W

hy do the days seem longer and more restful up here on Lee Ridge in the central Black Hills? Well, for one thing, they are longer—the sun rising at 5:00 a.m. and setting at 9:00 p.m. For another, they are not crowded with our normal schedule of meetings and deadlines. We take a break from the “addiction” to technology: no television, no newspapers or movies, and Internet access only every 2-3 days instead of every 2-3 minutes. We leave our cell phones in the cabin while we have our quiet time with coffee under the pines, or hike in the national forest for an hour. We allow ourselves to “be” with less to “do;” we share thoughts and prayers about the important matters in life so often crowded out by the urgent issues of daily logistics.

For us, this is a refreshing return to the unregulated, unplanned summer days of our youth. For many in the younger generation, sadly, this simpler life is something unknown and unfamiliar. The addictions of late modernity now include instant communication with friends and total access to information through a mobile phone always at your side and never out of mind. For a witty Atlantic commentary on the “dumbing down” of life and society due to the brain overload from trying to do everything at once, read “The Autumn of the Multitaskers." The author cites a guesstimate by a business analyst that $650 billion is the annual economic loss due to multitasking interruptions, our “national attention deficit.”

Well, as a historian I know that there is nothing (totally) new under the sun. One hundred years ago, both social reforms and the Arts and Crafts movement arose to counter the inhumane work conditions and concrete and plastic culture of industrialization. The 1960s hippie response to the military-industrial complex and 1970s environmental movement to create better stewardship of the earth are familiar to all of you. Fortunately, we have the freedom to come together out of concern for the victims of modernization.

In China, this October 1 National Day will celebrate sixty years of CCP rule. Most likely there will be nothing in the official media but kudos for the legacy thus far, and portrayal of a bright future. However, there are already signs that some in the elite are recommending a healthy re-thinking about the human costs of the past sixty plus years of accelerated development—first under socialist planning and collectivization and then under capitalist marketization. I hope this does not lead to a backlash against globalization but to a more balanced view and better management of the process. Change is greatly needed, especially in the policy of integrating China’s western frontier areas (Tibet and Xinjiang) through rapid industrialization and commercialization. When we are out here in South Dakota in the summer, I read a lot of history of the American West, and am reminded of the huge price the native Americans paid and still are paying for Anglo America’s choice to use military force and cultural subjugation to impose modernity.

It seems to me that the terrorist attack of September 11, global drug and human trafficking, and the world recession have made it impossible not to count the inevitable costs that come with the benefits of late modernity. Advanced technology and trade definitely have brought millions out of poverty and disease to join the global middle class, and yet also have also brought new kinds of complex threats to human welfare. We no longer assume, as our optimistic counterparts did in the Progressive Era (see my 2009 #1 essay), that development will lead automatically to more freedom and happiness for individuals or peoples. As Joshua Yates wrote in the Spring 2009 issue of Culture, “To be sure, we still live ‘as if’ progress was guaranteed, but we do so defensively, knowing that we may be wrong. . . . Modern achievement seems to be inescapably double-edged. . . . Reality is Janus-faced.”

How then in this global era, with its pros and cons, should we measure the quality of life in light of our faith in Eternity? The answer is not “the economy, stupid,” but “people.” The main point I often recall from C. S. Lewis’ essay, “The Weight of Glory,” is that only people (souls) are eternal and therefore of ultimate significance. The survey cited in my last essay found that Americans used to spend much more time with immediate family, relatives and neighbors. As people spend more time online, personal friendships of intimate sharing number no more than five. Even those relationships seem more stressful as we have difficulty making time to “be there” in person for each other.

Our recent 40th wedding anniversary party, which our children and a dozen decades-old friends made great effort to attend, symbolized to me the ultimate importance of modeling the faithfulness of God, as He loves us, in our faithfulness to loving each other in all circumstances.

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