Vol 7.4 DEOSNEWS

DEOSNEWS Vol. 7 No. 4, ISSN 1062-9416.

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EDITORIAL

Our--in many ways--uncritical transformation to an information society

has attracted the attention of social philosophers such as Jacques

Ellul, Ivan Illich, and Neil Postman. Ellul's injunction that we need

to prepare children "to live _in_ technology and at the same time

_against_ technology" and Postman's observation that we are "informing

ourselves to death" were intended to initiate much-needed dialogue on

the consequences of this radical social transformation. In this

month's issue of DEOSNEWS, Don Olcott presents his perspectives on

this phenomenon by drawing parallels to the social transformation

described by George Orwell in his novel _1984_.

DEOSNEWS subscribers who find themselves intrigued by these concepts

may be interested in an upcoming conference to be held at Penn State

September 17-20, 1997. "Education and Technology: Asking the Right

Questions" will feature, among others, Neil Postman and Ivan Illich

in an exploration of the role of educational policy in relation

to the expansion of technology in personal and social life. Additional

information is available from Dr. Henry Johnson, 406 Rackley Building,

Penn State University, University Park, PA, 16802. Tel: 814-865-1488;

Fax: 814-865-1480; e-mail: hcj2@psu.edu.

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WHERE ARE YOU GEORGE ORWELL? WE GOT THE YEAR . . . MISSED

THE MESSAGE!

Dr. Don Olcott, Jr.

Director, Institute for the Management of Distance Education (MDE)

and Manager for Institutional Services

Western Cooperative for Educational Telecommunications

Western Interstate Commission for Higher Education (WICHE)

P. O. Drawer P

Boulder, CO 80301-9752

3093-541-0233

Fax 303-541-0291

E-mail: DonOlcott@wiche.edu

During the last decade, the proliferation of communications

technologies has transformed every major social institution in our

society from business, education, and government to medicine,

insurance, travel, and entertainment. We can shop on television,

access our banking accounts by voice mail, reserve our recreational

and travel itineraries by computer, and communicate instantaneously

with people worldwide via the Internet and World Wide Web.

Technology has changed the way we live, the way we work, and,

perhaps most importantly, the way we learn.

Today, we embrace technology as the inevitable evolution of

modern science. And yet, our preoccupation with pushing back the

"technological" frontiers of knowledge has created an ostensible

delusion that permeates our social conscience and conveys the

message that technology is synonymous with progress. We embark

upon each new endeavor with the illusion that technology can

expurgate any problem . . . efficiently, economically, and without

impending social consequences.

In retrospect, recent history has shown that the advent of new

technologies has been accompanied by auspicious promises of

progress whereby technology would resolve our major social

problems and move us into a new era. The paradox, of course, has

been that with each successive technological revolution new issues

have arisen whose origins emanate from the technology used to

allegedly solve earlier problems. In fact, technology as a problem-

solving strategy has been a salient catalyst for creating new social

problems.

The examples from contemporary history are many. The Industrial

Revolution of the nineteenth century was heralded as the epitome of

American progress. This age, however, was marked by mass

industrialization, urbanization, and immigration that created

environmental, housing, child labor, and discriminatory injustices as

well as political and economic isolation for the rural populace (Hunt,

Martin, Rosenwein, Po-chia Hsia, & Smith 1995).

During the second world war, the American government invested

nearly two billion dollars in the Manhattan Project and the

development of the atomic bomb. The benefits of this technology,

then and now, are still arguable. What is not arguable is that the

nuclear age simultaneously created a post-war era dominated by

political polarization that more than once took us to the edge of

Armageddon. From the scientific laboratories of the University of

Chicago and the mountainous retreat of Los Alamos, our pursuit of

progress via technology left us pondering the moral dilemma: What

have we done? (Goodchild 1981).

Of course, society has benefited immensely from the technological

innovations of the twentieth century. This fact should not be

underemphasized. The television revolutionized communications

and created an indispensable venue for politics, education, and

entertainment. We all enjoy the information access that television

affords each of us in our daily lives.

