11-4-95
I gave in. Having been an adversary of electronic computers for years, I was compelled (for reasons still unknown to me) to acquire one and embark on the adventure of operating it. I won't claim that it isn't indeed a convenience, and it's very likely that in a short time I will no longer be able to do without it. Nevertheless, I will attempt to point out the dangers I perceive it brings, as long as I still have clarity of judgment.
The first danger is the change in the way of thinking. The mind is forced to operate with the machine's pyramidal logic and to categorize its thoughts based on the layered positions of a computer's codes. Thus, conversation with the machine becomes faster and more efficient. However, the fear that such a direction will harm the free and often illogical thought that often gave not just beauty, but also tangible results in art and science, is not unreasonable.
The second danger concerns language. Both the keyboard and the screen make language a mere tool. Working in front of a computer, you realize that tones, breathings, syllabification, and very likely diphthongs and many letters slow down communication, in which the role of language is now diminished. The fear of the Latin alphabet and why not the English language, which everyone agrees fits perfectly with the computer's logic due to its concise abbreviations, is not far off.
The third danger is the perception of time. Speed becomes an end in itself. Do not do something in one way, if it can be done faster in another. But what is that relationship that proves to us the value of time, as perceived by a computer? How much faster must a computer become, and for what purpose the time saving? These questions are more immediate than philosophical. They relate to the content of the free time a computer leaves you, and ultimately to the final goal of time. This infinite offering of time makes its measurement more tragically perceptible.
The fourth danger relates to the overabundance of options. The more choices a person has, the more their anxiety increases and the more difficult the final choice becomes. The graphic extravagance observed nowadays may be due to the immaturity of designers towards the theoretically infinite possibilities of machines. Faced with the hundred fonts that, with the press of a button, computers offer, the operator has no slightest argument for choice. Some even dream of designing new ones, as if those were not sufficient to handle the emptiness of our words.
These dangers are pointed out not to deter us from using computers, but to prevent us from accepting their omnipotence, putting us back on track for a critical (not rejective) view of technological progress. This text was ultimately written on a computer. But only after I had scratched with polytonic on the pages of a notebook, one quiet, bright morning, drinking coffee at a café table.
Plato Rivellis