By Jim Nichols

Are you a Luddite? I suspect I am, at least in some ways. I also suspect that you are too. Perhaps being a Luddite is not necessarily bad.

Generally meant to describe a person opposed to modern technology or ways of working, the term dates to the nineteenth century; it has a derogatory feel. Apparently, there was a real person named Ludd or Ludham (later fictionalized to the name Ned Ludd) who was the primary instigator. A superior criticized him for his poor knitting on a garment in the factory and Ludd used a hammer to destroy the frame he was using. “Too new-fangled,” we might say with a negative hint. Ludd gained a following and, in Robin hood fashion, the Luddites physically destroyed manufacturing frames with apparent swagger.

In that case, innovative technology for preparing textiles for clothing was the target. In truth, the original Luddites claimed that their complaint was not so much about the technology, but that its use threatened the standard labor practices. 

Regardless, the term “Luddite” entered the lexicon as a generally negative term, a term associated with protectionism. “Let’s keep things the way they are and have always been” (without, of course, identifying what time should be established as the standard).

I am wondering, however, if the Luddite term is truly a declaration of ineptitude or rather a badge of honor. I am also wondering if there might be different levels of Luddite—personal and individual Luddites as contrasted to more general, societal Luddites.

There are several things at play here. One is that it seems the human brain is attracted to novelty and the unexpected but, at the same time, is often resistant to change that seems personal. That would certainly be true for me.

A second is that innovation is usually promoted as simplifying our lives and giving us more information on which to make decisions. Saying that, however, does not necessarily make it correct or true. 

When you buy a newer car today, you are confronted with a bewildering array of dashboard lights and options. Some seem amazing and helpful; others seem parallel to entering an internet rabbit hole. 

Trying to send a cash gift or payment to someone? Which payment application will you use on your phone? Zelle? PayPal? Venmo? Google Pay? Apple Pay? One of the other twenty or so? Each application, of course, has already asked for your bank account number as you enrolled. Is it so hard and dangerous to write a check and mail it?

The college class had an extended discussion criticizing the increase of technology in their lives and how they would often want to break out of it. Ironically, before beginning to share ideas, the students all had to remove their earbuds. (An academic friend described those as “those white things sticking out of the sides of your head”).

Is today’s neo-Luddite just a technophobe? Is that what I am?

We can and do, of course, adjust to these changes. However, it seems legitimate to consistently ask whether they are all absolutely necessary. We can live well with technology, but it is important to question continually the ways it shapes our lives. Specifically, does it draw us closer to God? Does it make us better peacemakers? Does it make us less angry and judgmental? Does God care one way or another about it? Should we?

Perhaps we should note that the problem may not be technology but is, in fact, the rapid pace of life. All we need to do is reach in our pocket or purse and the world of information and temptation is, literally, at our fingertips. Even in innocent concerns, we seem to be forced to make quick decisions rather than considered ones.

Let us remember that Jesus was frequently (from our point of view) vague in explaining much detail to his disciples. Occasionally he was specific, but often his description was wrapped in parable and hyperbole. The things he asked them (and us) to do were often slow-moving such as to listen, to pray, to love, to weigh, to watch, and to serve. We are often faced with puzzles to which Google does not give clear answers. Our faith in God’s care must step in then. 

Jim Nichols is a retired Abilene Christian University biology professor and current hospital chaplain