The evolution of the computer has transformed education, medicine,

business, and government and has been the single most important

catalyst for moving society from the industrial to the information

age. These advances, however, have also blinded us, perhaps

inadvertently, to the adverse effects of technology. The "progress"

axiom has become so pervasive that we no longer question whether

technology may have unanticipated negative consequences.

Even the aforementioned innovations have created unforseen

consequences. Television violence is now the norm rather than the

exception. Albert Bandura's experiments from the 1960s on the

imitation effects of television violence on children are alive and "not

so well" in today's society.

The computer (and other technological toys) has created a

technological dependency that leaves one perplexed at times. Do we

remember the written word and the creative imagination that was the

essence of Mozart, Bach, Emily Dickensen, and George Bernard

Shaw, those whose "high tech" was simply the pen? Do we

remember the gift of the hand-written letter. . . not only to receive

one but to write one? If we have lost the written word to an earlier

age, then we have lost much more than any of us are willing to

acknowledge.

When 1984 came and went, many people dismissed Orwell's

prophecy about a technologically dependent society and the

inequitable dispersion of political and economic power as absurd.

Today, we are seeing the concentration of technological political and

economic power manifested in unprecedented corporate mergers and

the growing disparity of technological access and use between urban

and rural societies across the globe (Orwell 1949). "Big Brother"

and "Doublethink," while subtle and elusive, persist in the

information age.

The passage of the 1996 Telecommunications Act in America will,

in fact, increase these trends despite the rhetoric from corporate

media moguls about the benevolence of free market enterprise in the

media world and its unquestionable contributions to societal

progress. An illusionary progress at best and certainly not for the

benefit of all.

Perhaps, as many literary critics have observed, Orwell's words

have served more as a warning, rather than a prophecy, about the

role of technology in modern society. The essence of Orwellian

thought was about questioning the role of technology (and who

controls it) in our lives rather than a naive preoccupation with the

year 1984 (Orwell 1949). But have we heard his warning? The

answer is a compelling and tragic no!

Given the promises and perils of technology, what can we as

educators do to harness technology? How can we as educators

enlighten today's youth about their technological choices? We have

arrived at the technological crossroads . . . where do we go from

here?

First, we must dispense with the axiom that technology is

synonymous with progress. We must pause long enough to step

out of the technological maze and define the social boundaries of

technology in education, society, and our lives rather than creating a

culture permeated by what I call "techapathy."

What is techapathy? That point where we become so dependent on

technology that we forget those creative and imaginative powers that

have served us so well in the past. That point where we become

frustrated that technology has invaded our freedom, limited our

choices, and taken control of our future. We must be willing to

embark on our own personal journey across the technological maze

and ask some difficult questions:

* When is technology too much technology?

* What are the social ramifications of a technology-dependent

society?

* What are the adverse effects of technology on our children?

* What is our responsibility for setting the boundaries of technology

for our children's generation?

Moreover, techapathy manifests itself in controversial social and

legal challenges. Today, the Internet and World Wide Web provide

unprecedented access to vital information for educators, doctors,

students, and families. To be sure, technology has blurred the

boundaries between the workplace, the home, and the classroom.

At first glance, these appear as glorious achievements for the

information age. A second look, however, tells a different story,

particularly for our children: access to adult entertainment, the latest

list of para-military organizations, racial and hate groups with their

own home pages, and the transmission of pornograhic and indecent

material (supposedly illegal) to minors.

Of course, the free speech guaranteed by the 1st Amendment

stretches our tolerance levels here as in other social arenas. And yet,

while we appropriately embrace the heritage of these rights in a free

and democratic society, one must ponder the question: What's

wrong with this picture? Is technology out of control? Who controls

what, for whom, and by what means?

We are the last generation that bridges the old with the new. We

remember a world where television violence was the exception

rather than the norm . . . a world without remote controls and

channel surfing . . . an era of pencils and typewriters rather than

computers . . . a world where cellular phones were the imaginative

domain of Gene Roddenberry and our Star Trek characters.

Today, our children are not only technologically literate . . . they are

_technologically cultured_. By this, I mean their level of comfort

with technology is so high and so pervasive, one must question their

capacity to define the social boundaries of technology in future

society. If our own generation is indifferent to these questions,

what credence will our children give them?

