The old paths still stand. We must mow away the overgrown grass. But the path can hold us. We can hold it. Because I suspect—no, believe—that the more the machine and its technique envelop us, the more we will notice our lack of spiritual sight. And the more our souls will yearn for something more than this restless life.

Everything seems to suppress soul. We live to catalyze efficient products. Our labour is counted, quantified, and measured. Human resource departments view us as human resources. They measure our performance by mechanical standards, and our salary relies on whether or not we have added value to a corporation. Work commodifies humans as resources; it is why HR departments exist. You are coal to be mined.

Education threatens to collapse under the weight of technical totality. We must adapt by integrating new techniques, new AI-powered tools, and, above all, screens. Small matter that all data show that by such techniques our learning outcomes shrivel. Small matter that students lack the basic humane skills of those from even a decade ago.

Machines mash the soul, weakening it, so that our brains might be nimble and acquire much data and information for the sake of employing it for effective ends. Here, effective always means the most profitable one.

An old life is hard to find. Smartphones authenticate our apps. We need apps to bank, to get jobs, to link into our AI-powered tractors, and to partner for contract jobs on the digital marketplace.

Where do we find an old path?

Whose steps can I follow in life?

Can wisdom be wise today?

Should I set aside savings for a home worth three times my annual salary, the mythical home that no longer exists? Should I work at one company and rely on the non-existent pension for my retirement today?

Our world squeezes spirit and manufactures machines. Darkness presses in. Yet light sometimes appears in the strangest of places.

The machine has overplayed its cards. A revolution has begun. New phones no longer have their glimmer. It is all being seen for what it is. Nothing for no end to go nowhere. Granted, we will not emancipate from technology; we should not do so anyway.

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