Showing posts with label Philippians. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Philippians. Show all posts

Saturday, April 7, 2018

Technology and the Objectifying of People

I’ve been wondering about the role of technology in our everyday lives. I’ve heard a claim that a study suggested we naturally view others online (such as in social media platforms) as objects. Objects are there for us to be used, and when they don’t conform to the usage we require (or when they fail to meet our needs or wants in some other way), we become frustrated with them. That frustration is likely due to a lack of control over the object that we should have (or think we should have). So when the TV remote fails to work, or when our phone’s battery inexplicably starts draining toward zero in the middle of an activity, we get upset.

Sometimes that frustration translates to outward words and actions, such as throwing the remote down in disgust, yelling at the “stupid” phone, etc. But what does this have to do with social media and technology? With Facebook (or Twitter, especially), we are or can be isolated from any other humans while communicating online. This communication often occurs with little context beforehand, often allowing us to communicate both with loved ones as well as complete strangers. When we view people online as objects, we fail to view them as human beings. That may sound simplistic, but it’s worth ruminating on.

Perhaps the best analogue may be video games. I grew up with the Super Nintendo, and played a little of xbox (the original, kids!) in college. Whenever you played by yourself (or maybe with someone else who was in the same room), you would play against the “computer,” or, as we say now, the “AI.” The AI could be easy to defeat. In these cases, you don’t mind much the AI, because it poses virtually no real challenge; it presents an obstacle to your success almost in name only. Consider the very first walking mushroom bad-guy thingy on Super Mario Bros. for Nintendo. You only die off there if you’ve never played before, there’s a malfunction, or you got way too cocky to pay attention at all. Even though the AI is an object (or objects), you don’t mind—you may even be pleased—because it’s pretty much doing what you want it to do.

But the AI, especially in today’s gaming world, can often be maddeningly difficult to overcome. In these cases, it’s a very different story—one that often involves some colorful language, and perhaps the violent throwing of an unsuspecting fellow object. The more the object fails to perform in the way we would like or expect—the more we are prevented from achieving our goal or goals—the more frustrated, and abusive, we become.

So it is with our fellow humans on Facebook, Twitter, etc. Perhaps our goal is to convince someone of our political position, or just to express approval for the “best” kind of dog. But then these goals are not always realized, because someone disagreed, or someone wasn’t even talking to you but posted something we thought was clearly wrong. We may be viewing people on the Internet as AI. Inasmuch as the AI online are doing what we want, we approve. When the AI does not or impedes us in some way, we become frustrated, and unleash all the abuse and vitriol that goes along with it.

“Now wait a minute,” you might say. “I don’t do that!” And perhaps you do not. Not everyone does. But nearly always this person is intentional about it, or has cultivated the kind of character that shows kindness to people, as creations made in the image of God. Our default, without this cultivation and intentionality, is to treat people online as AI. And this is not necessarily limited to strangers. To the degree we are prevented from realizing our goals we are also frustrated by the AI. So in a situation where we care greatly about the outcome (say a political or theological debate), even our loved ones may suffer online in a way they may not were we to discuss it in person.

Why is this? We were created to be in community. This community is naturally intended to be face-to-face. This can be replicated to some degree online, with Skype and phone conversations (not so much for text). But it is very difficult to do much with e-mail, text, Facebook, etc. To be sure, there are exceptions, but even these seem to have such relationships increase greatly with more “traditional” forms of contact. When we lack this face-to-face community, we suffer social consequences of isolation. This affects us as people. Even if we have a robust social life outside of online interactions, the people we lack real community with are closer to the AI: they are meeting some need or goal (entertaining us, paying us compliments, etc.) or failing to do so (opposing us intellectually, communicating things or in ways we do not approve of, etc.).

