave. It goes right to the heart - or the
head - of us all. This crisis could reshape how we interact with each other, alter
what makes us happy, and modify our capacity for reaching our full potential as
individuals. And it's caused by one simple fact: the human brain, that most
sensitive of organs, is under threat from the modern world.

Unless we wake up to the damage that the gadget-filled, pharmaceutically-

enhanced 21st century is doing to our brains, we could be sleepwalking towards a
future in which neuro-chip technology blurs the line between living and non-
living machines, and between our bodies and the outside world. It would be a
world where such devices could enhance our muscle power, or our senses, beyond
the norm, and where we all take a daily cocktail of drugs to control our moods
and performance.

Already, an electronic chip is being developed that could allow a paralysed

patient to move a robotic limb just by thinking about it. As for drug manipulated
moods, they're already with us - although so far only to a medically prescribed
extent.

Increasing numbers of people already take Prozac for depression, Paxil as an

antidote for shyness, and give Ritalin to children to improve their concentration.
But what if there were still more pills to enhance or "correct" a range of other
specific mental functions?

What would such aspirations to be "perfect" or "better" do to our notions of

identity, and what would it do to those who could not get their hands on the pills?
Would some finally have become more equal than others, as George Orwell
always feared?

Of course, there are benefits from technical progress - but there are great
dangers as well, and I believe that we are seeing some of those today.

I'm a neuroscientist and my day-to-day research at Oxford University strives for

an ever greater understanding - and therefore maybe, one day, a cure - for
Alzheimer's disease.

But one vital fact I have learnt is that the brain is not the unchanging organ
that we might imagine. It not only goes on developing, changing and, in some
tragic cases, eventually deteriorating with age, it is also substantially shaped by
what we do to it and by the experience of daily life. When I say "shaped", I'm not
talking figuratively or metaphorically; I'm talking literally. At a microcellular
level, the infinitely complex network of nerve cells that make up the constituent
parts of the brain actually change in response to certain experiences and stimuli.

The brain, in other words, is malleable - not just in early childhood but
right up to early adulthood, and, in certain instances, beyond. The surrounding
environment has a huge impact both on the way our brains develop and how that
brain is transformed into a unique human mind.

Of course, there's nothing new about that: human brains have been
changing, adapting and developing in response to outside stimuli for centuries.

What prompted me to write my book is that the pace of change in the

outside environment and in the development of new technologies has increased
dramatically. This will affect our brains over the next 100 years in ways we might
never have imagined.

Our brains are under the influence of an ever- expanding world of new
technology: multichannel television, video games, MP3 players, the internet,
wireless networks, Bluetooth links - the list goes on and on.

But our modern brains are also having to adapt to other 21st century
intrusions, some of which, such as prescribed drugs like Ritalin and Prozac, are
supposed to be of benefit, and some of which, such as widelyavailable illegal
drugs like cannabis and heroin, are not.

Electronic devices and pharmaceutical drugs all have an impact on the

micro- cellular structure and complex biochemistry of our brains. And that, in
turn, affects our personality, our behaviour and our characteristics. In short, the
modern world could well be altering our human identity.

Three hundred years ago, our notions of human identity were vastly
simpler: we were defined by the family we were born into and our position within
that family. Social advancement was nigh on impossible and the concept of
"individuality" took a back seat.

That only arrived with the Industrial Revolution, which for the first time
offered rewards for initiative, ingenuity and ambition. Suddenly, people had their
own life stories - ones which could be shaped by their own thoughts and actions.
For the first time, individuals had a real sense of self.

But with our brains now under such widespread attack from the modern
world, there's a danger that that cherished sense of self could be diminished or
even lost.

Anyone who doubts the malleability of the adult brain should consider a
startling piece of research conducted at Harvard Medical School. There, a group
of adult volunteers, none of whom could previously play the piano, were split into
three groups.
 The first group were taken into a room with a piano and given intensive
piano practise for five days. The second group were taken into an identical room
with an identical piano - but had nothing to do with the instrument at all.

And the third group were taken into an identical room with an identical
piano and were then told that for the next five days they had to just imagine they
were practising piano exercises.

The resultant brain scans were extraordinary. Not surprisingly, the brains
of those who simply sat in the same room as the piano hadn't changed at all.

Equally unsurprising was the fact that those who had performed the piano
exercises saw marked structural changes in the area of the brain associated with
finger movement.

