Star Trek is not Christian.  Although religious themes often arise in this franchise that includes twelve films (counting Into Darkness,  which was released today) and five television series (plus one animated television series), the story lines generally do not overtly support a Christian worldview.  Although some characters have a religious faith, that faith is typically portrayed as a peculiarity—simply an aspect of a particular culture or society. Other times the Star Trek hero would debunk the “gods” of a society (despite the Prime Directive prohibiting the Federation from interfering with the natural development of a society).  For example, in the film Final Frontier, Captain James Kirk asks “Excuse me. I’d just like to ask a question.  What does God need with a starship?”  thereby provoking an alien (posing as a deity) into a rage which thus reveals its less-than-divine nature.    Nevertheless, the story lines often explored the moral foundations of our own society by imagining our traditions conflicting with those of a fictional alien society.

Star Trek is not Christian—not overtly.  However, all the world belongs to God.  Every cubic centimeter of the universe falls under the sovereign reign of Christ, the Lord.  While writers of novels or film scripts can imagine a world without God, that doesn’t make it so.  Science fiction can leave God out, but Christians can still glean wisdom from even atheistic art.  God grants rain that waters the gardens of both the wicked and the righteous.  He grants rational thought and occasional insights to believers and nonbelievers.  Thus I find a sign of God’s grace in the thoughtful gems of philosophy, creative anticipation of future technologies, and moral questions buried in much of science fiction, including Star Trek.  To illustrate, consider five virtues central to Christianity that also appear in Star Trek story lines:  Justice, Stewardship, Humility, Benevolence, and Responsibility.  Spoiler warning:  I won’t give away anything about the new film, but I will discuss the entire plot of several episodes and films of the past in my examples below.

Justice

Justice is fair treatment of others.  God calls his people to act justly throughout the old and new testaments. God is also particularly concerned about those that are less fortunate in society—orphans, widows, the poor.  Justice demands that we don’t let the rich bribe their way out of accountability for their actions, nor walk roughshod over the rights of the poor. 

In the episode “Measure of a Man” from Star Trek: The Next Generation, Commander Bruce Maddox wants to dismantle his fellow officer, the android Lt. Commander Data, in order to learn about him.  Maddox is fascinated by Data—as a technology, not as a person.  Commander William Riker and Captain Jean Luc Picard are forced into adversarial roles in a court case to decide Data’s fate.  Under protest, Riker prosecutes the case to let Maddox have his way.  Picard defends Data’s right to choose.  During the course of the trial, Riker highlights the superhuman (and therefore inhuman) strength and intelligence of Data.  Riker removes Data’s arm, showing the court that Data is “just” a machine.  However, because Riker respects Data as a person, not a mere machine, he whispers an apology to Data while doing so.  In his most devastating demonstration, Ricker flips a switch at Data’s neck to instantly shut him off.  As Data slumps lifeless in his chair, Riker sits down, visibly showing remorse at having “proved” Data is simply a machine and not a sentient being with rights.

For his part, Picard first tries to defend Data by showing how similar Data is to humans.  But that tactic fails in the face of Riker’s demonstrations.  He then realizes, at Guinan’s prompting, that the true issue is that Data represents a new race.  The way humans treat Data hints not as much about the nature of the android but more about our own human nature.  Do we treat him as our slave or as our equal?  Do we require proof before we no longer treat someone poorly?

With this new strategy in hand, Picard calls Maddox to the stand to explore what it really means to be sentient.  Maddox identifies three traits of sentient beings (those that would deserve the right to self-determination):  intelligence, self-awareness, consciousness.  Picard persuades Maddox to admit Data possess the first two traits.  He then convinces Maddox and Philippa Louvoix, the court judge, that the third trait is nearly impossible to measure—that we don’t know how to prove humans, much less anyone else, possess consciousness.  Judge Louvoix suggests the heart of this question is the soul, implying this is the true measure of humanity, but concludes we don’t really know who or what can possess a soul.  She subsequently rules Data is sentient and grants him the right to self-determination.  Data then chooses to decline to submit to Maddox’s plan to dismantle him. 

What indeed makes us human?  In classes I have taught at Calvin, I sometimes as my students to make a list of characteristics that make us human.  They sometimes list the ability to learn or the ability to use tools.  They sometimes point to consciousness or the soul, but like Picard, Maddox, and Louvoix, we are quickly stymied when trying to measuring the soul. With Hamlet we ask “what is this quintessence of dust?”  Pointing to the soul quickly becomes a circular definition of humanity:  only humans have souls; we know someone has a soul because they are human.  I myself am hesitant to draw the boundaries of humanness too brightly.  In our attempt to define ourselves carefully, we may stray towards arrogance and pride.  In drawing boundaries tightly, do we seek power over other creatures?  If we require proof of humanness in order to grant rights, do we then create a slippery slope whereby we discard our aged because they are senile or discard are young because they are not yet developed enough in the womb? 

When we limit another’s freedom, it can be for our own ease and for their bondage.  How we treat others reflects our own character.  When I interview candidates for engineering positions at DornerWorks, I often attempt to wander through the coffee kitchen at about the time they are scheduled to arrive, because from there I can observe how they interact with our receptionist at the front desk.  Unbeknownst to the visitor, she is not simply a receptionist but rather our office manager.  Thus this initial moment is often the most telling interaction, hinting at the true character of the visitor.  I look for candidates who treat all others respectfully, not just the boss who might give them a job.  Respect of others is a personal virtue that leads us to seek justice in society around us, particularly for those less fortunate.  In the fictional Star Trek society, we see that though Maddox has a noble goal, any society that treats some better than others can easily be perverted.  In Picard’s defense of Data and his questioning of Maddox’s motives, I hear echos of Orwell’s Animal House, where despite initially noble intentions, eventually “some animals are more equal than others.”

Stewardship

One of the most unusual, but also most beloved episodes of the Star Trek: The Next Generatio was focused almost entirely on one member of the regular cast— Patrick Stewart playing his regular role of Captain Picard—along with a guest cast as the inhabitants of a heretofore unknown world, Kataan.  Picard lives a lifetime on Kataan while under the influence of a strange probe for just 20 minutes of real time.  He raises a family, having children and then seeing his grandchildren.  He learns to love the people and place of Kattan and thus becomes the perfect cultural representative when he returns to consciousness and learns the planet no longer exists because of a supernova long ago, with only the probe remaining—and now Picard feels a kinship with that people and comes to represent a kind of sole survivor.

The deep sense of belonging and community that Picard (known as Kamin) develops is analogous to the Christian sense of calling and vocation that draws us to serve as the body of Christ.  We have a deep connection to our neighbors and also to our world as its stewards.  God calls us to care for the creation, to cultivate it, to develop it.  The story of Kataan tugs at our heart because we innately feel the deep sense of loss when an entire culture is destroyed.  That same grief should touch us when the last speaker of an exotic language dies, when an animal or plant species dies out, or when a society is decimated by war so utterly and so long that they lose their traditions and forget their customs.

