Kenneth Burke is prophetic in his critique of technology, foreseeing the dominance and prominence of technology in our culture long before the modern personal computer was even a twinkle in Steve Jobs’ eye. Burke gives three suggestions to help us deal with the all-powerful force of the cutting edge: first, live with the vices and learn from the virtues; second, establish a habit of thoughtful reflective deliberation; third, embrace inefficiency.
Burke’s critique of the obsession with technological vices is tempered by his argument that “society is sound only if it can prosper on its vices, since virtues are by very definition rare and exceptional” (114). In learning to live with the tech-vice majority we should listen to the rare and exceptional users of technology, the ones who have maximized the virtues of our technology. We should keep our eyes out for uses of technology that stimulate discussion, build communities, and establish meaningful relationships. Such endeavors merit more attention than those that create echo chambers, promote narcissism, or craft illusions of real interactions.
Burke suggests that thoughtful deliberation can be a powerful tool in controlling the vice of technology, a tool that has proven efficient at harnessing another potentially devastating force: government. Part of the reason our government works so well is because it doesn’t—it often takes months of bureaucratic squabbling for a president to do something as simple as declare war, a fact kings of the past would laugh at for its absurdity. Yet, it’s that same squabbling and longwinded debate that keeps the democracy in line, Kenneth Burke argues. Democracy is a successful blend of “organized distrust, ‘protest made easy,’ a babble of discordant voices, a colossal getting in one’s own way” (114). This engaged and somewhat inefficient discourse keeps our elected leadership on track and working. Like government, technology requires a constant reflective voice to control and guide it. Only through constant reflection and debate can vices as potentially ruinous as government or technology be harnessed for the good of society. Only as we consciously employ an “organized distrust” of technology will it ever be as productive as Burke’s vision of American democracy.
So what principles should guide the babble of discordant voices that would harness the power of technology? Burke suggests that inefficiency should be one such guiding principle, that the opposite is little more than an end-unto-itself: “efficiency breeds but the necessity of more efficiency” (120). Burke worries that when we focus our efforts on making life easier we inevitably create more problems that then require new inventions to make life easier. Each technology creates problems that future technologies will need to “fix,” bringing with them more problems. Eventually, this spiral results in a very complex, highly sensitive web of fixes and counter-fixes (120). As we analyze our technology, then, we must remember that inefficiency is sometimes needed to “prevent the machine from becoming too imperious and forcing us into social complexities which require exceptional delicacy of adjustment” (120-21).
In technology as in government, our chance to harness the power of our vices rests on the shoulders of individuals. We must take initiative and act on Burke’s suggestions in order to keep the vices from overrunning the virtues. Such actions could seem counterproductive, but really they shift the focus from the efficient and the easy to the pragmatic and the possible. Such a shift is based on the powerful underlying notion that “the criterion of ‘usefulness’ has enjoyed much more prestige than its underlying logic merited” (90). A paradigm shift of this magnitude, in Burke’s eyes, might actually succeed in channeling the rushing tide of progress.
All quotes taken from Burke’s Counter-statement.