But what was truly astonishing was that the group who had merely
imagined doing the piano exercises saw changes in brain structure that were
almost as pronounced as those that had actually had lessons. "The power of
imagination" is not a metaphor, it seems; it's real, and has a physical basis in your
brain.

Alas, no neuroscientist can explain how the sort of changes that the
Harvard experimenters reported at the micro-cellular level translate into changes
in character, personality or behaviour. But we don't need to know that to realise
that changes in brain structure and our higher thoughts and feelings are
incontrovertibly linked.

What worries me is that if something as innocuous as imagining a piano

lesson can bring about a visible physical change in brain structure, and therefore
some presumably minor change in the way the aspiring player performs, what
changes might long stints playing violent computer games bring about? That
eternal teenage protest of 'it's only a game, Mum' certainly begins to ring
alarmingly hollow.

Already, it's pretty clear that the screen-based, two dimensional world that
so many teenagers - and a growing number of adults - choose to inhabit is
producing changes in behaviour. Attention spans are shorter, personal
communication skills are reduced and there's a marked reduction in the ability to
think abstractly.

This games-driven generation interpret the world through screen-shaped

eyes. It's almost as if something hasn't really happened until it's been posted on
Facebook, Bebo or YouTube.
 Add that to the huge amount of personal information now stored on the
internet - births, marriages, telephone numbers, credit ratings, holiday pictures -
and it's sometimes difficult to know where the boundaries of our individuality
actually lie. Only one thing is certain: those boundaries are weakening.

And they could weaken further still if, and when, neurochip technology
becomes more widely available. These tiny devices will take advantage of the
discovery that nerve cells and silicon chips can happily co-exist, allowing an
interface between the electronic world and the human body. One of my colleagues
recently suggested that someone could be fitted with a cochlear implant (devices
that convert sound waves into electronic impulses and enable the deaf to hear) and
a skull-mounted micro- chip that converts brain waves into words (a prototype is
under research).

Then, if both devices were connected to a wireless network, we really

would have arrived at the point which science fiction writers have been getting
excited about for years. Mind reading!

He was joking, but for how long the gag remains funny is far from clear.

Today's technology is already producing a marked shift in the way we

think and behave, particularly among the young.

I mustn't, however, be too censorious, because what I'm talking about is

pleasure. For some, pleasure means wine, women and song; for others, more
recently, sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll; and for millions today, endless hours at the
computer console.

But whatever your particular variety of pleasure (and energetic sport needs
to be added to the list), it's long been accepted that 'pure' pleasure - that is to say,
activity during which you truly "let yourself go" - was part of the diverse portfolio
of normal human life. Until now, that is.

Now, coinciding with the moment when technology and pharmaceutical

companies are finding ever more ways to have a direct influence on the human
brain, pleasure is becoming the sole be-all and end-all of many lives, especially
among the young.

We could be raising a hedonistic generation who live only in the thrill of

the computer-generated moment, and are in distinct danger of detaching
themselves from what the rest of us would consider the real world.
 This is a trend that worries me profoundly. For as any alcoholic or drug
addict will tell you, nobody can be trapped in the moment of pleasure forever.
Sooner or later, you have to come down.

I'm certainly not saying all video games are addictive (as yet, there is not
enough research to back that up), and I genuinely welcome the new generation of
"brain-training" computer games aimed at keeping the little grey cells active for
longer.

Reference: https://www.dailymail.co.uk/sciencetech/article-565207/Modern-
technology-changing-way-brains-work-says-neuroscientist.html

3. Why should technology have questioned?

When I speak at conferences, I've noticed that people are increasingly asking
me about the unintended consequences of technological advance. As our
technology becomes almost unimaginably powerful, there is growing
apprehension and fear that we will be unable to control what we create.

This, of course, isn't anything new. When trains first appeared,

many worried that human bodies would melt at the high speeds. In ancient
Greece, Plato argued that the invention of writing would destroy conversation.
None of these things ever came to pass, of course, but clearly technology has
changed the world for good and bad.

The truth is that we can't fully control technology any more than we can fully
control nature or each other. The emergence of significant new technologies
unleash forces we can't hope to understand at the outset and struggle to deal with
long after. Yet the most significant issues are most likely to be social in nature
and those are the ones we desperately need to focus on.

The Frankenstein Archetype

It's no accident that Mary Shelley's novel Frankenstein was published

roughly the same time the Luddite movement was in full swing. As cottage
industries were replaced by smoke belching factories, the sense that man's
creations could turn against him was palpable and the gruesome tale, considered
by many to be the first true work of science fiction, touched a nerve.