Humility

Some of the best Star Trek episodes and films are those with a strong villain, such as we find in Khan Noonien Singh.  The second film released for the Star Trek universe, “The Wrath of Kahn” provided a sequel to the original show episode “Space Seed”.  Part of a cryogenically frozen group of superhumans, Kahn proves to be one of Kirk’s toughest foes.

Stories that teach a moral frequently use the ploy of teaching a virtue by first depicting the associated vice.  Kahn is anything but humble, and by depicting the vice of pride, he teaches us the virtue of humility.  He is unrelentingly proud and confident in his own abilities.  Although the storyline suggests he is a superior human because of eugenic modification, we can all see our own predilection towards pride in this reprobate super man.  Kirk goads Kahn into mistakes by playing on his pride.  In the end Kahn’s pride is his downfall. 

Benevolence

In the “Squire of Gothos” from the original show, the alien creature naming himself “General Trelane .. retired”, turns out to be a temperamental child, chided by his parents by the end of the episode.  Trelane is a buffoon, but also a bully.  He has technological power so advanced that it appears almost magical to the crew of the starship Enterprise.  However, he uses the powers to manipulate and coerce others.  Again we see a morality story that shows us vice (selfishness, greed,  and corrupt power) in order to teach virtue (selflessness and benevolence).

We can draw a lesson from Trelane when we use our technological gadgets today.  Like Trelane, we sometimes wield the power provided by our technology to control and intimidate others for our own pleasure.  Like Trelane hovering constantly near the mirror that hides his wondrous machine, we hover close to our technology, worshipping at the high-tech altar, hoping to direct god-like power to our own purposes.  We steer tons of metal at high speeds along the highway, easily becoming enraged when another vehicle impedes our progress.  Our road rage goads us into becoming road bullies.  We drive recklessly in order to intimidate the object of our wrath, using menacing maneuvers to scare them into submission.  Power so easily corrupts that we easily forget our own place, becoming prideful so that we use power to control others rather than to show generosity and benevolence. 

Responsibility

As the story of “Duet”, from Star Trek: Deep Space Nine unfolds, we learn the story of the guilt of a Cardassian.  Major Kira Nerys visits the infirmary to greet a Bajoran ill with Kalla-Nohra disease.  Instead of a Bajoran liberated from the Cardassian slave labor camp at Gallitep, she finds a Cardassian.  It is hate at first sight for Kira.  The Cardassian is Marritza, a filing clerk that was present at the camp during the mining accident that caused Kalla-Nohra.  Commander Sisko wonders how Kira can be so sure he is culpable—guilty “just for being there”.  Kira is insistent because no Cardassian could stand by during horrible atrocities and not bear some responsibility.

The dialog between Kira and Marritza is a duet of call and response, with Marritza prodding Kira into a frenzy.  He unmasks her deep abhorrence for all Cardassians: “You see, you’re the one who’s lying now, Major. It’s not the truth you’re interested in; all you want is vengeance.” 

Kira reflects how many felt after the real atrocities of war crimes over the last century.  The blood of the dead cried out to the living survivors to pursue justice by punishing the perpetrators.  Lieutenant Jadzia Dax gently persuades Kira to the realization that she wants Marritza to be guilty so that Bajorans can have satisfaction that at last justice has been served.  The implication for Kira is that she might be as bad as those she condemns if she blindly seeks vengeance so far that she would punish an innocent man.

As Kira reconsiders, Marritza pushes harder.  New facts uncover his true identity, not as Marritza the filing clerk, but as Gul Darhe’el, the despot who ran the camp and directed the massacre of thousands of Bajorans.  Once unmasked,  Darhe’el admits no guilt but simply claims duty.  To Kira’s objection “nothing justifies genocide”  he responds “what you call genocide, I call a day’s work.”  Infuriated, Kira is ready to send him to Bajor for a speedy trial and inevitable execution.  But as we watch this scene unfold, the viewer is left wondering why Darhe’el would be so eager to claim responsibility for war crimes and so intent on provoking Kira.

The plot twists yet again when Odo and Bashir dig a little deeper and find they have been subtly misled.  This is not Darhe’el in their holding cell because Darhe’el is dead and furthermore, Darhe’el could not have contracted Kalla-Nohra because he wasn’t present at the camp on the day of the mining accident.  Thus Kira returns to the cell to confront Marritza, who only pretended to be Darhe’el.  He bristles at the suggestion: “You mistake me for that bug? That whimpering nothing? Oh you stupid Bajoran girl, don’t you know who I am? I’m your nemesis. I’m your nightmare. I’m the Butcher of Gallitep!”  But Marritza cannot maintain the charade.  When confronted with the proof that Darhe’el is dead he proclaims “I am alive. I will always be alive! It’s Marritza who’s dead! Marritza, who was good for nothing but cowering under his bunk and weeping like a woman.”  And now he himself begins to weep:  “Who every night covered his ears because he couldn’t bear to hear the screaming… for mercy… of the Bajorans…”

Finally we see the truth.  Marritza seeks atonement for the guilt of all Cardassians.  He pursues his own execution out of extreme remorse for doing nothing while Bajorans were tortured.  He calls himself a coward, yet we see he has gone to great lengths to stand alone and vulnerable to answer for crimes he did not commit.  He has evolved from the self-described coward to become a courageous supplicant in the hands of a Bajoran officer he has manipulated towards hostility.  He is the hero who wishes to sacrifice himself as a token satisfaction of Cardassian complicity.  Yet he himself was not responsible for war crimes.  His guilt was only that he did not raise a voice of objection.  He recalls his failures to Major Kira in the end:  “You have no idea what it’s like to be a coward. To see these horrors and do nothing.”  Could we expect him to do so?  He was an excellent filing clerk, and did that filing in some way contribute to the deadly efficiency of the labor camp?  He himself feels the guilt by association.  He himself wishes to represent the stereotype and expiate that guilt. 

