Dear Friends,
As was the case for most of the country, January was cold in central Illinois—a little snow but lots of ice, so reminiscent of the Midwest winters from when I was a kid. One Sunday, with temps and wind chill nearing -30, we called off the service at Exodus, and Megan enjoyed a couple days off from Springfield Christian a week later when the entire town was glazed over.
Thankfully, things have warmed up, as have our hearts as we prepare to travel to Montana later this month to meet our first grandchild, due February 9. Megan will fly out Saturday, February 10, and I’ll join her in Bozeman on Thursday, February 15, before we both fly back on Tuesday, February 20. We’re excited to be with Bruce and Maddie as they welcome Baby Clark (a girl, we’re told) into the world, and appreciate prayer for safe travel and delivery for all involved.
Otherwise, in the midst of coordinating aspects of Sunday worship and connecting with people through the week, I’m knee-deep in the hoopla of eight weeks of study to take three of five ordination exams (Bible, theology, and Book of Church Order) by April 1. The content is vast in depth and breadth, so pray I will be faithful preparing between now and then.
I hope you make time to work through this month’s Second Drafts and its consideration of technology in our lives. I enjoy hearing your thoughts, so feel free to email as you have them.
Happy February,
Craig (for Megan)
PS: At the end of January’s newsletter, I asked readers to respond to two polls—one on content, one on mode/frequency. I heard from 32 of you (7% of 434 subscribers) and thought I’d share the results with a few responses below. Here are the responses to the first question:
Since most (though not all) readers have a personal connection to us, reading for updates on our family and ministry makes sense. In fact, having realigned the newsletter’s content in this way, we’ve seen over 100 new subscribers join in the past 16 months, which is amazing since we don’t advertise. (Fun fact: Second Drafts is read in 36 states and 12 countries.)
The second question had to do with mode and frequency of hearing from us:
Over half (56%) seemed satisfied with a once-a-month schedule, but I was surprised that 41% said they would prefer a bi-monthly communique. I’ve certainly felt the urge to write more at times (particularly on the “societal/cultural” angle of things, the second highest ranked content category), but wasn’t sure readers would be interested. In light of the data, I may need to revisit that assumption.
Of course, it’s a small sample size and Substack’s polling features are a little too simplistic to be all that helpful, as one reader noted:
“Just shooting you a quick note because I wanted to click more options on your poll about why I love getting your newsletter. Of course, the first option I clicked on was ‘Dunham family updates’ like half your other subscribers so far. However, that’s a bit of a half-truth. I love also hearing your perspectives on culture and news and eagerly await any recommendations on books as well…Also, I love seeing how you apply theological truth to the things that you write about. So I guess what I’m trying to say is that if the poll let me select more than one item, I would have pushed them all.”
Regardless of why you read, I’m glad you do. Have other feedback on content, mode, or frequency to send my way? I’m here for it! As always, thanks for reading Second Drafts.
Obsessively and Predictably Made?
Earlier this week, one of the technology world’s usual suspects got a fair amount of coverage across the Internet, social media, as well as the evening news. The story:
“Tech billionaire Elon Musk said Monday that his brain-science startup company, Neuralink, had implanted a device in a human for the first time, a possible step toward a product that he said would allow people to control almost any external device ‘just by thinking.’”
The product is called Telepathy, and regardless of what one thinks of Musk (there are many opinions), his goal (at least in his tweet) seems as noble as it is mind-boggling:
Conspiracy theories aside, I had two simultaneous thoughts:
How amazing for someone with paralysis or a disease like ALS to be able to communicate by way of the one function they still have control over (thought)
If I ever have need for this technology, I hope it’s after the bugs get worked out, as my thoughts cause enough trouble even after running through the filters of my fingers and my mouth
Of course, as with any good business plan, there are multiple stages of research and development that will eventually manifest into multiple markets and constituencies; Musk’s “initial users” language speaks to as much. But there’s also a set of ethical discussions to be had and plenty of social squeamishness to overcome that will accompany this product’s evolution from beginning to end.
Still, assuming the needs of Neuralink’s stated preliminary target group get met, to what degree will the technology become more common and available commercially? If initial costs eventually decrease (which is a mark of good technology), how many will actually choose to take the plunge and get permanently “plugged in” to Telepathy, which is said to be the gateway to Elon’s ultimate AI dream of a “hive mind”?