Perhaps the most frustrating thing about AI is that if they oppose you, you cannot control them. You can only overcome or destroy them. So it is online. With people, you cannot make them change their views or their behavior. So you can only overcome them (e.g., overwhelm them with your arguments, unfriend them, etc.) or destroy them (e.g., berate them until they go away). And the best part? In this scenario, the AI also treats you like you’re AI. So good news.

What do we do? I propose we recognize the Christian doctrine that teaches all humans are made in the image of God. Second, we seek to serve people online, rather than have them serve us (Philippians 2:4). Third, we should be involved in our real-world communities and spheres of influence. I have been guilty of viewing people as objects in the past, and perhaps together, in communities both online and in the real world, we will grow.

Monday, March 27, 2017

Being a Servant of Others

We normally read my son a bedtime story or two, to help get him in a bedtime routine and wind him down a little. He’s far too young to understand what’s going on, but we’re sure to read a Bible story from his children’s Bible storybook each night. Tonight’s story came from John 13, when the Last Supper was taking place. Jesus washed all of the disciples’ feet in an act of sheer humility. This he did as an example. In fact, Jesus specifically instructed them to serve each other (vs. 14-17). This has much broader application than foot-washing. It got me thinking: what are we currently doing to serve others?

I don’t mean to suggest that one ought to simply busy themselves and hope that they work sufficiently to satisfy this command of Christ. Instead I mean to inquire as to whether or not I have a servant’s heart. When we hear of a need, what is our reaction? Do I hope that someone else will do it, so I don’t have to? I have to say, that is a very natural reaction for me. Sometimes acts of service, in whatever form they may take, can help to reform our hearts. Sometimes it’s prayer, or reading Scripture. It may be some combination of all of these things. But I suspect it begins with repentance.


This repentance may entail a need for us to ask God to place the mind of Christ in us. Just as in Philippians 2, this mind entails a humble attitude. Isn’t that interesting? You don’t—even can’t—have a proper servant’s heart if you don’t have a proper attitude of humility. What are some ways we can serve our brothers and sisters that might not be so obvious? I’d like to hear from you in the comments section!

Monday, March 20, 2017

What God Brings to Mind

I’m trying to write something small each day, six days a week (I’ll take Sunday off). Or at least, this will be the attempt. I don’t know how long it will last, but many sources say it does some good to write something each day, even if it’s not research related or even particularly academic (I’m currently working on my PhD, as most of those who know me know by now!). I was reading Philippians today, and I was struck by two verses in particular (out of many!):

1:3 “I thank my God upon every remembrance of you,” (KJV)

and

3:15 “Let us therefore, as many as be perfect, be thus minded: and if in any thing ye be otherwise minded, God shall reveal even this unto you.”

This past Sunday night, our church gathered for our prayer and worship night. It involved singing a few good songs, and equally, if not more strongly, emphasized was our prayer portion of the night. There were seven stations, and you could move to any station you wish and pray for the requests or topics there (missionaries, peoples of the world, the church, confession of sins, thanksgiving to God, etc.). It was a good time of focused, personal prayer (and yet we were all together). I prayed for our staff, our missionaries, people in limited-access countries, and praised God.

Yet the one thing I realized I did not do is pray for my wife and child. My own family. It was only today, in reading Philippians, that God revealed something else to me[1]: I don’t pray for my family. Oh, if one of them is sick, I will. But I don’t pray for my wife’s spiritual growth, or my son’s salvation, etc. At least not much at all. And yet there I was, praying for some people who were perfect strangers. Indeed, I should have prayed for those strangers—and I’m glad I did! But tonight I made a specific point to pray for them, and repented of that lack of prayer.

So what is it that God is bringing to your mind right now? Don’t look for excuses or dismiss it out of hand. What does he want you to change, in your thinking? It’s not about doing the kinds of things that you think ought to be done. Instead, it’s about being the kind of person that Christ would have you to be.



[1] The context of this passage is that we are to have the mindset that we have not already arrived, but we still have room to grow. If we have attitudes, then, that suggest otherwise, or areas that need improving, God will bring that to our minds.