Life With The Machine

This is a long blog; my apologies. I realize that the average attention span for a blog is about 1200 words. This exceeds it, but I condensed it as much as I could.

Recently I read two unrelated items that caused me to think of the same thing. The first I read a number of weeks back at Pyromaniac:

I have to say with all candor that I can somewhat understand the feelings expressed by some of Calvinism's recent critics. Sniff around some of the Calvinist forums on the Internet and it won't be long before you begin to think something is rotten in Geneva.

But I hasten to add that I don't think the problem really lies in Geneva, or in historic Calvinism, or in any of the classic Reformed creeds. I especially don't think the stench arises from any problem with Calvinism per se. In my judgment, the problem is a fairly recent down n' dirty version of callow Calvinism that has flourished chiefly on the Internet and has been made possible only by the new media.

This comes from a post he entitled “Quick and Dirty Calvinism.” I must admit the term “Internet Calvinist” got my attention. He said it in the same way one would say “Romantic Poet” or “Victorian Novelist.” I guess I had come to think of Calvinists being segregated by geographical location, like a Canadian Calvinist or a British Calvinist, not based on the medium through which they speak. However, what I thought most profound about his comment was the last portion: “has flourished chiefly on the Internet and has been made possible only by the new media.”

After I read Michael Horton’s “Settlers, Pilgrims, and Wanderers” I thought of what Phil had written in “Quick and Dirty Calvinism.” In Horton’s article, from the July/August issue of Modern Reformation, he discusses the Emergent Church. The beginning of the article says this:

First and foremost, Emergent identifies with postmodernism, although its celebration of postmodernism is often as sweeping as its critique of modernity. In many respects, Emergent reflects these most-modern rather than postmodern tendencies. In fact, to gain any real insight into the emergent movement (as about any other in our day) one has to visit its websites. There, one enters a world in which theology and church practice are decided largely by democratic conversation, like a 24-hour live streaming Oprah show.

Here again is another group that has flourished through the internet. Internet Calvinists and Emergents are benefiting from the media for our benefit or our detriment, depending upon which side you sit. I know that the internet has had a huge impact on culture. I think historians of the future will write books about the impact of the internet the same way historians have discussed the impact of television. The whole potential of good and bad consequences arising from the internet became very real to me. Perhaps it’s because my internet usage has increased exponentially with blogging. A year ago, I may have used the internet for a short visit daily to visit the Well-Trained Mind and check e-mail. Now, I am on line much more.

Both of these pieces I read caused me to remember a very haunting story I read in my last year of high school. It was “The Machine Stops” by E.M. Forster (1879-1970). Forster is much more known for his Passage to India, A Room With a View, and one of my all-time favourite intellectual chick movies, Howard’s End. I have never forgotten about this story; I found the anthology from which it comes conveniently on our bookshelves.

The story is set in the future and revolves around a woman named Vashti. She lives in a city beneath the surface of the earth. In fact, people are discouraged to go to the surface of the earth because the air supposedly kills those who venture to it. Underneath the earth is a city of long, dark tube-like passageways and dark hexagonal-shaped rooms; this world is sustained by The Machine. Vashti lives in a room where she has access to innumerable buttons by which she can call darkness for sleep, daylight for waking hours, food and drink for sustenance, and other people for conversation. However, she does not leave her room or have contact with others if she can avoid it. Touching is simply not done any longer. To talk to her son, Kuno, who lives underground in the Northern Hemisphere (she lives in Southern Hemisphere), all she needs to do is call out to him and The Machine will cause his face to appear in a blue plate. Her son was raised by a Public Nursery and she has not seen him much, nor does she mind. She spends her time talking to whomever The Machine conjures for her, and giving lectures such as “Music in the Australian Period.” She very reluctantly leaves her room to see her son who wants to talk to her “without The Machine.” Kuno is becoming disenchanted with The Machine and accuses his mother of worshipping it. While she flies on a plane to see her son, Vashti has the opportunity to view things such as The Himalays and the Caucasus, but she asks the flight attendant to close the blind because there are “no ideas here.” Ideas are very important, but only certain ideas. While visiting Kuno, Vashti discovers that he has been going to the surface without permission. She is angry with him and leaves.

As time goes on, The Machine begins to suffer various malfunctions such as not playing music correctly, but The Mending Apparatus fixes things. However, the malfunctions continue to increase, and the people put up with it because they have come to worship The Machine. Each person in his own way worships The Machine by revering The Book of The Machine i.e. the instruction manual. During a public lecture, the people in the underground city are given a warning:

“Beware of first-hand ideas!” exclaimed one of the most advanced of them. “First-hand ideas do not really exist. They are but the physical impressions produced by love and fear, and on this gross foundation who could erect a philosophy? Let your ideas be second-hand, and if possible tenth-hand, for then they will be far removed from the disturbing element – direct observation. Do not learn anything about this subject of mine – The French Revolution. Learn instead what I think that Enicharmon thought Urizen thought Gutch thought Ho-Yung thought Chi-Bo-Sing thought Lafcadio Hearn thought Carlyle thought Mirabeau said about the French Revolution… for in history one authority exists to counteract another.

I thought about this story and saw myself as Vashti sitting her room with The Machine, conjuring up conversation. Don’t get me wrong; I like having the internet. I love blogging. I love connecting with other people. But the parallels were too great not to notice. I am likely not the only one who is in this position. I think we can use the internet for information purposes, to direct us to good resources. I think we can connect with other people through blogs and e-mail, but I think we need to be careful not to fall into the habit of avoiding direct observation.

The fact that movements like the Emergent church flourishes unchecked because of the internet means that we, as Christians, must take care. We ought not to fall into the trap of relying upon tenth-hand ideas. There is nothing wrong with reading blogs and websites, but that is not an adequate substitute for reading Scripture, prayer and our own personal study. We can even do this with our computers off. Whatever happened to real books? I need to have an understanding of the Emergent movement based on more than what I read on the internet. I need to be well-grounded in Scripture. I need to ask the leaders in my life what they think; after all, they are in my life for a reason. I wonder if there are people who are embracing things simply because they read it on the internet. I may be revealing my cynical side, but when someone tells me they found out something from the internet, I generally greet it with a small amount of skepticism and then do my own research to find out.

On the personal side, there is a great deal of Christian fellowship on the internet; we must not forget the fellowship of live bodies. I know that I am one of the most guilty when it comes to investing time in online interaction. It’s so much easier fellowshipping with people on the internet. I can shut them off whenever I want. I don’t have to let them get too close; they won’t have to really know me. Yes, I’ve been fortunate enough to encourage others through my blog, and I have been utterly relieved to connect with other women who like similar things. I discovered, through blogging, that I am not as weird as I thought. But, I have to be careful to avoid living in a vacuum. There could be a lonely soul who needs my friendship, or there may be someone whom I need. Does this mean I’m giving up blogging? Not a chance! It does mean, though, that I will be much more active in building relationships with people up close and personal.

Do you want to know how the story ends? Well, the title should tell you. The machine does indeed stop, and the whole world is thrown into utter chaos. I’ll tell you another time when I thought of this story. It was two years ago during a very intense heat wave when much of the east was thrown into a prolonged blackout. No electricity; no internet. I’m not a doom and gloomer, nor am I a Luddite, but I will continue to check myself and make sure that I don’t depend too much on my machine.