Redemptive Technology

Honoring Genesis One and Two as an engineer

This article is part of the Claritas spring 2022 issue, Flourishing. Read the full print release here.

By Joe Dill

Does technological development contribute to the Christian notion of human flourishing on Earth?

My knee-jerk answer is, “I sure hope so!” I am currently a Ph.D. student in Applied Physics, pursuing a career as a professional researcher and engineer. But more importantly, I am a Christian; I believe that Jesus Christ is Lord. So I aim to live a life shaped by the story of the Christian scriptures, the story of God’s redemptive work on Earth.

This story begins with the creation narrative of Genesis 1, a seven-day account in which God turns a watery void into an environment where life can grow and thrive. In days one through three (verses 3-13), God creates ordered spaces from the void, separating night from day, sky from water, and forming dry land from the water. During days four through six (verses 14-27), God makes inhabitants for these spaces in parallel with days 1-3. [1] He puts lights in the sky to mark the passage of time, makes fish and birds that fill the waters and the skies, then animals and humans to inhabit the land. Finally, on day seven (Gen 2:1-3), God rests, taking up residence himself in his created world. So, we see that God creates the world (days one through) to be filled with life (days five through six) and that he can dwell with humans (day seven). 

To these ends, God commissions the animals and the humans to “be fruitful and multiply” and fill the space they inhabit (verse 22, 28). However, God gives humans a higher calling. He creates them in his “image” and “likeness” (verse 27). Humans are like God in a way that animals are not and are instructed to “subdue” the earth and “have dominion” over all the living things.

To be human is to be technologically minded. Our furless skin, flat teeth, and dull nails do not equip us to stay warm or catch food. We can only survive by rationally “subduing” nature—growing crops, hunting with tools, building houses for shelter, et cetera. But, according to Genesis 1, we were created this way by God, even before the Fall. Further, who we are reflects who God is. Just as God subdued the chaotic waters, forming an ordered world from them, we too can rationally subdue nature by creating tools and machines. 

But what should humanity aim to accomplish with our creative abilities and God-given “dominion” of the earth? The Genesis 2 creation account addresses this question. In this story, the earth begins as a barren desert where there is no rain and no man to work the ground. So, God causes a mist to rise from the land, watering the soil, and forms a man from the dust. God then plants a garden called Eden and causes trees to “spring up” out of the ground. He places the man in the garden “to work it and keep it” (verses 5-15).

This narrative differs significantly from our modern scientific understanding of human history, which asserts that the first life forms on earth emerged roughly 4.2 billion years ago, with humans evolving eons later, only 2 million years ago. [2] The earth, and many living creatures, existed long before humanity interfered, and some argue they were better off without us, given the way we pollute the oceans, distort the climate, threaten nuclear war, etc. Genesis 2, by contrast, presents humanity as essential to Earth, entrusted with the role of stewardship of all living things. God, so it seems, did not want to form life on the earth until he knew that humanity would be there to care for it. 

Now, I believe that both narratives can inspire stewardship. If humans are only emergent and not created, one can still argue, as physicist Brian Cox does, that because we appear to be the only sentient life in our galaxy, we should thus be motivated to preserve our planet, humanity, and the very existence of meaning. [3] Genesis 2, however, gives humanity no choice. We were created in part because God needed caretakers for his creation. 

And indeed, throughout the Biblical narrative, even after humanity’s tragic fall into sinfulness, human craft and industry remain a prominent means of preserving and restoring life on earth. For example, in Genesis 41, Joseph oversees warehouses to store grain for Egypt and its neighboring nations during seven years of drought. Although the land becomes so dry that no plants can grow (the pre-creation state of Genesis 2), life is preserved because there is a man who cares for the ground. This “care” is executed through a technological feat—constructing storage facilities and crunching numbers to ensure enough grain is stored for future years.

Another example can be found in Exodus 31. When the children of Israel are banished to the desert, God desires that they build a tabernacle where He can dwell among them. God’s spirit enters a man named Bezalel, filling him “…with ability and intelligence, … to devise artistic designs, to work in gold, silver, and bronze, in cutting stones for setting, and in carving wood, to work in every craft” (verses 3-5 ESV). God grants Bezalel, and other men of Israel, both knowledge of the natural world and an ability to create that parallels Genesis 1. In a barren, lifeless place, God’s spirit moves (through a human), facilitating the creation of a beautiful space where he can dwell with his people.

These stories illustrate that technology and biblical human flourishing are, in fact, compatible. In these and many Biblical stories, humans, directed by God, use their God-given ingenuity as agents of redemption, preserving and promoting flourishing life on earth amidst its fallen tendency towards a barren, lifeless state (exile, a desert, or a watery abyss). Today, in a world laden with food and water shortages, a changing climate, a global pandemic, and other forces that threaten life, the likeness of God can similarly be seen in the scientist and the engineer who attempt to bring nature under rational subjection. By formulating solutions to these problems, they strive to promote human flourishing across our world.

But the Bible also shows how technology can mar the world, most obviously so at the tower of Babel in Genesis 11. As the story opens, the humans have just developed a new technology: the brick. They then say, “let us build ourselves a city and a tower with its top in the heavens, and let us make a name for ourselves, lest we be dispersed over the face of the whole earth” (verse 4). While this venture appears creative and cooperative, it is problematic for many reasons. For one, by building their tower to “the heavens,” they seek to breach the gap between earth and heaven through their technology. They try to “make a name for themselves,” elevating their technological achievements as the object of their worship rather than God.

