I take calls on a flip phone. My stereo plays records through vacuum tubes. I cook on cast iron. My deer rifle is a lever action 30-30 with iron sights. I cut wood with an axe and move dirt with a shovel and wheelbarrow. My favorite woodworking tool is a draw knife, closely followed by a chisel.
I’m not a total luddite. You’re reading my blog. But you can see the trend here.
What’s up with my fascination with old technology?
The bare truth is that I just like it. As my son likes to say when pressed to justify his behavior, “That’s why– because I like to!” There really is no requirement to justify what you like. If you are looking for permission to bask in your enjoyment of things that don’t make sense to other people, here it is.
For the most part, we like what we like first, and explain it later. It’s so easy to get lost in post-hoc rationalization and ignore this. The phrase “there’s no accounting for taste” is apropos– we tend to think about technology in accounting terms, to look only at that which can be counted and measured. How much does it cost? How long does it take? How many horsepower, or watts, or gigabytes. Gallons per minute, miles per gallon. And so on. These aspects are readily compared and optimized, sometimes to the exclusion of all else.
But the taste side of the equation can’t be captured by the numbers. How is our subjective experience with any given technology? Does it feel good to use? How does it smell? Does it make a pleasing sound? Do I understand it well enough to repair it when it breaks? Can I modify it to suit the task at hand, or to fit my body better? Is it powered by my body, such that it might help develop or maintain my strength and endurance? Does its use foster the development of useful skills and good judgement, or do I just press the button and stand back? Does it force me to become a more thoughtful and competent human being?
Take the chain saw versus the axe for example. I have both, and if I had to move a bunch of wood in a hurry, the chain saw would be the clear winner. But do I have the right oil/gas mix? Does it need a tune-up? Do I even know how to sharpen the chain, or do I just buy a new one?
Ninety-nine out of a hundred times, I’m picking up the axe. It’s a beautiful tool, elegant even. Sharpening is simple and meditative. There’s a reason that sharpening your axe is a potent metaphor. Take time to prepare the tool, take time to prepare your mind. Work is a pleasure when both are ready. Cutting with the axe is not very fast, but what’s the hurry? I’m out in the woods getting some exercise. No need for hearing protection, I can listen to the birds. The smell of the cedar chips is refreshing, and when I’m done I don’t smell like exhaust.
I admit, I am advocating for my choice a little. I like my choice. It fits who I am and what matters to me. I want to be this pleased by all of my technological choices. The point is not that my choice is right. The point is that these choices could hinge on the subjective personal experience of technology. Your subjective personal experience. The choice is yours, how are you choosing?