Between Spiritual Emptiness and Techno-Religion
Is It Too Late?
Between Spiritual Emptiness and Techno-Religion: Is It Too Late?
In today's technological world, we observe a fascinating yet disturbing phenomenon: the extreme polarization of approaches to technology's role in human life and society. At one pole, we find a complete absence of spiritual dimension—a cold technicism reducing humans to data sets and users. At the other—a kind of techno-utopianism that attributes almost magical powers to technologies, positioning them as solutions to all of humanity's problems. In this divide, are we losing something fundamental? And most importantly—is it already too late to change course?
Two Extreme Poles of Technological Reality
When we examine the dominant narratives about technology, their polarization is striking. On one side, we have a purely materialistic, technocratic approach that completely rejects spiritual and ethical dimensions. In this perspective, only measurable parameters matter: efficiency, optimization, scalability. The human is reduced to a user or dataset, while deeper questions about meaning and values are marginalized as irrelevant.
On the other side emerges a peculiar "techno-utopianism" or even "techno-religion." Web3, blockchain, AI, or the metaverse are presented as solutions that will, by themselves, fix all social problems—from economic inequalities to the crisis of trust to individual alienation. This thinking takes on a quasi-religious character, with its own prophets (visionary CEOs), sacred texts (project white papers), rituals, and promises of salvation in the form of technological utopia.
Both extremes miss a key aspect: technology is a tool created by humans that reflects human values, priorities, and limitations.
Monetization of Everything—When Extremism Becomes a Commodity
The most disturbing aspect of this situation is the monetization of absolutely everything—including ideologies that until recently were universally condemned. The case of "swasticoin"—a cryptocurrency referencing Nazi symbolism that reached hundreds of millions of dollars in market capitalization—shows how speculative mechanisms can be used to normalize and potentially finance the most toxic ideologies.
What's particularly alarming is the detachment of financial speculation from any ethical values. For many traders, what a token represents doesn't matter—only the potential profit counts. This extreme instrumentalization means that even symbols of genocide can become trading objects, like any other "meme coin."
In a world where "voting with your wallet" by purchasing tokens replaces conscious political decisions, a mechanism is created in which people unwittingly support ideologies whose consequences they don't understand. This poses a fundamental threat to democracy.
The Power of Tech Giants vs. the Powerlessness of Regulators
In the face of these threats, can we still count on wise regulation? Examples of pressure from OpenAI and Microsoft on the British government regarding creators' copyright issues show the scale of power imbalance. When we compare the budget of the British music industry (about 8 billion pounds annually) with Microsoft's value (over 100 billion pounds), it's clear we're not talking about a dialogue between equal partners.
This imbalance intensifies when technology corporations act in a coordinated manner, exerting pressure on governments and regulators. In the case of AI and copyright, we can clearly see how creators' interests are marginalized in favor of narratives about "technological progress" and "innovation."
We also increasingly observe how representatives of technological elites, like Elon Musk, openly express views that depreciate values traditionally considered fundamental to society—such as compassion, which gets reduced to a "weakness."
Broken Intergenerational Bonds: Technology Without Elders
A concerning aspect of contemporary technological discourse is its almost complete appropriation by young people. Where have the elders gone? Today's "internet tribes" are often communities where the "oldest sages" are merely 20-30 years old. This is a curious rupture of the intergenerational relay of knowledge and experience.
Of course, gray hair alone doesn't make one wise, and older people make mistakes too. However, it's about the fundamental idea that much can be learned from the experience of elders—including what consequences today's decisions might have decades from now. Contemporary youth largely learn from each other and through AI tools that often don't require critical thinking but rather encourage passive consumption of ready-made answers.
This breaking of the transmission line between older and younger generations, between experience and energy, seems to be civilization shooting itself in the foot. Human history has always relied on intergenerational transmission—it's thanks to this that we don't have to rediscover the same truths and make the same mistakes with each generation.
In the context of technological development, this generational gap is particularly dangerous. Young innovators, deprived of wisdom derived from long life experience, may not see the long-term consequences of their inventions. Meanwhile, older generations, often pushed aside from the technological mainstream discourse, lose the opportunity to enrich it with a perspective that twenty-somethings might lack, even the most brilliant ones.
Is It Already Too Late?
Given the power of technological giants and the progressive financialization of absolutely everything, even the most toxic ideologies, a question arises: is it already too late to change course?
On one hand, the scale of power imbalance and the pace of technological development might suggest the process is irreversible. As machine learning algorithms analyze every aspect of our lives and content tokenization turns every thought into an object of speculation, the space for alternatives shrinks each day.
However, history isn't linear, and systems that seem omnipotent sometimes collapse under their own weight. Currently, we're witnessing growing awareness of the threats associated with uncontrolled technological development. More and more voices are calling for a rethinking of the relationship between technology and society.
Perhaps an effective response will not be fighting against technology, but redesigning it based on deeper humanistic and spiritual values. We need systems that preserve the technical aspects of decentralization while introducing socially agreed "red lines" about what is unacceptable.
In Search of a Third Way
Between the spiritual emptiness of cold technicism and the naive belief in technology's redemptive power, there must exist a third way. A way of reflective, mature perspective that recognizes both technology's potential and its limitations, grounded in the broader context of human values, spiritual needs, and ethical dilemmas.
Such a path should also restore the proper place for intergenerational dialogue. We need spaces where twenty-year-old programmers can collaborate with sixty-year-old philosophers, where youthful innovation meets mature prudence, and technological enthusiasm meets life experience.
Technology doesn't exist in a vacuum—it's part of human experience, which has always had spiritual, ethical, communal, and intergenerational dimensions. Remembering this, we can try to redirect technological development onto tracks that serve the genuine good of humans and society.
Is it already too late? Perhaps for certain aspects, yes. But as long as discussion continues, as long as we ask questions about the boundaries and meaning of technological development, as long as we seek ways to reconnect the broken intergenerational bond, we have a chance to shape a future where technology serves humans, not the other way around.