The man lives more by technique than by nature

As long as he depended exclusively on the latter, that is, for more than nine tenths of the time elapsed since the mutations that gave rise to him in the Pleistocene, he made very little progress. He died without leaving traces, like any ordinary animal, despite his notable biological differences from them. But his situation began to change radically when he managed to establish a technical relationship with his environment. Without technique, man would have created and invented practically nothing; he would have become an empty gentleman of the animal kingdom. Technique turns him into a useful being; it instructs him; and even educates him, because it promotes in him new attitudes in relation to his environment. Just as genetic mutation was the basis of his biological evolution, technique is the supervising and corrective agent of his evolutionary process, and, to a certain extent, its inspiration.

It could be said that without technique there is no man. Between him and nature, the environment and the universe, technique is always present as a basic articulation. Throughout his life, man does nothing but build technical scaffolding in order to establish that articulation as effectively as possible. When people speak of technique, they tend to think of a mechanical activity or object, based on repetition. “Acquiring a technique” sounds like “acquiring a skill,” that is, learning how to perform a task or action properly and then continuing to repeat that skill without turning again to intelligence. But technique is, on the contrary, and “by nature,” functionally variable; as much as, or more than, a biological organism; it demands reflection and constant vigilant attitudes from man. The machine itself is not uniform in its operation, because it lives by adapting to the different conditions of its environment: temperature, fuel, energy, handling, the raw material it works with, and so on. When those conditions change above or below the machine’s capacity to adapt to change, it suffers and may reach, like man, a state of collapse. The fact that collapse in man is expressed through a subtle range of reactions with a markedly dramatic tone, which does not usually occur with the machine, does not mean that the machine cannot also come to express itself in that tone. Electronic machines, as they become more complex and perfected, will also reach their dramatic and even pathetic tone. They will be seen, “bewildered,” “desperate,” as if they were human creatures, trying to react to certain problematic situations placed before them.

Between man and the machine, biologically, there is an abyss; but technically, there is not. Every human activity can, in a certain way, be repeated by a technical process. The first function of technique was to solve problems. Its second function, almost simultaneous with the first, was to pose them. Technique, like man, lives by solving and posing problems. It is his best and most faithful companion; it urges him to investigate, discover and invent; it keeps him alert; it protects him; it awakens new desires in him and gives him the opportunity to discover how to satisfy them. It is a source of thought, because thoughts are born from problematic situations.

Man is variation and not repetition thanks to technique. It saves him from routine; it forces him to seek solutions to new situations in life; it keeps him in tension; it makes him feel uncomfortable, eager to “change position.” Only in this way can he evolve. Technical progress is not in contradiction with human progress. Man’s technical attitude was and remains decisive for his progress and evolution. Technological thought is the antithesis of magical thought. To obtain what he wants, Aladdin rubs his magic lamp and the Genie appears to ask for his orders, which he fulfills strictly and punctually. But the genie does not go beyond Aladdin’s thought. If Aladdin had asked him for a rabid dog or a lightning bolt over his head, the Genie would have duly provided them. Technique is wiser and more honest than magic: it immediately warns man of the danger of his creations and dangerous or monstrous requests. How would Aladdin have reacted if the Genie had returned to tell him that he had not found the 50 white slaves and 50 Black slaves he had requested, nor the 50 golden trays full of precious stones, but instead smaller and unequal quantities of each group, while he could bring him 50 green slaves, 50 blue slaves and 50 artificial satellites? Aladdin would have felt deeply bewildered, with no possibility of reacting or managing to give an answer. Magical thought is so weak, fleeting and arbitrary that, if things do not come out perfect and all at once, they do not come out at all. It should not be trusted. Since it is not based on any reality or calculation, everything is erased by the slightest failure of chance. By contrast, if technical thought poses a problem and does not arrive at its solution, it can go back over the first steps until it discovers the error; or take another path; and then move forward until it reaches a correct result.