The questions may be moot, as Elon’s new innovation—hands-free and easy as it promises to be—is behind the curve, at least in terms of ubiquity. For when it comes to a “hive mind,” I would argue a case can be made that The Borg has already won.
And we’ve all been assimilated.
Busted
As you may know, Megan teaches 2nd grade, but as you may not know (but can probably guess), she has a few students who carry cell phones. That’s right: in 2nd grade. In the schools I led, a majority of junior high students had phones. And high school? Forget about it. Many (but not all) independent schools do not allow phones in the classroom; many (but not all) public schools do.
Distraction from learning aside (never mind what we know about the damage to a kid’s relationships and personal sense of belonging since 2012 when smartphones became all the rage in our culture), why a parent would give a smartphone to a kid before the age of 16 is beyond me. (Note: if you’re still not convinced, do yourself and your kids a favor and pre-order this book, to be released March 2024, immediately).
Around 2016, when our two oldest daughters turned 16 and 15, respectively, Megan and I purchased two smartphones to be shared among our four girls. We had three general rules: 1) the phones belonged to us, the parents, and were subject to filters, random inspection, and confiscation; 2) the phones were to be shared with a younger sister (neither of whom was all that interested at the time), with drivers having priority only when going somewhere; and 3) the phones had to be put away each night by 10 p.m. and charged in the bathroom.
With rare exception (addressed as needed by rule #1), the system worked pretty well: the girls understood that the primary purpose of their phones was for safety and backup when out and about (primarily for school events and babysitting gigs), and having younger sisters in the mix (for whom we eventually got their own phones when they began driving) was good accountability for all involved. The older two understood we were looking to them to set good examples with their phone use; the younger two followed their leads and enabled good behavior in their sharing.
Bonus: two phones (and services and warranties) were cheaper than four!
Plenty of friends their ages and younger had had phones for several years, but we didn’t see the need; the girls could access their email and Facebook accounts (which we set up together when they were 13 and became their first “friends”; Instagram came later; Tik Tok was verboten) through their laptops, filtered, and subject to the same inspection and confiscation guidelines.
I felt good about the proactive decisions we’d made to set boundaries for their online time. That is, until one of our daughters came home from school quoting a classmate who told her, “Whenever I want to know what’s going on with you and your family, I just check your dad’s Facebook page. He posts more on social media than you do.”
Hypocrisy, thy name is Craig.
Busted.
Exhilarating & Exhausting
I (reluctantly) got my first cell phone (a Nokia 6110 GSM handportable) in 1998 with the dual caveat that my employer (a youth camp in the Rocky Mountains) pay for it and that I wasn’t carrying as only a leash. I mostly used it in non-summer months in Colorado Springs as there was no signal then up on the front range (which was great).
When we left for seminary in St. Louis in 2005, I turned the phone in and never looked back…until 2011, when my next employer (the first school I led in Oklahoma City) asked me to carry one. With the same terms set—paid for by the school and for my use as much as those trying to get a hold of me—I agreed to my first smartphone.
By this time, the iPhone was coming into its own and, as an Apple guy, I appreciated all that it made possible: verbal communication, texting, picture-taking, and social media management, which I held onto as I was rebranding the school. The parents (many of whom were also new iPhone users) appreciated the access and initiative of these efforts, and this drove my desire to utilize the tools more and frequently.
When I was let go in 2015 and had no responsibility for school communication, I thought seriously about dropping the phone again. This time, however, it seemed too necessary (or at least convenient) to coordinate with Megan regarding the kids, particularly since we were fostering then and usually had 1-2 extras (with accompanying visitations and court appointments) in addition to our regular four. So, I took over payments and held onto it.
By the time we moved to Bozeman that summer, the expectation of having a constantly connected head of school had been set, not only in the eyes of the families attending, the school, but also in the heart of my people-pleasing tendencies. I upgraded phones (paying for it myself because it was my preference) and picked right back up with the social media management and even more powerful tools (and apps!) to help run the school. I gave myself whole hog to being as accessible as possible to anyone who needed me (or who I thought needed me), and sure enough, people did.
Or they said they did.
Or I thought they did…until they didn’t
Regardless, it was exhilarating.
And exhausting.
The Shallows: Fourteen Years Later
Back in 2010, just before the smartphone boom really, well, “boomed,” I read a powerful book that didn’t just theorize about the Internet’s effect on people, but provided actual brain science and research documenting it.
