I wanted to be an Amish boy in high school, making objects, being away from the classroom, and understanding who I was. But my high school life opened my eyes to possibilities that I never imagined when I was in elementary school. My world began to expand in those years because of these possibilities, and it still hasn't stopped. First and foremost among these ever-increasing possibilities is finding new ways to stretch yourself. "What Tech Wants" Kevin KellyWhen I read "What Technology Wants" for the second time, I felt that I might be suitable for the simple life of the Amish, maintaining a close relationship with the modern mainstream society, and guarding my own maverick, harmonious and different small world, which may also be a manifestation of the golden mean in classical China. Maybe somewhere in the world, someone is living the kind of life that suits me, and I can't even imagine what it looks like, let alone reach out and even enter this ideal life scene.
Imagination is always scarce, especially when reading this set of books, because the author's extremely abstract and conceptual ideas to construct a world of science and technology beyond imagination, so conservative readers such as me will inevitably find it difficult to understand and lack imagination, but this does not affect the cognitive innovation and thinking shock it brings. Each chapter is a door and window to rediscover the world, and it is the Amish chapter that impresses me, perhaps it is the concept of life that welcomes and rejects technology that fits my temperament and demand.
Excerpt from Kevin Kelly, "What Technology Wants".
In the late '60s and early '70s, tens of thousands of self-proclaimed hippie young people flocked to small farms and makeshift communes to live a simple life that was not much different from that of the Amish. I am a participant in this movement. Wendell Berry was one of the mentors we followed at the time. We experimented on a small scale in rural America, discarding modern technology (because it seemed to suppress individualism), digging wells by hand, grinding flour ourselves, breeding bees, building houses out of naturally dried mud, and even making windmills and hydroelectric generators that worked irregularly in an attempt to rebuild the New World. Some also seek comfort from religion. Our findings are similar to those of the Amish people: this simplicity works best in groups, not by completely discarding technology, but by simply being partially technological, and the most effective seems to be the low-tech scheme of what we call "appropriate technology". This way of life, which is tie-dye-style, deliberate, and consciously using appropriate techniques, has been deeply satisfying for some time.
However, only for a while. The Global Survey magazine, where I was editor, is a field manual for millions of simple technology trials. We flip through pages of information to learn how to build a chicken coop, grow vegetables, set cheese, educate future generations, and start working from home in a straw house. I've seen up close how initial enthusiasm for the limitations of technology inevitably turns into anxiety. Gradually, the hippies began to flee from their elaborate world of technological simplicity. One by one, they leave the igloo and return to the boring garage and attic, where to their astonishment, they transform their "small is beautiful" skills into a "start small" entrepreneurial spirit. The birth of Wired magazine and the long-haired programmer culture were the brainchild of the counterculture dropouts of the '70s. As Stuart Brand, the hippie founder of Global Overview, recalls, "'Do your own thing' easily translates to 'start your own business.'" I lost the transcripts of the speeches of hundreds of people with whom I had personal friends, who left the hippie commune and ended up founding high-tech companies in Silicon Valley. Now the stories of these people have become almost clichés – from barefoot men to billionaires, like Steve Jobs.
The early hippies did not maintain a lifestyle similar to that of the Amish because, while working in that community was satisfying and attractive, the call for choice was even more appealing. The hippies leave the farms for the same reason that young people keep leaving the countryside: technology-enabled opportunities beckon them day and night. Looking back, we might say that the hippies left for the same reason Thoreau left Walden, coming and going to experience life to the fullest. Voluntarily accepting a simple life is an opportunity, a choice, and everyone should experience such a life at least at some stage of life. I'm a strong proponent of selective poverty and minimalism as a great means of education, especially since it will help you pick and choose the technology that deserves to be prioritized. But I've also noticed that realizing the full potential of simple living requires people to see minimalism as one of many stages of life (and can even be recurring, like moments of contemplation and the Sabbath). Over the past 10 years, a new generation of ultra-minimalists has emerged. Today they live a self-help life in the city: living simply, receiving help from special groups set up by like-minded self-helpers. They tried to enjoy both the Amish satisfaction of mutual aid and manual labor, and the variety of options that were constantly emerging in the city.
Amish and ultra-minimalists offer important lessons on how to choose what should be accepted. Like them, I don't want to have too much equipment, it doesn't really add a side benefit, it just adds to the tedious routine maintenance. I'd rather be able to choose carefully what I need to take time to understand, and I want to be able to discard things that don't work. I don't want to limit other people's choices (e.g. lethal**) I do want a life with minimal technology because I already know that my time and energy are limited.
The Amish Transformers have helped me a lot because by touching their lives, I can now see very clearlyThe dilemma of the technological element: In order to maximize satisfaction, we strive to minimize technology in life. But in order to maximize the satisfaction of others, we must make the world's technology as diverse as possible. In fact, it's only when others create enough opportunities to choose from that we can find the least tools we need. The dilemma of technology is how individuals can minimize the number of items around them on the one hand, and on the other hand, strive to increase the variety and quantity of items on a global scale.
In the chapter on the Amish Modder's Experience, you can see the past, present, and future, and see the lives of others, others, and beyond. The last century of American hippies flocking to small farms or temporary communes, and earlier Thoreau's seclusion on the shores of Walden, is similar to the counter-urbanization trend of China's young people returning to their hometowns to start businesses. Although the hippies later left the countryside and Thoreau left Walden, their stay is difficult to define by success or failure, as Kevin Kelly puts it in his book, "They come and go to experience life to the fullest."
Whether it ends up leaving the countryside and returning to the city, or living and working in the countryside, it is a precious life experience and a way to stretch yourself. Standing between the city and the countryside, can we still write our own life chapters without hesitation, regardless of success or failure?
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