Kira also comes to see the truth, developing a more refined sense of justice through the course of the episode.  In the beginning, she condemns Marritza simply for being present at Gallitep, the forced labor camp.  She slowly moves from a black and white measure of responsibility to recognizing there are degrees of culpability.  The story line reminds us of the search for justice and sometimes simply vengeance in the aftermath of liberating prisoners from concentration camps at the end of World War II or after the discovery of mass graves in the killing fields of Cambodia.  Was every Nazi and Khmer Rouge soldier equally guilty of mass murder?  Not at all.  Those that commanded innocents to be killed along with those that directly carried out the orders bear much responsibility for heinous acts. However, those that were present but did not object bear less responsibility.  Objection or subversion would likely have resulted in severe punishment for the objector.  Objecting might be heroic, but since it wouldn’t likely save any lives, we might also consider it as much foolhardy as praiseworthy.  At the episode’s conclusion, Kira no longer stereotypes all Cardassians as equally guilty.  Yet we are reminded that hate and bigotry are a disease much more prevalent than Kalla-Nohra.  As Marritza is about to leave the space station, a Bajoran—who himself has had run ins with the law— steps up and stabs Marritza to death.  Kira exlaims “Why? He wasn’t Dar’heel! Why?”, to which the killer responds “He’s a Cardassian! That’s reason enough!”  With Kira we realize that no, one’s race or skin color or gender is not enough to justify ill treatment.

Conclusion

Science Fiction may sometimes seem ambivalent to faith and sometimes seem even anti-religious.  However, Christians can find glimpses of the deeper truths and the fundamental reality of the universe around us.  Knowing that our world belongs to God and knowing that the observable universe is his creation gives us comfort and calls us to service.

Even in Final Frontier, after unmasking the fake god, Kirk philosophizes that while God might not exist in physical form in space, that does not preclude his existence.  Of course Christians realize that God is a spirit, but God the Son also took on physical form and flesh.  We thus have in Christ one who is “true God in order to conquer death by his power, and truly human that he might die for us in the weakness of his flesh.” (Belgic Confession, Article 19). 

Amongst the flurry of facts and conjecture, another thread of the story emerges:  the technology of violence.  We are learning more about the apparent construction of the bombs.  Likewise we are coming to understand how easily ricin can be produced.  This is not unusual.  In almost every story of terrorism or mass-murder in the last century, technology quickly emerges as the tool of the killer.  This is not coincidental.  Humans have always used tools to pursue their goals more effectively.  Our technology extends our reach and expands our power.  Too often, humanity is not prepared to wield that power.  Too often we are careless.  Almost any technology can be dangerous.  Certain technologies are particularly prone to harm and thus particularly dangerous in the wrong hands. 

There is no easy response to senseless violence.  How do we identify who has the “wrong hands”?  It is not simply the criminal or deranged mind that can make indiscriminate use of weapons—the normally rational, law-abiding citizen can also become volatile when infuriated.  Even if we can make a reasonable identification, which technologies should be kept from those hands?  Some devices are designed to be weapons for mass killings.  This is why we zealously hide the design details of nuclear weapons and work against nuclear proliferation.  Other weapons are not as devastating and because they are less restricted, they are more easily obtained.  Even a tool not normally considered hostile, such as a hammer, can be a murder weapon in the hands of a killer.  Even if we can reasonably categorize the technological tools most prone to ill use and if we can also reasonably categorize the individuals who should not have access to them, how do we prevent that access?  Laws generally respected by law-abiding citizens may serve as only a weak deterrent to criminal behavior, depending on the perceived risk of getting caught and the attendant punishment.  Restricting supply can be difficult when the technology is easily produced.  Restrictions often have the unfortunate side effect of placing hurdles to legitimate uses of the same tool by upright users.

Should we give up in despair?  No, we must muddle through.  The answers won’t be clean nor simple.  We’ll need to balance multiple interests.  We’ll need to seek justice.  We’ll need to offer mercy.  We cannot simply eradicate technology.  It is too pervasive.  Pervasive because technology is part of who we are.  Humans are tool-makers.  We are creative developers.  Careful design of technology can help reduce accidents, e.g., safety locks on guns.  Some technologies can help detect illicit activities, e.g., metal detectors at airports or use of seismographs to detect illegal nuclear tests.  Not perfect, but perhaps that is the best we can do.  We cannot simply eradicate evil.  Evil is not in certain hearts alone, so that we can segregate the malevolent from the merciful.  Laws may be less effective than we hope, yet imperfect laws will provide some help.  Addressing the root causes of poverty, injustice, and bigotry may go some distance to preventing hate and hostility.  As far as we are able, let us pursue these preventative measures.  Not perfect, but perhaps that is the best we can do.  Evil lurks in every heart.  That’s not how we were created, but sin now taints us.  Only by God’s grace do we endure, only by Christ’s blood are we redeemed.  Lord have mercy.  Kyrie eleison. 

Remote presence, telecommuting, virtual meetings, virtual offices—these are the technologies that define the futuristic work space.  Online communication has not only crept into our places of employment, but also found its way into the interactions of our families, our schools, and even romantic relationships. 

Work Online

Marissa Mayer, the CEO of Yahoo (and formerly a high ranking executive at Google) recently made waves in the business world by revoking Yahoo’s policy that allowed employees to work from home.  Best Buy made a similar move, eliminating their vaunted Results Only Work Environment (ROVE) program.  Both companies have been on the decline for a few years, with new management looking for ways to quickly turn them around.  Is this a sign that telecommuting has failed?  Despite all the hype about social networking, is remote, always-connected access mainly a boon for our personal lives, but a bust for business?  What about online education?  If these businesses believe physical presence is necessary for productive work, does that imply distance learning doesn’t work?

At DornerWorks, an engineering services company where I am a partner, the company policy only permits working from home by special permission.  The normal expectation is to be at the office in person, although we provide quite a bit of flexibility with the actual hours.  Some folks start later in the morning and work late.  Others start early and leave early.  Others work longer one day in order to free up some time for personal errands on another day.  We’ve found that in cases where an employee does work at home, productivity can vary quite a bit.  If they are home because of a sick child or a snow day for all their kids, then productivity might be fairly low (likely because of distractions at home).  However, sometimes their remote productivity can be quite high.  Instead of lots of formal and impromptu meetings along with interrupts and distractions, they can focus on their work in a quiet space within their own home.  Our open floor plan for most of the workstations of our engineers is meant to encourage interaction and teamwork, but it also sometimes serves to break one’s concentration, making it difficult to focus on a single stream of work on a complex task.  Many of our engineers resort to listening to music with noise-canceling headphones in order to block out the noise and conversations around them.  Even though the executive managers have their own offices, even they sometimes find it necessary to go across the street to the local coffee shop when working on a large task, literally hiding out to avoid a constant stream of interruptions.