Additionally, this project would have stunted life. Diversity of life on earth emerges when species evolve and adapt to different environments. Because humans and animals are dispersed worldwide, we have today a beautiful plurality of ethnicities and cultures and an abundance of unique animal species. This may be why God instructed both humans and animals to “fill the earth” in Genesis 1 – that the full potential of life could be revealed. However, those at Babel had a different vision for life than God. They sought to build a big city so that they would not be dispersed across the earth, which would have stunted this diversification of humankind. Consequently, God frustrated their plans by confusing their speech, causing them to abandon their project and disperse over the face of the earth.

Because technological development is so central to what humans do, it serves as an expression of human values and desires, both virtuous and corrupted. The people’s endeavor to build “to the heavens” at Babel demonstrates their pride and the misalignment between their vision for life and God’s.

In The Culture of Technology, Arnold Pacey outlines three categories of values that enmesh any technological endeavor. [4] He calls the first category “virtuosity values,” which emphasize prowess, expertise, and the thrill of discovery. The second category is “economic values:” utility, production, profit, etc. The third category is “user values,” which prioritize care for people and nature. As William Stahl articulates in God and the Chip, user values “are more oriented towards appropriate use of technology than high-tech performance or continuous production and growth.” [5] 

Pacey’s “user values” category resonates most strongly with the Genesis 2 commitment to stewardship. However, the other two value types are also necessary for a successful technological project. Bezalel’s “virtuosity,” his God-given craftsmanship and skill in metallurgy, enabled him to construct a beautiful tabernacle. Likewise, Joseph’s level-headed economics enabled Egypt to handle its resources well and bless its neighboring nations during a drought. 

Hence, Pacey’s three value categories must be held in tension. The “tower to the heavens” at Babel pursued only virtuosic accomplishment, which came at the expense of diversified life on earth. Likewise, as Stahl articulates, “in the industrialized world today, virtuosity and economic values are far more powerful in most technology practice.” [6] He suggests that “user values” are the easiest to neglect because they provide the least tangible benefit to a technological industry. Whether or not this assessment is accurate, it should give the modern-day engineer sufficient pause to ask how we should approach technological projects while upholding a commitment to stewardship.

I believe that Ursula Franklin’s notion of “redemptive technology” provides an excellent basis for such discussions. Franklin was a German-Canadian professor of metallurgy at the University of Toronto and a pioneer in archaeometry, which applies modern materials analysis methods to archeology. [7] The daughter of a Jewish mother, she was sent to a forced labor camp during World War II. She later became a devout adherent to Quakerism and an outspoken pacifist and feminist.

In her 1989 Massey lecture, The Real World of Technology, writing from a lifetime of first-hand experience with the complexities of technology, Franklin posits a checklist of criteria for all technological projects. She writes,

“Should one not ask of any public project or loan whether it: (1) promotes justice; (2) restores reciprocity; (3) confers divisible or indivisible benefits; (4) favors people over machines; (5) whether its strategy maximizes gain or minimizes disaster; (6) whether conservation is favored over waste; and (7) whether the reversible is favored over the irreversible?” [8]

The emerging “right to repair” movement provides an illustrative example of Franklin’s vision. This movement is a reaction against manufacturers that have made their products (sometimes intentionally) impossible for independent repair technicians to fix, leaving consumers with no option but to buy new. For example, some laptop manufacturers use proprietary screws or solder-down batteries and circuit boards, making repairing or upgrading their products unnecessarily complicated. [9] The Repair Association advocates for “a competitive repair market, as well as improvements to the quality and longevity of products.” [10] 

Making products easier to repair definitionally makes damage “reversible” (condition 7) and reduces waste (condition 6) since products can be fixed and used again rather than thrown out and replaced. Concerning condition 3, making irreparable products is profitable for an industry’s managers and shareholders (a “divisible benefit,” i.e., shared only by a few), but dumps excess waste into landfills (an “indivisible cost,” shared by all). Discussing condition 1, Stahl argues that “a Biblical standard of justice, in the context of modern information technology, would mean giving priority to the users” as those with less power in the manufacturer-customer relationship. [11]

Franklin’s “redemptive technology,” as discussed here, may sound utopian. It is probably unreasonable to expect that any technological pursuit would satisfy her seven criteria entirely. However, they put our technological endeavors in proper tension with our shared commitments to stewardship and provide a solid basis for conversation. Our creative capacities and technological mindedness are entrusted to us by the God who created us and are core to who he has made us to be. He calls us to act as stewards of his creation and partner with Him as agents of restoration. Will we be Babel or Bezalel?

This article appeared in Claritas’ Spring 2022 Flourishing Issue.

SOURCES

[1] The Bible Project, “Genesis 1,” premiered November 4, 2020, YouTube video, www.youtube.com/watch?v=afVN-7vY0KA. 

[2]  “Timeline of Human Evolution,” Wikipedia, accessed April 30, 2022, en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Timeline_of_human_evolution.

[3] Tara Conlan, “Earth’s Demise Could Rid Galaxy of Meaning,” Guardian, October 19, 2021, www.theguardian.com/science/2021/oct/19/earths-demise-could-rid-galaxy-of-meaning-warns-brian-cox-ahead-of-cop26. 

[4] Arnold Pacey, The Culture of Technology (Cambridge, Mass: MIT Press, 1983).

[5] William A. Stahl, God and the Chip: Religion and the Culture of Technology (Ontario: Wilfrid Laurier University Press, 1999), 17.

[6] Stahl, God and the Chip, 18.

[7] “Ursula Franklin,” Wikipedia, accessed April 30, 2022, en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ursula_Franklin. 

[8]  Ursula Franklin, The Real World of Technology (Montreal: CBC Enterprises, 1990), 126.

[9]  “Laptop Repairability Scores,” iFixIt, accessed April 30, 2022, www.ifixit.com/laptop-repairability.

[10] “Learn About the Right to Repair,” The Repair Association, accessed April 30, 2022, www.repair.org/stand-up.

[11] Stahl, God and the Chip, 161.