In many ways, trepidation about technology can be healthy. Concern about

industrialization led to social policies that helped mitigate its worst effects. In
much the same way, scientists concerned about the threat of nuclear Armageddon
did much to help establish policies that would prevent it.

Yet the initial fears almost always prove to be unfounded. While the
Luddites burned mills and smashed machines to prevent their economic
disenfranchisement, the industrial age led to a rise in the living standards of
working people. In a similar vein, more advanced weapons has coincided with
a reduction of violent deaths throughout history.

On the other hand, the most challenging aspects of technological advance

are often things that we do not expect. While industrialization led to rising
incomes, it also led to climate change, something neither the fears of the Luddites
nor the creative brilliance of Shelley could have ever conceived of.

The New Frankensteins

Today, the technologies we create will shape the world as never before.
Artificially intelligent systems are automating not only physical, but cognitive
labor. Gene editing techniques, such as CRISPR, are enabling us to reengineer life
itself. Digital and social media have reshaped human discourse.

So it's not surprising that there are newfound fears about where it's all
going. A study at Oxford found that 47% of US jobs are at risk of being
automated over the next 20 years. The speed and ease of gene editing raises the
possibility of biohackers wreaking havoc and the rise of social media has
coincided with a disturbing rise of authoritarianism around the globe.

Yet I suspect these fears are mostly misplaced. Instead of massive

unemployment, we find ourselves in a labor shortage. While it is true that the
biohacking is a real possibility, our increased ability to cure disease will most
probably greatly exceed the threat. The increased velocity of information also
allows good ideas to travel faster.

On the other hand, these technologies will undoubtedly unleash new

challenges that we are only beginning to understand. Artificial intelligence raises
disturbing questions about what it means to be human, just as the power of
genomics will force us to grapple with questions about the nature of the individual
and social media forces us to define the meaning of truth.

Revealing and Building

Clearly, Shelly and the Luddites were very different. While Shelley was
an aristocratic intellectual, the Luddites were working class weavers. Yet both
saw the rise of technology as the end to a way of life and, in that way, both were
right. Technology, if nothing else, forces us to adapt, often in ways we don't
expect.

In his 1954 essay, The Question Concerning Technology the German

philosopher Martin Heidegger sheds some light on these issues. He described
technology as akin to art, in that it reveals truths about the nature of the world,
brings them forth and puts them to some specific use. In the process, human
nature and its capacity for good and evil is also revealed.

He gives the example of a hydroelectric dam, which reveals the energy of

a river and puts it to use making electricity. In much the same sense, Mark
Zuckerberg did not "build" a social network at Facebook, but took natural human
tendencies and channeled them in a particular way. After all, we go online not for
bits or electrons, but to connect with each other.

Yet in another essay, Building Dwelling Thinking, he explains that

building also plays an important role, because to build for the world, we first must
understand what it means to live in it. The revealing power of technology forces
us to rethink old truths and reimagine new societal norms. That, more than
anything else, is where the challenges lie.

Learning to Ask the Hard Questions

We are now nearing the end of the digital age and entering a new era of
innovation which will likely be more impactful than anything we've seen since the
rise of electricity and internal combustion a century ago. This, in turn, will initiate
a new cycle of revealing and building that will be as challenging as anything
humanity has ever faced.

So while it is unlikely that we will ever face a robot uprising, artificial

intelligence does pose a number of troubling questions. Should safety systems in a
car prioritize the life of a passenger or a pedestrian? Who is accountable for the
decisions an automated system makes? We worry about who is teaching our
children, but scarcely stop to think about who is training our algorithms.

These are all questions that need answers within the next decade. Beyond
that, we will have further quandaries to unravel, such as what is the nature of
work and how do we value it? How should we deal with the rising inequality that
automation creates? Who should benefit from technological breakthroughs?

The unintentional consequences of technology have less to do with the

relationship between us and our inventions than it does between us and each
other. Every technological shift brings about a societal shift that reshapes values
and norms. Clearly, we are not helpless, but we are responsible. These are very
difficult questions and we need to start asking them. Only then can we begin the
cycle of revealing truths and building a better future

Reference: https://www.inc.com/greg-satell/when-innovation-goes-wrong-we-
shouldnt-blame-technology-but-ourselves.html

4. How is questioning the piety of thought?

In the mind of philosopher, Martin Heidegger, questioning was not

anything without thinking. Thus in his view, a questioner is not a dissenter; rather
they are listening. All questioning, he believed, gets started from initial listening,
that which precedes and guides the questioner. Following this
point, Heidegger delves into the spiritual, the pious, the holy. His thoughts
concerns the piety of thinking itself.