As we gaze out across the social landscape, no-one seems to be

asking these questions. Again, the axiom of "technology as

progress" has created a social paralysis oblivious to these crucial

questions. As educators, we must be willing to ask these questions

and engage in discourse about the relative merits of technology in all

facets of human endeavor, from our classrooms to our homes to our

social institutions.

We need not approach technology with fear and apathy, but rather

with deliberation, forethought, and perhaps even compassion.

Technology is not necessarily synonymous with progress. The

sooner we consider this premise, the sooner we can collectively

establish the social boundaries of technology and impart a wisdom

to our children that says "just because we can, doesn't mean we

should."

In the educational arena, we must continually strive to create a

balance between our investments in human resources and in

advanced technologies. Technology's greatest contribution to

education is that it has forced us to revisit the question: What

constitute effective teaching and learning?

Today, the educational enterprise is being transformed by the

promises and perils of technology. And yet, it is equally true that

technology does, in fact, demand ethical and moral reflection (Reed

and Stork 1990). This is self-evident by the fact that mass

deployment of technology in all spheres of human endeavor affects

the lives of many. The crucial questions, however, cannot be

answered if they are not being asked.

We educators (particularly those who control technology) have a

responsibility to reflect upon the ethical and moral issues around

technology. We are a voice for successive generations, for teaching

and learning, and for promoting public discourse about the relative

merits of technology in education and society. Mr. Orwell would

certainly agree with this assertion and would echo that "just because

we can, doesn't mean we would should" is a good place to begin

anew.

Perhaps George Orwell's vision is best summed up by Walter

Cronkite in his 1983 preface to a reprint edition of 1984:

If not a prophecy, what was 1984? It was, as many have

noticed, a warning: a warning about the future of human

freedom in a world where political organization and

technology can manufacture power in dimensions that would

have stunned the imaginations of earlier ages.

. . . . It was a novelistic essay on power, how it is acquired

and maintained, how those who seek it or seek to keep it tend

to sacrifice anything and everything in its name.

1984 is an anguished lament and a warning that we may not be

strong enough nor wise enough nor moral enough to cope with

the kind of power we have learned to amass.

That warning vibrates powerfully when we allow ourselves to sit

still and think carefully about orbiting satellites that can read our

license plates in a parking lot and computers that can tap into

thousands of phone calls and telex transmissions at once

and other computers that can do our banking and purchasing,

can watch the house and tell a monitoring station what television

program we are watching and how many people there are in the

room. We think of Orwell when we read of scientists who

believe they have located in the human brain the seats of

behavioral emotions like aggression, or learn more about the

vast potential of genetic engineering.

And we hear echoes of that warning chord in the constant

demand for greater security and comfort, for less risk in our

societies. We recognize, however dimly, that greater efficiency,

ease, and security may come at a substantial price in freedom,

that law and order can be a doublethink version of

oppression, that individual liberties surrendered for whatever

good reason are freedom lost.

. . . . It has been said that 1984 fails as a prophecy because it

succeeded as a warning--Orwell's terrible vision has

been averted. Well, that kind of self-congratulation is, to

say the least, premature. 1984 may not arrive on time, but

there's always 1985. (Cronkite, 1983, pp. 1-3)

And there's always 2000! "Big Brother" may be on sabbatical, but

don't be deceived for he's not far away. Perhaps it's about time we

got the message--if not for ourselves, for our children and their

children.

REFERENCES

Cronkite, W. (1983). Preface to 1984 Reprint Edition. New York:

Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, Inc.

Goodchild, P. (1981). J. Robert Oppenheimer: Shatterer of

Worlds. Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company.

Hunt, L., T. R. Martin, B. H. Rosenwein, R. Po-chia Hsia, & B.

G. Smith. (1995). The Challenge of the West: Peoples and

Cultures from 1560 to the Global Age: Volume Two. Lexington,

MA: D. C. Heath and Company.

Orwell, G. (1949). 1984. New York: Harcourt Brace

Jovanovich, Inc.

Reed, D., & T. J. Sork. (1990). Ethical Considerations in Distance

Education. The American Journal of Distance Education, 4,(2):30-43.

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