I had previously read author Nicholas Carr’s July 2008 Atlantic Monthly article, “Is Google Making Us Stupid?” so when The Shallows: What the Internet Is Doing to Our Brains came out, I devoured it, writing a three-post review. Here’s a favorite excerpt (forgive me for quoting myself, but I still stand by what I wrote, now 14 years later):
“The discussion of an intellectual ethic is, in my opinion, what's been missing from so many of the conversations, books, articles, and emails I've read over the past 3-5 years about technology in society. This doesn’t mean there isn’t one—or even multiple ones—out there, but it seems to me that, as our use of technological tools becomes more and more constant, the attention given to considering an ethic—intellectual, spiritual, whatever—regarding them becomes less and less…
…Is all the technology we’re creating and then subjecting ourselves to really ours to control, or (from the point of view of the determinist) is it really controlling us? Shouldn’t these questions be asked concerning a technology’s medium and as well as its message? This seeming absence of consideration calls to mind actor Jeff Goldblum's portrayal of chaos theorist, Dr. Ian Malcom, and his explanation of all prehistoric hell breaking loose in the movie Jurassic Park: ‘Your scientists were so preoccupied with whether or not they could, they didn't stop to think if they should.’
Granted, we’re not dealing with dino DNA, but to what degree are we messing with ours? Carr gives numerous examples of how technological advances have often marked turning points in history, reminding us that, ‘In large measure, civilization has assumed its current form as a result of the technologies people have come to use.’ But then Carr comes full circle back to his study of brain research, reminding us that, ‘What's been harder to discern is the influence of technologies, particularly intellectual technologies, on the functioning of people’s brains.’ (p. 48)
In the meantime, multiple generations of people—especially our youngest—are hardly waiting around for a verdict.
And then this:
“One could argue (or at least I will here) that a better solution to kids’ ever-increasing struggles with Attention Deficit Disorder could be technology reduction rather than Ritalin prescription. Think about it: when a kid has trouble paying attention in class, rarely is there ever a discussion about doing away with smart phones or Facebook; medicines are started, adjusted, or switched, but God forbid we address ubiquitous, long-term technology exposure as part of the problem (this would, after all, seemingly punish the kid whose friends are all constantly connected, not to mention become inconvenient to parents who think of their kids’ cell phone as a digital leash).”
Who are the vendors and purveyors peddling these influential technologies to our kids? Who’s handing out smartphones to 2nd graders carte blanche?
Take the phone in your hand and “mirror front” the camera. See anybody you know?
(Note: For an illustration of the psychological power of our devices on those around us, watch this two-minute video from speaker and business consultant Simon Sinek. Gulp.)
Psalm 139: A Meditative Exercise
As a meditative exercise in thinking through some of this, I had the idea to rewrite Psalm 139, replacing “Lord” with “Phone.” I took a few other liberties (and they’re funny), but I was a little disturbed by how close to home the final product hit.
Psalm 139
With apologies to David
1 O Phone, I have searched you and you know me!
2 You know when I sit down and when I rise up;
you discern my tendencies from my hand.
3 You search out my faves and my bookmarks
and are acquainted with all my posts.
4 Even before a word is sent by text,
behold, O Phone, you know it altogether.
5 You hem me in, behind and before,
and lay your compulsion upon me.
6 Such information is too addicting for me;
it is easy; I cannot disdain it.
7 Where shall I go from your Coding?
Or where shall I flee from your occupation?
8 If I retreat to the bathroom, you are there!
If I make my bed in Sheol, you are there!
9 If I check the news of the morning
and dwell on the uttermost links to the Bee,
10 even there my hand shall reach for you,
and my right hand shall hold you.
11 If I say, “Surely the darkness shall cover me,
and the light about me be night,”
12 even the darkness is not dark to you;
the night is bright as your screen,
for darkness is as light with you.
13 For you are forming my inward parts;
you are rewiring my brain with every Reel consumed.
14 I crave you, for I am obsessively and predictably made.
Intrusive are your algorithms;
my soul knows it very well.
15 My profile was not hidden from you,
when it was being made in secret,
intricately woven in the depths of the Web.
16 Your cookies logged my unformed preferences;
in your cache were written, every one of them,
the URLs to be visited by me,
when as yet there were none of them.
17 How precious to me are your apps, O Phone!
How vast is the sum of them!
