Anders' Critique of Technology

A student of Martin Heidegger and spouse of Hannah Arendt, Anders had a pessimistic view shaped by the Frankfurt School's critiques of liberalism and Marxist skepticism towards consumerism. His observations about advertising are particularly striking:

> "The proletarization of labor coincided with the creation of subpar products designed for rapid obsolescence. These items were meant to be consumed quickly, perpetuating a relentless cycle of production and destruction fueled by advertising's 'death drive.' Society has morphed into a 'ghost,' rendered unreal by an excess of counterfeit goods and fabricated realities that invade our personal lives..."

Reflecting on the spectral images presented in media, Anders asserts, “Nothing estranges us from ourselves or the world more profoundly than our incessant engagement with these illusory companions, these ghostly entities we invite into our homes.”

Further elaborating, a scholar notes:

> "Anders sought to dissect the 'new variety of shame' imposed upon humanity for being born rather than crafted. Our design is unrefined and chaotic, while technology's products are flawless and meticulously conceived, creating an impossible standard for humans. The progress of modern technology has led to our passive submission to machines, making our natural abilities to think, feel, or act appear redundant, as we strive to align completely with these creations."

Ultimately, Anders concludes that our increasing perfection of technology results in greater alienation from our creations, as we remain imperfect beings due to the unpredictable evolution of our biological forms.

Technology and Alienation

However, there is a more fundamental connection between technology and alienation that seems overlooked. Rather than feeling disconnected from ourselves in relation to technology, we often see our devices as extensions of our identities. Our reliance on cars, smartphones, and gadgets has become so ingrained that we hardly think about them anymore. Instead of being preoccupied with whether to engage with these technologies, we find ourselves using them without conscious thought. Their functions become secondary to us; we simply push a button, and they operate automatically.

In a high-tech, post-industrial society, this behavior manifests as a kind of thoughtlessness rather than a pervasive sense of inferiority. We assume that these machines enhance our human capabilities, positioning us as superior rather than inferior. In this sense, users become cyborgs.

Nevertheless, it would be simplistic to claim there is no alienation at all in this context. Anders appears to have misidentified the source of our disconnection. We aren't alienated from ourselves as emerging cyborgs; rather, technology disconnects us from nature and all that is nonhuman. Every innovation or artificial enhancement stems from a dissatisfaction with what nature provides, reflecting a promethean ambition to supplant the natural with the synthetic.

Technology in the Garden of Eden Myth

Consider the biblical Garden of Eden narrative. Initially, "Adam and his wife were both naked, and they felt no shame." However, the Fall, instigated by the temptation of secular knowledge, introduces our first technological act—upon consuming the forbidden fruit, "the eyes of both of them were opened, and they realized they were naked; so they sewed fig leaves together and made coverings for themselves."

At first glance, this story suggests a sense of shame about our nakedness, indicating a belief that clothed forms are superior. Yet the deeper implication is that technology alienates us from our previous acceptance of being unknowing, naked beings in nature. The myth illustrates our estrangement from Eden and the unaltered beauty of Creation, which existed before human intervention.

This tale can be interpreted as a critique of divine hypocrisy. God created both the forbidden fruit and the serpent to test humanity. With a blatant double standard, God employed techniques in the act of creation, as Genesis reveals: "The Lord God formed a man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life."

The serpent's assertion that "God knows that when you eat from it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil" proves true; after consuming the fruit, their eyes were indeed opened. Post-Fall, God declares, "The man has now become like one of us, knowing good and evil," leading to Adam's banishment from Eden to toil the land from which he originated.

This narrative subtly critiques humanity's relationship with technology, suggesting that its use isn't inherently negative but rather reflects a power dynamic. God's "technology" is vastly superior to ours, making our efforts to challenge the natural order misguided.

The "Satanic" Path of Humanistic Progress

This notion of technology rendering us godlike points to a promethean drive. Our intelligence elevates us beyond animalistic simplicity, compelling us to challenge natural processes that, while not divinely ordained, are often amoral and absurd. Our knowledge prompts us to pursue idealized visions, striving to refine nature and humanize it. We oscillate between an untouched wilderness and an artificial, self-aware environment.

Each technological advancement is implicitly anti-natural, suggesting our alienation from the wilderness. Medical innovations, for instance, reveal our dissatisfaction with illness and the aging process. We resist allowing nature to take its course, harboring a belief that we can do better than nature. This humanistic conviction fuels technological progress, driven by the notion that nature is ignorant, and only we possess the understanding to improve it.

While many species utilize tools, we uniquely obsess over technology. Our battle against the wilderness and our ancestral habitats raises the question of why we feel ashamed of our natural forms.

A compelling answer may lie in the curse of knowledge itself. Awareness of nature's uncreated essence breeds an anxiety about mortality and a sense of insignificance within the grand cosmic scheme. The trajectory of promethean alienation appears tragic, yet there seems to be no noble alternative.

We may choose to numb ourselves or submit to dogmatic beliefs or marketing influences. However, our actions reveal our true nature: as we mock genuine back-to-nature advocates, we enthusiastically embrace technological enhancements, making us all modern-day Prometheans.

In a provocative light, we can be seen as "satanic" humanists—not adherents of traditional religions but rather devotees of technological advancement. With every human-made device we engage with, we assert our perceived superiority over nature and its original capacities.