If tech companies have not entirely jumped on the telecommuting bandwagon, does that mean virtual communication is not effective?  No, even if telecommuting isn’t embraced, big companies like Yahoo or small companies like DornerWorks still use many electronic means to do business, including web/video conferencing, email, and more.  Even if telecommuting is not the norm, it can provide temporary flexibility so that work does not preclude family life.  “These technologies [videoconferencing] are making inroads, and allowing easier integration of work and family life.  According to the Women’s Business Center, 61% of women business owners use technology to ‘integrate the responsibilities of work and home’; 44% use technology to allow employees ‘to work off-site or to have flexible work schedules’”.  (Anne-Marie Slaughter, “Why Women Still Can’t Have It All,” The Atlantic, July/August 2012, p. 94)

Facebook Family

In former days, families that were dispersed across the country or across the globe could maintain family ties via written letters or the occasional care package that might take days or weeks to arrive.  Later, wide availability of telephone service augmented the written letter, providing live communication, albeit limited to a relatively poor-quality audio connection.  More recently, those communication technologies have been augmented and sometimes completely replaced by Internet-based tools including email, instant messaging, social networks such as Facebook or Twitter, and video conferencing such as Skype or Google+ hangouts.  These tech gadgets help parents stay in touch with children studying or working in distant locations.  They help spouses connect when one is away on a business trip or called to active duty in the military.  They help siblings catch up on each other’s lives when living in different states. 

The content of the communication is affected by the tools we use, as McLuhan famously quipped, “the medium is the message.”  The length of the message impacts what we say and how we say it.  The available communication channels influence heavily interpretation and nuance.  You might hear irony in their voice, even if the words don’t immediately tip you off.  You might see irritation in their body language, even though their voice sounds calm.  Our use of sideways smiley faces :-) when chatting online are, in part, a recognition of the lack of body language signals in that medium. 

There are certainly some messages that lose much when sent electronically:  a hug of comfort, the good-natured slap on the back for good work, the fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies or freshly picked flowers delivered in person as a token of apology.  On the other hand, sometimes a new medium provides a new opportunity.  “I have so many stories of people reflecting on the ways technology gave their parents voices they didn’t know they had.  I remember years ago, people—mostly 20-,30-, and even 40-somethings—reflecting on the fact that when e-mail and text-messaging came along, they suddenly heard their father in a way he’d never been before.  It gave a generation of taciturn men a way to have affective relationships across their families.  I still hear that about the way people are connecting on Facebook.”  (Genevieve Bell, Director of Interaction and Experience Research for Intel Corporation, in an interview with Alexis Marigal in “What Makes Her Click,” The Atlantic, December 2012, p. 42.)

Distance Education

I have blogged previously on online learning in Mediated Communication” .  Let me simply add here that the desire of Yahoo management to bringing employees into the office for better engagement is not much different from the teacher’s concern to engage students in the classroom.  I think online employment or education probably works best for employees or students that are self-motivated or perhaps incentivized to be engaged.  The less inspired, self-starting, and mature they are, the less likely the online experience will be productive and the more likely they will be distracted—and distractions abound when one is using online tools. Sitting captive in a classroom is no guarantee that a student isn’t checking Facebook on the sly or reading a pulp novel tucked in front of the class textbook.  However, the environment matters.  The supposedly “multitasking” learner who not only has an online lecture streaming in one window, but also has Facebook, iTunes, gmail, Twitter, and YouTube all tiled across their laptop screen will no doubt have trouble focusing on just the lecture. 

I don’t see online education completely replacing live classroom instruction in the near future, but I do see it augmenting and enhancing education, just as the telephone didn’t completely replace the written letter, and just as Facebook didn’t completely replace the telephone.  That’s what technology does.  It augments.  It is a tool that extends our abilities.  It is the hammer that extends the reach and power of our arm.  It is the telescope that extends our sight.  It is the automobile that enhances our speed.  One of those educational enhancements is to give a new voice to those that have been silent:  just as email enlivened the “taciturn” father, so too electronic communication can be the voice of a shy or taciturn student.  “I think professors can help out by including an email option for participation so that introverted students have a way to share their ideas. I know one introverted friend who has been extremely grateful to professors that provide that option because she feels included in the conversation without having to fight other extroverted students to have her voice be heard.” (from an editorial by Ryan Hagerman , “Calvin needs to understand, support introverts,” Chimes Calvin College Student Newspaper, 1 February 2013.  )

Remote Relationships

The easy distractions of all our online tools, which can make online learning challenging, can become literal temptations when it comes to romantic relationships.  The ease with which we flit from one YouTube video to the next can lull us into thinking our real-life relationships are as easily interchangeable.  Dan Slater examines the online dating phenomena in his article “A Million First Dates:  How Online Dating is Threatening Monogamy.” ( The Atlantic, Jan/Feb 2013, pp. 41-46)  He finds that greatly increasing the available choices leads to less satisfaction and less engagement with any single choice. “Gian Gonzaga, [eHarmony’s] relationship psychologist, acknowledges that commitment is at odds with technology.  ‘You could say online dating allows people to get into relationships, learn things, and ultimately make a better selection,” says Gonzaga.  ‘But you could also easily see a world in which online dating leads to people leaving relationship the moment they’re not working—an overall weakening of commitment.’” (p 42)  This is not surprising—it is simply another aspect of the distraction that can plague any aspect of digitized life.  Slater points to Barry Schwartz for an explanation: “a large array of options may diminish the attractiveness of what people actually choose, the reason being that thinking about the attractions of some of the unchosen options detracts from the pleasure derived from the chosen one.” (p. 43)  Furthermore, much of our digitized world is also monetized.  Where capitalism drives the medium, then subtle incentives and disincentives will appear that might not align with the customer’s best interests. “Indeed, the profit models of many online-dating sites are at cross-purposes with clients who are trying to develop long-term commitments.  A permanently paired-off dater, after all, means a lost revenue stream.”  (p. 42) 

Spiritual Connections

Our spiritual connections to God are in some ways similar to our virtual connections in the digitized world.  We have limited mediums, not because our God is limited, but because we ourselves are finite.  God speaks in an audible voice or appears in visible form very rarely to very few.  However, he speaks to all us through his Word, communicates to all of us through the body of believers in the community of the saints, exhorts all of us through the preaching of the gospel.  Our communication links to God are equally varied.  Instant messages are carried by our prayers, video conferences are through the sights and sounds of a heart-felt worship service, tweets are found in our personal journals.  God hears and sees them all and he doesn’t miss any of the nuances, since he knows our heart.  While acquaintances might misinterpret humor in an email because they don’t know us well, and even close friends might not always understand us even in intimate, live conversation, God knows us better than we even know ourselves.  “In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans.” (Romans 8:26, NIV)

“Bless the Lord, O my Soul”  … Quickly, where is that passage found? 

