"Borgmann’s Machine” is a benign attempt to interpret the philosophical writings of Albert Borgmann. His view and published works about technology are insightful, straight-forward, and many.  My distilled perspective of the subject can be condensed into a single statement with caveat:  That the more technology progresses, the more the machinery of a device becomes concealed or shrinks. And as the device becomes concealed, people will become ever more detached from these things.

The piece is comprised of two elements from a brass-era car. What appears to be a musical instrument is the horn. The driver squeezed a rubber bulb that pushed air over metal reeds inside the tubing. The resulting “honk” was a literal warning for people to get out of the way.  The gear was also a visible part of the machine. It synchronized various moving parts of the engine which in turn propelled the horseless carriage.  Removed from context they no longer function with their original intent. Yet if you force air through the horn it honks. Place the gear on a shaft and it turns. Two simple machines, still connected and part of the whole, but without any contemporary purpose.

This lack of a visible or comprehendible relationship between the exterior parts of a machine, its inner workings, and what it actually does has become less important in post-modern society.  No longer does it matter for us to understand what something is or how it functions, just as long as it is works. And when the machine fails we simply replace it with the latest, most modern version available.  In today's world form really has won over function as technology shrinks the amount of space that is required by the machine to operate. Ironically, this reduction in size has actually increased the complexity of the machine's inner workings while simultaneously diminishing our desire to understand how it functions.

Borgmann deliciously illustrates his concept of concealment by way of examining the contents of “whipped cream”.  The store bought version doesn't contain anything close to what grandmother served. Instead of cream and sugar, consumers are sold a commodity made from ingredients that only a chemist could love. Yet the product taste like whipped cream, has a longer shelf life, and cost much less than the real thing. Because of diminished personal engagement, the invisible technological process that results in the dairy treat is of no concern. We care only about the taste and price.   We even go great lengths to hide the machines that store these  commodities of consumption.  Walk into a newly remodeling kitchen and you will see the process of concealment taken a step further as appliances are placed out of view behind the lush veneer of artificial wood cabinets.

Now understand that I am not adverse to placing things out of sight, it’s the other half of that phrase that concerns me. I fear we are about the business of veiling not just machines over which we have dominion, I suspect we are also about the business of attempting to conceal the inner workings of a machine which has dominion over us, Time. Yet more and more each day, as commodities of youth and beauty are purveyed upon a population of ravenous consumers, we are the ones becoming concealed. And when we are in hiding, we deny ourselves knowledge of an ancient process and the master machine's final commodity.

The esoteric argument about which came first, the chicken or the egg, loses its witticism in a technologically driven environment as people sometimes fail to make a connection between the two. Perhaps they no longer comprehend the relationship because in our mostly urban setting, children and adults have fewer connections or opportunities to spend time where such observations can still be codified. Yet out on the farm or in the country, there remains a chance to become acquainted with fundamentals of working agrarian relationships and to enjoy the derivatives of seemingly simple pursuits. Activities such as growing grass, feeding grass to cows, milking cows, separating the cream from the cows’ milk, and the making of fresh Whipped Cream can still be observed, understood, and enjoyed in the first person.

Reflecting upon the “egg or chicken” parody, I remember what Borgmann calls a "focal thing” from one of my childhood visits to the family farm. In a late summer afternoon, the women and children were in the kitchen preparing dinner. In that place and time this meant kneading and baking breads and pies, picking fruits and vegetables from the garden, pumping water into pails and pitchers, and gutting the chicken before frying it in a hot skillet of bacon fat.

In the midst of pots and pans, messy tables, and the numerous family cooks who were crowded into the small kitchen, it was my job to pluck the feathers from the chicken. After a small handful had fallen to the floor I spontaneously asked grandmother, “What’s the difference between a layer and a fryer?" Smiling at her naive grandson she mused, “That’s simple dear, a fryer is a layer that has quit laying.” Now that very morning I had helped her gather eggs and in the afternoon I had “pulled” the head off the chicken I was helping to prepare for dinner. Her answer, offered nonchalantly, has resonated with me ever since.

These many years later often finds me saying a grateful prayer for that plucked chicken as I wonder about our attempts to conceal the sometimes messy but wonderful workings of time. What is it, really, that we are trying to hide from view? Is relevance no longer possible by virtue of simply existing? Must machinery always be hidden from view?  Is one's importance completely dependent upon performance?  If you quit laying are you really gonna end up getting fried?

 

.....“whipped cream”  See Borgmann, A. Power Failure: Christianity in the Culture of Technology (2003) Grand Rapids: Brazos Press.

....a "focal thing”  See Borgmann, A. Technology and the Character of Contemporary Life: A Philosophical Inquiry . (1984) Chicago: The University of Chicago Press.