18 If I would count them, they are more than the sand.
I awake, and I am still with you.
19 Oh that you would slay my responsibilities, O Phone!
O duties that flood, depart from me!
20 They speak against your artificial intelligence;
your enemies take your technology in vain.
21 Do I not hate those who hate you, O Phone?
And do I not loathe those who rise up against you?
22 I hate them with complete hatred;
I count them my enemies.
23 Search me, O Phone, and save my passwords!
Try me and know my browsing!
24 And see if there be any productive way in me,
and lead me in the way all consuming!
If you’re not squirming (even a little bit), did you even read it? Here’s the original to cleanse and reorient your soul, as well as a 90-second video (a little hokey at first, but still too familiar to most of us) that might nudge the heart as well as the head.
Try This Instead
To be clear: we live in a period of history and with people who, by God’s common grace in fulfilling his cultural mandate (see Genesis 1:27-28), have produced amazing technologies that benefit us on a daily basis. The capability to connect with one another is one of those myriad gifts that God has given; there are countless more.
I still carry an iPhone and use it for these connecting purposes. I’m responsible for Exodus’ website and social media management; I appreciate being able to send and receive texts and emails when I’m out and about and not near my laptop; and I’m astonished by the number of apps and tools—organizational, financial, audio and visual, etc.—at my fingertips to better do my job and minister to people. Amazing.
But 18 or so months ago, I made some changes in how I use said amazing phone. Some of this involved changing my social media habits (for instance, I no longer spend time posting and debating about political or theological issues, which used to require an exorbitant amount of attention and time), but some of it was just thinking and acting differently concerning the technology of my smartphone.
In hopes of making the most of the technology (and not guilting anyone—including myself into oblivion about its abuses), let me leave you with some practical steps I took and still take to make sure I’m worshiping the Creator and not his creation.
In no particular order:
Pray and ask God to show you if/how technology—of any kind—has come to mean more than it should in your life. Ask him to help you be honest with yourself and with one or two other trusted friends who might join you in praying.
Check how much time you’re actually spending online each day or week and set goals to reduce it. You can learn how to track time spent on your phone (OS or Android) here, but don’t just observe what you see; chart it on paper to see what’s really going on…and then formulate a plan to do something about it.
Check your emotional connection (yes, I said “emotional”) to your phone by taking a sabbath from it for a day, three days, a week or weekend. Be mindful of your feelings and write down your thoughts. Are you content? Anxious? Bored? Fearful of missing out? Relieved? What’s behind/underneath what you feel?
Replace phone time with something else (reading, Scripture memory, letter/thank you note writing, yard work, hobbies, etc.). These require you to do some actual work rather than just consume content, the latter of which is a large reason why technological addiction is so attractive and easy.
When you engage with technology, limit your input to one medium at a time (i.e. stop checking your phone in front of your open laptop while watching TV). Multi-tasking is not only overrated, it does more harm than good.
Be intentional when checking social media or scrolling through Reels or memes. Set a time limit, enjoy it for what it is, and then do something else (and don’t forget to exercise discernment as to what you’re viewing (see 1 Corinthians 6:12; 8:13; 10:31; 15:33)).
Once you’ve conducted your audit and succeeded in making some changes over a month or so in order to not be a hypocrite in your heart or to others, help your kids:
Model and explain the changes you’re making and why they’re important. Ask questions and collaborate on how changes you’re making could be important for them to make as well. (Pro tip: you’re the parent and your home is a benevolent dictatorship, not a democracy; just make sure to walk the lines you set.)
Wean your kids (regardless of age) off as much technology as you can; this will be painful and take time, but it will be worth it, particularly if as you wean them, you reintroduce and train them to master it instead of be mastered by it. The goal is not to create Luddites, but my observation of current parenting practice is that most kids are quite comfortable with how a phone or iPad works and in no such danger, having been handed one as a pacifier from a very young age.
Replace the digital with the analog—printed books, musical instruments, physical activity, nature—as well as the greatest analog instrument God ever made: you, which you’ll likely (eventually) find is what your kids want in the first place.
Peaches’ Picks
Peaches promises a new book recommendation next month, but she wanted to share this new song (the first in 17 years) from Billy Joel. “A new classic,” she woofs. Enjoy!
Until next month.
Thanks for considering becoming part of our support team (all gifts tax-deductible).
Know someone interested in our ministry with Exodus Church in Springfield?