It was Wednesday evening.  Our praise team was practicing singing “10,000 Reasons,” the song by Matt Redman, in preparation for the Sunday morning service.  Our team leader planned to do a short prayer just before the song and so she wanted to review the passage corresponding to that line from the song.  We all recognized it.  It was on the tip of my tongue!  A psalm?  Yes, certainly.  Which one?  A quick lookup on my smartphone zeroed in on the passage, though it wasn’t quite so immediate, because my Bible app was the New International Version, and the NIV translates that first word as “praise” rather than “bless” so my search didn’t yield any psalms on the first try.  A quick switch to biblegateway.org and a lookup in the King James version yielded Psalm 103 in short order.  I should have known it was Psalm 103, having memorized that passage as a child.  Why had that memory faded so far? 

I wasn’t always so slow to remember a verse.  After finishing 5th grade, I attended a summer camp with my cousin.  The week-long event was sponsored by the church my cousin’s family attended, so along with outdoor activities from hiking to swimming to volleyball, it also included Bible lessons each morning and chapel every evening.  Camp was not for the faint of heart.  We learned how to survive in the woods and how to survive in the ice-cold water of the camp showers.  We ate the unidentifiable chow served in the dining hall and lived to tell about it.  During chapel we sat on long benches constructed from rough hewn wood during even longer meditations constructed from rough hewn personal testimonies of the speaker for the evening.

On the first day of camp, the head counselor announced a memory verse contest.  The student who was able to memorize the most scripture passages from the official contest list would win a monetary prize.  Five dollars might not sound like much today, but to a fifth grader back then, that sounded like a small fortune.  The first passage on the list was Psalm 1.  An entire psalm?  Yes, that was the first hurdle.  But the first psalm is only six verses, and I had already memorized the first couple verses some time previously in Sunday School.  I set to work repeating the first couple verses over and over again, until I had them down pat, then added another verse, repeated the longer string of words over and over, finally getting the entire psalm firmly in my head.  I raced to my cabin’s counselor and the words flew out like water from a firehose, partly from excitement and partly in fear that I might forget if I took too long to recite the scripture passage.  Other students also got through that first Psalm and recited it.  I tackled more and more passages down the list, racing to stay ahead of the competition.  Over the course of the week, I had memorized my way through the entire published contest list (including the first five verses of Psalm 103).  Eventually the counselors had expand the list and assign a few more to me.  When we assembled for the final chapel on Friday, the head counselor pulled out a crisp five-dollar bill and announced that I had won the contest.  I was ecstatic.  I walked up to collect my prize and only when I turned to return to my seat and the whole group applauded did I feel a just a smidgen of pride. 

The following year, I once again attended the camp and on the first day they again announced a Bible memory contest.  This time the prize would be a airplane flight, piloted by one of the church members with a private aircraft pilot’s license.  Here was a prize worth pursuing.  I had never flown before.  The winner would get to see their house, their school—their entire neighborhood from the skies above.  This year the counselors were prepared.  The list of scripture passages was long and varied.  Some of the passages were familiar favorites, while others were obscure little pieces from little known corners of the Bible.  I attacked the list with fervor.  All other camp activities paled in comparison with this pursuit.  Every moment of free time we got, I had my nose in the Word, practicing the next verses on the list.  When we assembled for the final chapel on Friday, once again the head counselor stood up to announce the winner.  I held my breath.  He said a little about the importance of memorizing the Word of God.  He thanked all the students who had participated and memorized so many verses.  I was on the edge of my seat.  My feet were twitching with nervous energy.  Finally he proceeded to announce the winner.  Me.  I was ecstatic!  He handed me a certificate for the plane ride and once again the group applauded.  Later that summer I enjoyed my first plane ride, taking off from the Kent County airport to fly low over Grandville, Michigan and get a bird’s eye view of my house, my church, and my school.

In the weeks and months afterwards, many of those memorized passages faded from my memory.  Now decades later, only a few favorites come easily to my lips.  The sands of memory get smoothed out and fade under the ocean waves of time.  Does technology speed up our forgetting?  While ubiquitous wireless access puts an incredible array of information at our fingertips, are we really smarter?  I can google an answer for you, but does that make me wiser?  I suspect the convenience of the Bible on my iPhone gives me the excuse to memorize less.  However, humans have long used lists, and writing in general, as a tool to help us remember.  Perhaps a Bible app is just another one of those tools.  In the past I have rarely carried a Bible around with me, but now I have it with me daily, in my phone.  Few of us could memorize and retain the entire Bible, so we all need the crutch of the written Word occasionally.  On the other hand, I think it is still a good spiritual discipline to memorize some of scripture, so that God’s Word lives both in our minds and our hearts.

One Sunday morning my family decided to sit downstairs for a change, instead of our normal upstairs spot.  While many of you habitually bring your personal Bible to church, we had lost this habit in depending on those handy Bibles in the rack in the pew.  So here I was sitting downstairs watching the pastor on the video screen as he commenced reading the scripture passage for the day’s sermon.  Wait, I didn’t have a Bible handy!  Sure, I could listen to his reading, but I really preferred to follow along in my own Bible, since I’m more of a visual learner. 

No problem, I could pull the passage up quickly and easily on the Bible app on my smartphone.  It would be even better than reading the print version, since I would be able to compare multiple translations, instantly click through any footnotes to see reference passages, pull up commentary notes, and more.  However, when I pulled out my phone and fired up my Bible app, my wife and teenage son quickly put the kibosh on the entire plan.  They were obviously mortified, so I quietly put my phone away and politely listened to the pastor read the verses for the day. 

After church, I queried my family about the incident.  There were a several reasons for their dismay.  First, it might be distracting to other parishioners to have someone using an electronic device.  True, an electronic reader on a smartphone or tablet device typically has active lighting, so it would catch your eye more easily.  It also may require more manipulation, especially on a small screen device like a smartphone, where you’ll need more swipes to turn the small virtual pages compared to the necessary page turns of the physical book.  Second, it might give the appearance of bragging about one’s possessions.  Perhaps that would be the reality—that using one’s smartphone in church was no different than wearing expensive clothing or gold jewelry to advertise one’s wealth. 

Since that day, I’ve noticed a few other church members using an iPhone, Kindle, or other device to follow along in scripture, so perhaps I’ll try again at some point.  In any case, I am now a bit more thoughtful about how I use my gadgets.  As an engineer, I’d like to think I only use the most effective, efficient tool for the job.  However, that’s not always my entire reason for buying a technological product, whether I admit it or not.  I must be careful to avoid the pride of possessions or the gluttony of rampant materialism.  I must show care for my fellow believer down the aisle.  I must consider stewardship—both of my finances and of our natural resources.  In short, I must honor God in all I do and all I own.

Etymological bunny trail:  By the way, did you know that “kibosh” has a long history going back at least to an 1836 Dickens short story, but appearing in some newspapers and court proceedings even earlier.  There does not appear to be strong consensus about what or who a “kibosh” might have been or why it came to mean putting an end to something.