Bringing the mind of Heidegger into the realm of the beginner, James C.
Hart, along with some 25 others translate the philosopher's work from his native
German into English, or give knowledgeable commentary in their book, The Piety
of Thinking.

What, Heidegger pondered, does it mean to objectify?

He saw this social phenomenon in regarding living things as objects; objectifying
them for use, as a thing.

What does it mean to think?

In his view, thinking in some instances is not objectifying; it's instead an
expression of a being which wills itself to be. For example, if all thinking were
objective, then the creation of art would be meaningless because it derives from
personal thought which 'shows itself' in the work.
Thus it is non-objective. On the other hand, we, by this view, can accept that
thinking about the natural world and the sciences engages in objectivity.
Thinking is "whatever shows itself however it shows itself."
It is the opposite of hiding, concealment.

Heidegger also then concerns himself with the meaning of speaking. What does
it mean to speak? He asks all these deceptively simple questions and arrives at
some startling answers. In speaking Heidegger insists one might use words as a
tool to enforce the manipulation of others by words; one also may use words as
humans do to "open up the world for them, to make a dwelling place in the
world."

Finally another question Heidegger poses is that of thinking as a form of

speaking. "Is all thinking a form of speaking and is all speaking a form of
thinking? What does it mean to 'talk to yourself?" And he warns as early as the
1920s that scientific ways of thinking, objective speaking, threatens to overwhelm
all other imaging in the world today. There are in his mind different needs in
speaking and thinking, a piety of thinking for Heidegger is perhaps 'compliant to
the covering and uncovering of truth.'

Reference:

https://simplemindzen.blogspot.com/2011/09/questioning-piety-of-thinking.html

5. How does art provide a way out of enframing?

"The irresistability of ordering and the restraint of the saving power draw
past each other like the paths of two stars in the course of the heavens. . ."

The danger of technology's essence and the saving power inherent in it are
joined, Heidegger tells us, in the way stars are joined in a constellation: part of a
whole, but separate entities. Enclosed as we are within our enframing orientation
to the world, what can we do to save ourselves from the consequences of
enframing? How can we nurture an alternative way of looking at things that will
help us to change the ways of thinking that drive technology and thus to evade
some of the horrific dangers that inhere in technology?
 Against an orientation that investigates all aspects of the world and
assumes that the world can be grasped and controlled through measurement and
categorization, Heidegger upholds an alternative: art. He takes us back to a
moment in the history of the West before the onset of enframing, back again to
ancient Greece, where the concept of techne--which, as we have seen, is the
source of our word "technology"--included both instrumentality and the fine arts,
that is, poiesis. Heidegger imagines a classical Greece in which art was not a
separate function within society, but unifying force that brought together religious
life, political life, and social life. The art of ancient Greek culture, according to
Heidegger, expressed humanity's sense of connectedness with all Being. Art was a
kind of "piety;" it was the outgrowth of humanity's care--in the sense of
"stewardship"--of all existence.

In our own time, Heidegger suggests, the paradox of how "enframing" can
hold within it a saving power can be resolved by viewing the artistic or poetic
orientation to the world as the alternative dimension of "enframing." The poet
looks at the world in order to understand it, certainly, but this reflection does not
seek to make the world into a "standing-reserve." For Heidegger, the poet takes
the world "as it is," as it reveals itself--which, for Heidegger, is the world's "true"
form (remember that the Greek word for truth, aletheia, literally means
"revealing" or "unveiling").

"Truth" for Heidegger is a "revealing," the process of something "giving"

or "showing" itself. Art is the realm in which this "granting" of the world is
upheld. Art's relationship with the world is, in Heidegger's view, different from
technology's in that art is less concerned with measuring, classifying, and
exploiting the resources of the world than it is with "taking part" in the process of
coming-to-being and revealing that characterize the existence.

We should not interpret Heidegger to be suggesting that we all go out and

become artists, but rather that we incorporate more of the artist's and poet's vision
into our own view of the world. By doing so, we can guard against the dangers of
enframing, and enter into a "free"--constantly critical, constantly questioning--
relationship with the technology that is constantly making new incursions into our
lives.

Reference: http://www.english.hawaii.edu/criticalink/heidegger/guide9.html