Things vs. Devices: How Technologies Like Cars Shape Us

(Source: Unsplash/Gustavo.)

As one does, I found myself recently coping with an afternoon of errands by popping on a podcast, this one from The War on Cars. Interestingly, they were interviewing Bob Sorokanich, the former deputy editor of Road and Track Magazine and former editor-in-chief of Jalopnik, an online publication dedicated to covering “The Cult of Cars, Racing and Everything That Moves You.” 

After lots of friendly banter, they moved on to more serious topics, including a discussion about the virtues of manual transmission and the unintended consequences of new “improvements” in car design. Sorokanich pointed out how dashboards are perpetually illuminated rather than lighting up only at night and only after the driver has turned on their headlights. As a result, more drivers are forgetting to turn on their headlights. “When I’m out walking the dog, I’m yelling at people to turn their lights on,” Sorokanich confessed. “I’ve become the neighborhood crank.” 

Their conversation highlighted the complex conversation around car innovations that initially may seem to promise an improvement in the driving experience—but is this always the case? Recently, my husband, who teaches a class on ethics of technology, handed me his copy of Technology and the Character of Contemporary Life, by Dr. Albert Borgmann, pointing to chapter nine. It’s not a light read, but pushing through the assigned chapter provided a new framework for thinking about technological improvements, including the ones advertised as “progress” for cars and drivers. 

Borgmann’s framework, which depends on him distinguishing between “things vs. devices,” might be a little heady, but it can help us more clearly articulate additional costs to the presence of cars in our towns and neighborhoods, besides the financial, environmental and safety concerns. Specifically, it can help us articulate how cars (and any technology) shape how we view ourselves, how we relate to technology, and how we perceive our duties to the world and people around us.  

Things vs. Devices

Here’s a quick recap of how Borgmann differentiates a “thing” from a “device.” While they both allow us to achieve certain goals or “ends,” they do so in different ways. With things, we can achieve an end only after participating in a particular world or context, by taking on certain social relationships and by gaining a certain level of skill. A device, on the other hand, leverages technology to “disburden us” from the context, relationships, or skills while still delivering the same ends, often more efficiently and quickly.  Let’s look at these more closely. 

Reshaping Social Contexts

Understanding this component of the “thing vs. device” differentiation first requires realizing that, behind every end product or service is a mechanical process, and also a social world and web of knowledge, skills, and information. Take coffee, for instance. Part of what makes artisanal coffee shops so interesting is not just the yummy brews they deliver, but for the world of coffee harvesting and brewing within which they are situated. 

The coffee shop owner must participate in that world in order to create the final product. And when we order that cup of coffee, we are participating in that world, in the layers of relationships, knowledge-transfer, and creativity that must exist in order for us to have that wonderful latte. Similar things can be said for craft beer, farm-to-table food, artisan-dipped candles and bread made from scratch. Part of their artisanal quality comes from the fact that they are not just ends in themselves, they are entry points and expressions of complex worlds, relationships, and contexts that facilitate their existence. 

According to Borgmann, devices change this by making it easier for us to enjoy the end product without participating in those social worlds, relationships, or transfers of knowledge. We can see this in almost every industry. We no longer need to know the homebuilders building our homes, the shoemakers crafting our shoes, the seamstresses creating our clothes. We live in a world of products, but not of processes. Devices “liberate us” from the social context from which our goods and services emerge. 

Altering Our Role as the User

At one point in the War on Cars episode, the conversation shifted to a more technical comparison of electric and traditional cars and how electrification could mean the eventual loss of cars with manual transmission. A someone who has never driven stick shift, I found it interesting to hear Sarah Goodyear explain why many drivers (herself included) might mourn this change. As a more hands-on approach to driving, she explained, manual transmission shapes the driver in a particular way. Specifically, “it puts you more in touch with what it is that you are doing, it makes you more aware of the car as a physical object in space that can hurt people, that you need to pay attention to, and it keeps your attention more focused.” 

Sorokanich echoed this perspective with his complaint about the new lighting features and how this change in design reduces the driver’s tactile engagement with the car and, in so doing, “messes with your ability to drive responsibly.” These comments perfectly illustrate a point central to Borgmann’s argument: devices change not just how things work or how we receive certain “ends.” They also change what’s asked of us as the user and how we perceive our own moral and ethical responsibility in the world. The less tactile a device becomes, the less knowledge we need to have about how it works, and the less that’s asked of us in terms of labor and engagement, the easier it is to feel detached from any ethical implications of irresponsible use. 

In other words, devices have the potential to change our sense of agency in the world. When accidents or dysfunctions occur, devices make it easier to blame the device itself or, at best, “technological failures.”  

Disrupting Social Relationships 

Finally, what does it mean for devices to disrupt social relationships? In some cases, the devices eradicate the social relationships needed to facilitate the end. Think of DIY cash registers, “customer service” chat bots or “digital kitchens,” where you can accomplish your goal without engaging with another human being. This is extremely evident with the shift from public to private transit. We now no longer need to engage with other people in order to achieve our goal at all. Not just that though; driving also changes the way we relate to the other people around us, often turning other drivers, bikers, and pedestrians into competitors, annoyances, or, at worst, obstacles to be overcome.  

Cars as Devices 

So, how does this help us interpret the presence of cars in our cities and the constant barrage of “improvements” we hear about in car commercials? I think seeing cars as mainly devices can be a challenging shift from the way we’ve been told to think about them, but it provides us with a much more robust framework by which to evaluate their presence in our communities. Not just that, but they pass the “device” litmus test. 

As devices, cars reshape the world around us and how we understand movement. Due to cars, our perception of movement has come to mean speed and convenience. But more importantly, cars have shaped the landscape itself. We can see from the design of our cities how they have become a collection of destinations to reach as speedily and comfortably as possible by car, rather than an ecosystem containing human life, holding a variety of purposes and users. Cities in this view hold places, but they are no longer a place in and of themselves. 

Along the way, the device of the car has also shaped the social fabric of our communities. Each mode of movement brings with it certain social experiences and expectations. By separating us from each other, making eye contact impossible, and privatizing the entire experience, cars teach us (during the act of driving) to orient ourselves to each other in a distant, impersonal, and usually competitive manner.

Finally, seeing cars as devices illuminates the extent to which our role as the user has been, and continues to be, increasingly reduced to a passive role, one that has serious implications for our sense of responsibility by increasing the distance between our actions and the “end” of the device. What happens when a self-driving car hits a child? Is the driver or the technology responsible?

A Holistic Case for Rethinking Cars

Like many Strong Towns readers, I live in a city where I can’t really get around without a car. Our car makes life much easier and convenient, and it isn’t going anywhere anytime soon. I don’t think Borgmann’s goal is to get us to give up devices, but to engage with them more mindfully—and I think the same goes for cars. It’s unlikely we’ll ever get rid of them entirely, but we can use them more mindfully. 

Through this distinction between things and devices, Borgmann provides us with a rich new framework for doing just that. While it’s extremely important to talk about cars’ expensive claims on land, threats to public safety, and environmental costs, it’s also helpful to think about these less visible, less immediate impacts and to consider what mindful use might look like. How can we adopt greater mindfulness of how cars, as devices, might be quietly reshaping our perception of the city, of other people, of our own agency and responsibility? 

---

---

---