When our children were young, it was not unusual during the days and weeks after Christmas to find a Christmas present already broken and discarded.  It started out life beloved and cherished right out of the gift wrapping.  The doll joined a tea party.  The Hot Wheels car joined a parade and then a race.  The new watch went on the wrist for the rest of the week.  Some toys came back for repair within minutes, while others lasted days.  A few sturdy stalwarts lasted long enough to be handed down to a sibling.  Why weren’t all the toys made that sturdy?  Why were some made of flimsy materials that easily broke in the hands of an industrious four-year old child? 

Toy designers and manufacturers do have a choice.  They could make better toys.  Why don’t they?  Because we consumers so often choose lower price over higher quality.  Imagine a toy seller who produces two models of the same toy.  The first model is made of the inexpensive materials, with little attention to durability.  Costs are reduced further by slimming down the thickness of each part and minimizing the number of fasteners by using an inexpensive sealing process.  This makes the toy not only more frangible, but also less repairable.  The second model is made to last, with high quality materials.  The designer pays attention to likely wear patterns and beefs up the parts where weakness might otherwise lead to breakage.  More expensive fasteners are used so that the toy can be repaired, should any problems occur.  From the outside, the two toys appear quite similar.  A Christmas shopper in a hurry probably couldn’t spot the higher quality of the second toy without close examination.  The only clear difference is the price, which is almost three times more for the second model than the first.  Towards the end of the shopping season, the first model has sold out, yet stacks of the second remain.  Why don’t they make toys better?  It isn’t some insidious toy conspiracy.  It is because we ourselves won’t pay for the higher quality.  You get what you pay for.  We choose to pay little, so we get little.

The forced choice in making a toy is not unusual.  Trade-offs are implicit in most engineering designs, requiring a balance between multiple goals that each appear to be good. yet more of the one requires less of the other.  Balancing cost and quality is just one example.  We trade-off weight (and indirectly safety) with high gas mileage in automobiles.  We trade-off time to market with thoroughness of clinical testing for new pharmaceutical drugs.  We must often prioritize the competing goods of aesthetics, performance, reliability, safety, recyclability, and more.  I once asked my students in an engineering class about the difference in the rigor one should use in designing electronics for an MP3 portable music player when compared to designing a medical instrument to monitor an infant’s vital signs.  At the one extreme, some students indicated there should be no difference.  They thought that Christians should do our best and produce the most excellent and safe designs regardless of the intended use.  This position, advocating for an equal attention to all designs regardless of intended use, has some scriptural support.  Colossians 3:23 tells us “Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men.”  No matter where we find ourselves, every occupation is worthy of our best efforts as an offering to the Lord.  At the other extreme, some students indicated that the infant monitor should be designed with the utmost care and much more attention, compared to the music player.  This position, advocating for more care when the intended use is more critical, also has some scriptural support. Philippians 4:8 tells us “Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.” 

Can you ever go overboard on safety?  Is there ever an acceptable risk?  I believe so.  Consider two examples.  First, look at the common nail hammer.  It is designed to pound nails into wood.  This purpose leads to a design with a hard striking surface, a relatively heavy weight to provide momentum when the striking surface is swung, and a long handle to harness the centrifugal force of that swing into a powerful impact on the head of the nail.  The design is appropriate to the need.  The design is also deadly.  That same powerful impact on the head of a person will kill.  We could alleviate that risk by reducing the weight of the head, softening the striking surface,  shortening the handle to reduce the swinging force, and so forth.  The resulting pillow on a stub stick would no longer be able to kill, but it wouldn’t be able to pound nails either.  Second, look at making your car safer by adding steel plating to protect you during a crash.  However, plating makes the car heavier, so gas mileage plummets.  Plating in place of fragile windows would be even more protective, but then you wouldn’t be able to see out very well, making driving less aesthetic and probably more accident-prone.  If we add even more plating to make it even more safe, the car may not fit in the lane anymore, nor fit in your garage.  That extra plating will cost you—so much that we might price the car out of reach of most budgets. 

Good designs are thus a balance of competing goods.  If the balance is distorted, favoring one goal to the exclusion of all others, the resulting product is usually dysfunctional, because proper function depends on meeting multiple goals simultaneously.  Not only are products the result of a trade-off, but the engineering design process itself is also a trade-off.  The old saw “Better, faster, cheaper—pick any two” is a reflection of the balance between the scope, schedule, and cost of a project.  Does this mean that one must always accept less of one goal in order to achieve more of another?  Not necessarily.  Sometimes we find a clever new way to achieve both lower cost and higher quality, e.g., by reducing waste.  Sometimes we find an innovation that lets us achieve both environmental stewardship and corporate profit, e.g., by reuse and recycling.  Sometimes we find a way to make a part both lighter and stronger, e.g., by using composite materials.  I think such combinations are particularly excellent and praiseworthy.

About that same time I started reading science fiction, a pastime that would become a lifelong appreciation for the genre.  I read every single science fiction book the Grandville, Michigan library had to offer (Dune, by Frank Herbert, was one of my early favorites). I bought more books at garage sales.  I borrowed more from friends.  I signed up for a mail-order book club that offered a special deal on a bonanza of books when you joined, adding dozens more books to my collection like Isaac Asimov’s Foundation series.  My enjoyment of science fiction was not limited to the written word, but spilled over to television and the cinema, where Star Trek and Star Wars quickly became favorites.

The thing about science fiction is that it doesn’t always stay fiction.  The fantastical babies grown in jars and the abhorrent eugenically-produced societal castes of Huxleys’ Brave New World were imaginative stories of technology.  However, only a few generations after his 1931 novel, those technologies became reality.  The first test tube baby was born in 1978, the first genetically modified crop appeared in 1982, and Dolly, the first cloned mammal, was born in 1996.  I found another imaginative story around futuristic technology in the story of Steve Austin, the eponymous main character of the 1970’s television show “The Six Million Dollar Man”.  Just a couple decades later, the technology of bionic limbs has become reality in the incredible robotic prosthetics that provide delicate control and feedback to amputees. 

Perhaps the most interesting science fiction technologies are machines that think.  Human-looking robots that also act human are no strangers to the silver screen of science fiction.  The replicants of Blade Runner and the android Lt. Cmdr. Data of Star Trek: The Next Generation are just two examples.  Have those imaginative stories become reality?  Not yet.  There are certainly fast computational devices with large databases of information, such as IBM’s Watson, which beat two human Jeopardy! champions recently.  Can Watson really think?  I think not.  Could a machine ever think?  Possibly. 

Machines that could think could also be machines that are dangerous.  Asimov considered that possibility in many of his science fiction stories and thus formed his famous three laws of robotics:

1. A robot may not injure a human nor through inaction allow a human to come to harm.
2. A robot must obey orders from humans, except if they conflict with the First Law.
3. A robot must protect itself as long it does not conflict with the First or Second Law.

