The Tech-Free challenge is essentially this: a person vows to not use a certain range of technology. What this range includes is the choice of the person doing the challenge – it might entail anything with a semiconductor in it, or it could mean all electrical devices. There are endless options, and some are more sweeping than others.
It is the most disciplined sort of abstinence, the kind that happens anonymously and privately with no authority figure to offer encouragement or reprimands. Just as the heroin addict will wrestle with himself, confused and discouraged, so too is the Tech-Free challenge the sort of struggle that is not physical, but mental, the kind that is seemingly effortless but actually difficult. It is as if a friend asks you to keep your hand raised vertically in the air for an hour: it is quite possible to do, but without motivation, it is a meaningless task that soon leads to nihilism, then failure.
There are, it is said, levels of hell. Although the Tech-Free challenge does not quite deserve acquaintance with purgatory, it does nonetheless share the feature of distinct realms of intensity – or, at least, the version that I was assigned to do for my English class at Four Rivers Charter Public School does. Of the six levels offered, the first appears quite tame: simply live as if it were 1995. Therefore, renounce the Internet, cell phones, MP3 players, and console games. However, this is only one value of a bell-curve; ahead lie another five austerities, each transcending the one before, reaching ever higher until the year 1850. At this point, electricity is banned; so are cars, telephones, and restaurants. Practicality, too, has been blacklisted.
Between the two extremes that are 1995 and 1850 lie more moderate attempts at a less technological 24 hours. I will choose level 4, or 1950, which means that I am allowed no computers, portable electronic devises, compact disks, cassettes, console games, television, microwaves, fast food or takeout. From this experience I hope to learn the value of what I have, instead of constantly accepting it as a given, in addition to a sense of healthy technological minimalism.
On Saturday, October 18, my ordeal began. After waking up I attempted to make hot chocolate, only to realize that doing so required the use of a microwave. Somewhat saddened, I put my unfinished drink into the fridge and forgot about it. Soon afterwards I encountered a test of my faith. To give the reader some context, today was part of my precious little time to apply Early Decision to a college, and this meant last-minute visits to remote institutes of learning. Of course, such visits require directions to follow, and the most useful travel resources are online. On the face of it there was nothing I could do, but I exploited a loophole by defining “use” of a computer as touching the keys, and then asking a parent to the typing.
My father thought what I was doing was unreasonable. In effect, he said that at this time of the year nobody could expect me to avoid technology simply to see what how it feels – there are too many things that require the use of a computer. This, of course, highlights a major theme: a typical person simply cannot afford to renounce technology! As more and more components of our social endeavors become entwined with semiconductors and engines, we will find it harder and harder to live without keeping up with the latest inventions. Dictionaries, atlases, and even books are moving into cyberspace, and it is questionable whether printed versions of these resources will be available indefinitely.
What followed were a few hours of profound boredom. My stereo, console, and computer began to look extremely tempting. Although I considered wandering into the woods and spending a quiet day there, that felt to me like cheating, avoiding the reality that faced me by escaping. Moreover, an ordinary day for me takes place around my small village and in my home – not among the trees. I felt that I could be productive if only I could use my calculator and laptop, but they were off limits.
One thought I had while doing the Tech-Free challenge was that a moderate level is not particularly fulfilling, only annoying. To make the most of the opportunity, one must go all in, heading to the level six, the far end of the spectrum. At that point, my refrigerator would not be allowed, since it uses electricity – and at level six, electricity isn’t acceptable. I chose to do the challenge over a weekend, and typically I spend my time playing video games and doing work on and off. Well, I couldn’t do video games, and my work is all computerized. So I was left with nothing to do except read books and meditate. Perhaps foolishly, I neglected the latter.
Finally, I declared myself finished. The 24 hours were up. Reflecting on the Tech-Free challenge, I find myself with the following conclusion: it is not wise to reject technology within the current historical context, in which technology is essential to an ordinary life. Denouncing the context itself is better, but unless everybody makes a complete effort to reject our commitment to the perpetual advancements generated by science and business, individual abstinence will do no good.
I predict that, eventually, we will advance to a point where no work, of any kind, is required from anyone. If this happens, one of four things will occur: we will live peacefully, if dully, until the sun stops shining; we will stop evolving technologically and start to evolve spiritually; we will try to colonize the rest of the universe; or we will fight and find ourselves back to square one, or even square zero. Hopefully it will be the second or third option.
