Precis: The Human Condition by Hannah Arendt - Miles Roa

Miles Roa

A Clash of Futurisms

Dale Carrico

Precis

In Hannah Arendt’s prologue of “The Human Condition,” published in 1958, she shares a simple request for her readers: “What I propose, therefore, is very simple: it is nothing more than to think what we are doing” (5). She uses two examples of the time to try to understand the turmoil of the human condition in the twentieth century: the conquest of space and the automation of work. In both, she recognizes that technological discoveries are destabilizing historical confidence. She is, of course, trying to understand through these analyses, the distinction between what is and what ought to be, in which there is an ineradicable chasm that technology continues to widen. 

Arendt first addresses the peoples' voracious appetite for the conquest of space, trying to understand the implications of space travel. She provides the shocking response from reporters when astronauts successfully ventured into outer space, quoting the events as a “step toward escape from [the people]’s imprisonment to the earth” and claiming “[hu]mankind will not remain bound to the earth forever” (1). She distinguishes this scientific and technological accomplishment as a new stage of secularization in which technology is freeing humans from their sufferings rather than God. She interprets this repudiation of the earth as the mother of all living creatures as Christians rejecting the idea that the tribulations of life are only to be left behind when one leaves earth for heaven. Christians “have looked upon their body as a prison of mind as soul, nobody in the history of [hu]mankind has ever conceived of the earth as a prison” (2). She interprets the future individual as rejecting the earth all together, wishing to exchange the free gift of life for something technology and their predecessors have provided. Powerfully, she states, “We, who are earthbound creatures that have begun to act as though we were dwellers of the universe” (3). This directly questions whether or not humankind ought to progress in space exploration in regards to how humankind is and how they currently define themselves.

Arendt also addresses the automation of work as a similar technological progression that will free the people, not from their imprisonment on earth, but from the chains of labor and the bondage of necessity. Just as peoples' ties to the earth are essential to the human condition, “providing human beings with a habitat in which they can move and breathe without effort and without artifice,” labor is a fundamental aspect of the human condition, rebelled against since ancient times (2). But being freed from labor equals being stripped of meaning. “What we are confronted with is the prospect of a society of laborers without labor, that is, without the only activity left to them.” By addressing this, Arendt posited whether or not labor ought to be automated, creating a labor-less society that would eliminate class and aristocracy of any kind, leaving only solitary individuals to carry the burden of maintaining systems and infrastructure without the prospect of making a living.

Further questioning the progression of space exploration and automated work, she addresses the power of speech in politics. In the development of these technologies that aim to free the people of their earthly prison and burden of work, speech is being rendered meaningless.
Arendt clarifies, “For the sciences today have been forced to adopt a language of mathematical symbols which[…] now contains statements that in no way can be translated back into speech” (4). Cultural attitudes continually adjust as technologies develop, forcing society to accept that they have been rendered speechless, eradicating the ability to participate in ontological conversations. The conversations are now based in scientific and technological discoveries, making citizens non-political beings. Meaningfulness is lost, as it comes from the ability to talk with and make sense to each other and to ourselves. Meaninglessness threatens to become the natural state of being in the age of the conquest of space and the automation of work.

There is no amount of information that can be used to direct what ought to be done in respect to what is. She encourages her readers to truly contemplate the implications of widening the technology-driven chasm of what is and what ought to be, as well as who should be adorned with the power of choice: “The question is only whether we wish to use our new scientific and technical knowledge in this direction, and this question cannot be decided by scientific means; it is a political question of the first order and therefore can hardly be left to the decision of professional scientists or professional politicians” (3). Arendt understands that no technology or infrastructure could provide the answer to whether or not society should utilize a certain technology. Society invests in experts to make political decisions for the people as a whole, but often these experts in which the people invest are the creators of the technology itself. As these technologies become more and more advanced, only the experts are able to grasp an understanding of its implications. This empowers the creators of the technologies with the license to make the choice of whether to use it or not. The experts believe that if they just have enough understanding of what is, they can provide the decision on what ought to be, in turn, creating more and more technologies in which implications of its use must be deciphered. She states, “If it should turn out to be true that knowledge and thought have parted company for good, then we would indeed become the helpless slaves, not so much of our machines as of our know-how, thoughtless creatures at the mercy of every gadget which is technically possible, no matter how murderous it is” (3). Arendt rightfully believes that no technology or infrastructure should be supported by any society before the society shows the knowledge of its implications.

Bibliography

Arendt, Hannah. The Human Condition. Chicago, Ill: University of Chicago Press, 1969. Print.