These laws seem to be reasonable protections for humans, but I see an interesting contradiction.  If even sophisticated robots are simply deterministic automatons, then it seems odd to bother with the last law.  Why grant self-preservation to a machine?  I suppose such a law might be simply reflect the interests of the robot’s owner in protecting valuable property.  But that third law could also imply that the robot might really be thinking and not simply following a computational recipe.  If we believe that we ourselves are really thinking, and not simply following a deterministic genetic and biological recipe, then we might grant some measure of self-protection to a thinking robot as well.  But if we think the robot thinks, then the second law seems rather like slavery.  I don’t think we can have it both ways:  a convenient mechanistic slave to obey my every command but also smart enough to interpret the world around it and creatively respond to the nuances and complexities of real world situations.  If I own a human-looking robot that is smart enough to also act human, may I hurt it?  May I torture it?  What does that say about the status of the robot?  More importantly, what does that say about my own humanity?

Perhaps as a way to avoid any uncomfortable questions, we might simply define humans carefully so that such human-like machines are obviously not in the club, so that we might treat them how I wish.  However, I am hesitant to draw lines around human-like androids, thus naming them simply machines with no obligations attached and no attendant responsibilities to worry me.  Why does it worry me?  As machines become more human-like, I wouldn’t want to be so stingy in defining what it means to be human that my rubric not only disenfranchises the machine but also boxes out the most vulnerable of humans, allowing us to treat them carelessly too, such as the unborn child, the accident victim lying in a coma, the student with a learning disability, the poor, or the terminally ill.  God calls his people to protect the weak, as a matter of justice.  God calls his people to be generous to the vulnerable, as a matter of mercy.  God calls his people to guard against pride that causes us to treat others shabbily, as a matter of humility. 

Postmodern deconstructionists argue that we really can never understand each other because our words are so individualized and contextualized that we each construct our own meaning which has little or nothing to do with the speaker’s intent.  So I have often wondered why they bother to tell us this, since their central argument is that we won’t understand them.  The anti-technology crowd claims we must avoid technology if we hope to save our cultural souls.  So I have often wondered why they use technology to write and disseminate their arguments.  When I heard Postman speak at Calvin just a few years before he published Technopoly, I noticed that he traveled to this speaking engagement in a commercial jet aircraft, traveled from the airport to the college in an automobile, amplified his voice with a microphone so that the large audience could hear him,, and wore clothing made from heavily engineered textiles.  Similarly, the educators at my conference were against technology, yet they admitted to using all kinds of technology, such as chalk and chalkboard to write words for their students, electric lights so the students could see them, heat and cooling technology to produce a temperate indoor environment, Google searching for their papers, and more.  The anti-technologist argument is seriously undermined if the preacher does not practice what he preaches, but instead continues to enjoy the benefits. 

The educator’s fear of technology is not new.  Educators of the previous century worried that with the advent of film and television, student learning would suffer and, more personally, worried that they would be replaced by the new technology.  Even the ancient philosopher Plato worried that the new technology of books would ruin our memory.  Yet our society has not succumbed to a heedless obedience to technology.  Philosophers such as Ellul as well as Martin Heidegger claim that technology is autonomous, with its own goals and with the power and agency to induce changes in society.  Yet our society has not become the mindless marionette that dances to the gestures of technology. 

When we see evil in the world, it is easy to blame technology. But technology has no agency, it is not an actor.  It is our instrument to do our bidding.  Christians can point to a simpler explanation for the evil in the world:  sin.  The effects of sin are far-reaching:  not only does sin warp the intent of the technology user so that the instrument is directed to corrupt ends, but it also warps the technology itself, so that the instrument is biased towards the will of its maker in ways that encourage corrupt uses.  Blaming technology itself is to blame the symptom rather than the disease.  Recommending treatments based on this misdiagnosis will thus not cure the root cause of our ills.  I am not thereby exonerating technology.  We must still be wary of injustice, wrong, and harm that arrive via technology.  However, any corrective action must look beyond the technology itself to the human systems and processes that produced that technology. 

Thus I call for educators worried about online classes to name those fears and then do the hard work of analyzing the system, rather than settling for the easy critique of the technology by itself.  If we claim that online learning is evil (or less drastically, less effective), then let us carefully examine what is lost when the teacher and student are separated geographically and sometimes temporally, yet connected via a digital medium.  One problem that we see when our communication is mediated is that we lose some information important for interpreting meaning.  For example,  you can tell someone is joking in person by the twinkle in their eye or the slight smile on their face.  It is much more difficult to recognize humor in an email that is devoid of all body language.  One could think of non-technical solutions to this problem (use a smiley face to denote a joke in text, or avoid humor) and technical solutions (use a high definition video feed so that we can see that twinkle).  A second problem that we see when our communication is mediated is that separation permits less engagement by the participants.  If I am speaking face-to-face with someone, it is much more difficult for them to ignore me.  My physical presence demands their engagement and holds them accountable.  Again, one can think of non-technical solutions (such as frequent prompting that requires response to ensure engagement) and technical solutions (such as attention-tracking video recognition technology to flag when a participant’s engagement is dropping). 

We can learn something more from this analysis, beyond appropriate use of technology.  We can also see that rich communication requires rich personal relationship.  A teacher that mentors a student one-on-one will be in a better position to encourage learning, challenge assumptions, and hold the student accountable.  Compare that to a teacher who stands before a class of 100 students and thus faces significant communication hurdles that approach those of online communication, since one cannot easily see the students in the back row to determine if they are engaged.  A long-running conversation with a good friend (whether in person or over facebook) will contain keen insights and allow for more personal exchanges that deepen the friendship.  Compare that to a tweet to thousands of twitter followers, which can only contain generic insights and impersonal information.  Compare that to this blog itself, which is primarily one-way communication (with a few much appreciated exceptions when some readers email me back with their thoughts). 

We can learn something further here.  All our communication is mediated.  Our own preconceptions and moods will color our interpretation of any message from others.  The deconstructionist thus have it partly right—we do make our own meaning, though I don’t take this to the extreme that there is no shared understanding.  So in all our communication, even when meant in love, we must take care.  Dietrich Bonhoeffer, in his little book Gemeinsames Leben (Life Together), discusses the importance of Christ as our ultimate mediator, not only between ourselves and God, but also between ourselves and our fellow humans:  “Because Christ stands between me and others, I dare not desire direct fellowship with them.  As only Christ can speak to me in such a way that I may be saved, so others, too, can be saved only by Christ himself.  This means that I must release the other person from every attempt of mine to regulate, coerce, and dominate him with my love.  The other person needs to retain his independence of me; to be loved for what he is, as one for whom Christ became man, died, and rose again, for whom Christ bought forgiveness of sins and eternal life.  Because Christ has long since acted decisively for my brother, before I could begin to act, I must leave him his freedom to be Christ’s; I must meet him only as the person that he already is in Christ’s eyes.  This is the meaning of the proposition that we can meet others only through the mediation of Christ.  Human love constructs its own image of the other person, of what he is and what he should become.  It takes the life of the other person into its own hands.  Spiritual love recognizes the true image of the other person which he has received from Jesus Christ; the image that Jesus Christ himself embodied and would stamp upon all men.” (Dietrich Bonhoeffer, tr. John W. Doberstein, Life Together, Harper Collins, 1954, p. 36).

Christians can get caught up in a Hellenistic way of thinking, conflating a focus on the mind with a focus on the spirit. But our soul is not synonymous with our brain.  Furthermore, we are not purely spirit—we believe in the resurrection of the body, after all, acknowledging that our soul is incomplete without our body.  Thinking about embracing my spouse is not the same as the actual physical act.  Thinking about serving my neighbor is not the same as actually filling their needs through offering physical, bodily aid.  Perhaps the relationship of spirit and body is related to the that of faith and works:  one without the other is dead.  Our faith is dead unless it is lived out in tangible acts that are the fruit of our faith. 

Why is this distinction and balance important for engineers, scientists, and all of us involved in technology either as a career or hobby?  Because technology is the work of our hands as much as of our minds.  It is the physical embodiment of our volition.  It is our will incarnate.  Philosopher Nicholas P. Wolterstorff underlined the importance of equal respect for both mind and body:  “The Protestant Reformation, and, in particular, the Calvinist branch thereof, represents a radical rejection of this scale of values in which the life of the mind is elevated over that of the citizen, in which both modes of life are elevated over ordinary life, and in which the work of our hands is regarded as having no more than instrumental value.“ (Nicholas P. Wolterstorff, “Should the Work of Our Hands Have Standing in the Christian College,” in Keeping Faith: Embracing the Tensions in Christian Higher Education , ed. Ronald A. Wells, Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans, 1996, p. 144.)  Wolterstorff allowed no sacred-secular split: “...it was these [production and reproduction aspects of ordinary life] that the Reformers, for the first time in the history of the West, bestowed with inherent and not just instrumental worth—provided they were done to the glory of God and the good of the commonwealth.”

After praising the ordinary, corporeal work of our hands, Wolterstorff also calls us to responsibility.  It is not sufficient to rest on our laurels of inherent worth.  “One serves God and humanity in one’s daily occupation….But one does not serve God and humanity by going into business and then just playing the received role of businessmen, nor by going into medicine and then just playing the received role of physician, nor by going into the academy and then just playing the received role of the academic.  For those received roles are religiously fallen—not fallen through and through, but nonetheless fallen.  To serve God faithfully and to serve humanity effectively, one has to critique the received role and do what one can to alter the script …. The Reformed Christian will want to step back… to ask what is the purpose of business.” (Wolterstorff, p. 148)

Thus both the technologist and the teacher, both the machinist and the mentalist, both the physician and the philosopher have inherent worth.  All vocations are sacred.  All are callings from God.  As such, they all deserve respect.  As such, they all deserve careful consideration so that they live up to their high calling.

I think there is some Biblical basis for property rights, especially as they relate to our ability to earn a living.  However, those rights also seem to be limited in a number of ways.  For example, the Jubilee laws required that the purchase price of land be in inverse proportion to the number of years until Jubilee, and the land would then revert back to the original family at Jubilee.  Ultimately, God is the owner and we are merely the steward.  I suspect that Old Testament laws related to property are connected with our ability to work, as an expression of the talents and gifts God has given us and also an expression of our care and responsibility—for our family, for our community, for the Creation.  In the ancient agrarian society, land was the basic resource necessary to enable useful work for most inhabitants (though certainly there were traders, metal fabricators, and other specialists who could earn a living by means that were not so directly tied to land).  In the modern information society, rather than land, our coin of the realm is information, knowledge, and education.  Knowledge now enables useful work for many, if not most inhabitants.  Thus the idea that ideas themselves might be property is not so far-fetched.  Rights do not come without responsibilities:  just as in ancient times, it may be appropriate today to limit those rights and balance them with the needs of the community.  Thus I believe a balanced approach may be wise, granting some rights and protection (through patents and copyrights) for a limited time and in limited scope to enable individuals to work productively and earn a living.  The limits should be sufficient to also enable the good of the community, preventing hoarding of important knowledge or gouging of customers beyond what is reasonable. 

Beyond property rights, I would also like to consider another aspect of rights and justice related to ideas.  Justice can also derive from respect and honoring of the person who developed the idea.  If one marvels at the creativity of an innovative invention, if one appreciates the beauty of a graceful sculpture, if one is mesmerized by the elegance of an evocative symphony, then it is right for us to feel gratitude toward the creator.  Isn’t it enough to appreciate the art itself?  I think not.  I can appreciate and enjoy the Martin Luther King, Jr. memorial in Washington D.C. because I respect and admire Dr. King’s legacy.  The artwork can instill gratitude to Dr. King.  The artwork can remind me of the importance of King’s work.  However, I simultaneously respect and admire Lei Yixin, the artist who designed the monument.  It is just that we pay respect and express thanks to the artist.  We do the inventor an injustice if we do not acknowledge their hand in the invention.  We do the artist an injustice if we do not credit them as the source of the art.  Respect of the artist may be their right, even if acknowledgement and gratitude do not necessarily take the form of a monetary exchange.

Respect such as this is paid by acknowledging the artist wherever the art is displayed or performed.  When a creative work builds on the work of others, then at the very least, the artist doing the adapting should extend the courtesy to acknowledge her sources.  Even when there is not such a direct link to previous work, inventors and artists with integrity and modesty will credit those individuals who provided them with inspiration and encouragement. 

Engineers often are the unsung inventors and designers behind a product. Perhaps engineers are too shy or modest.  Modesty is not a bad trait—it can help us avoid undue pride.  Even so I wish more companies would follow the example of Adobe.  If you check the “About” dialog for most of their software products, you get a list of all the people that contributed to the product.  It reminds me of the credits at the end of a movie!  I’d like to appreciate the engineers that invented that latest gadget I purchased, the engineers that designed that excellent bridge I just drove across, and the engineers who designed some of the cross-checking logic to ensure the computer flying the plane is ultra reliable.  Whether they got a patent or not, the intellectual rigor and creativity in their designs is worthy of respect and admiration.  If you are one of those countless engineers, technicians, artists, designers, scientists, architects, or inventors, you can pass along that respect by giving glory to God for giving you the talents that enabled that creativity and the resources to carry out your designs.