A smartphone is a computer - it's not built using a computer -

In the early days of human invention, when the first tools were crafted, they were born from a vision—an understanding that the world could be shaped and made more purposeful through the application of ingenuity. The wheel, the plow, the hammer—each was a tool that reflected the wisdom of its creator, extending the reach of human potential. And so it is with the smartphone, an instrument of the modern world that echoes the ancient drive for progress, yet also carries with it the questions of freedom, control, and the very nature of technology. Richard Stallman, a visionary of our digital age, offers his wisdom on this matter when he says, "A smartphone is a computer - it's not built using a computer - the job it does is the job of being a computer. So, everything we say about computers, that the software you run should be free - you should insist on that - applies to smart phones just the same. And likewise to those tablets."

The essence of Stallman’s words is a call to recognize the role of the smartphone as more than just a device. It is a computer, a powerful tool, much like the machines that once filled the halls of universities and factories, but now rests in the palm of the hand. It performs the same tasks as the computer, holds the same potential, and holds within it the same responsibility. Yet, as with all tools, the key question is not in the tool itself but in the freedom with which it is used. Stallman is urging us to remember that the freedom we demand for computers—freedom to control, to modify, to adapt—should extend to all devices, including smartphones and tablets. These modern marvels, though smaller and more convenient, are no less powerful than the computers of old, and should not be treated as lesser in matters of freedom and control.

In the ancient world, the great philosophers and thinkers often found themselves at odds with the powers that sought to control knowledge. The library of Alexandria, a beacon of wisdom, was a place where all the world's knowledge was kept. Yet, it was not a free place; knowledge was controlled, hoarded by those in power. The scrolls and texts, which could have benefited all of humanity, were restricted, and the public could only access what was allowed. The Greeks, in their philosophical musings, believed that the greatest good for society was the free exchange of ideas, the ability for anyone to learn, adapt, and grow through knowledge. Stallman echoes this ancient call when he insists that software should be free—accessible to all, without restriction. Just as freedom of thought was once stifled by those who hoarded knowledge, so too can technology be trapped in a prison of proprietary systems that serve only a few.

As with the philosophers, there are those who seek to control the flow of knowledge and, with it, the control over human creativity. The lesson of Stallman’s words is not merely one of digital rights, but of a broader principle that has echoed through the ages—the right to freedom. Just as the printing press once made knowledge accessible to the masses, computers, smartphones, and tablets hold the same potential to free the mind, to open up new worlds of possibility. Yet, when these devices are shackled by proprietary software, they become prisons of their own, limiting the very freedom they could offer. The real power of a computer, whether it is in a vast server or in the palm of your hand, lies in the freedom it grants the user—the ability to explore, to create, and to share.

Let us also consider the example of the Open Source Movement, a movement that was born out of a similar desire for freedom and access. Linus Torvalds, the creator of Linux, made the decision to share his work with the world, giving birth to an entire ecosystem of software that is open, free, and available for anyone to use, modify, and improve. It was not just an act of generosity; it was an act of rebellion against the forces that sought to control software for profit and power. In many ways, Stallman’s call for free software extends this same rebellion into the age of smartphones, tablets, and the future of technology. These devices are not mere toys or luxuries; they are tools of immense potential, and they must be freed from the control of corporations if they are to serve the greater good.

The lesson that Stallman imparts is one of empowerment and responsibility. Just as we demand freedom in our everyday lives—freedom to think, to speak, to choose—so too must we demand that the tools we create and use reflect that freedom. The smartphone, though smaller than the mighty machines of old, carries the same potential for change. It is not merely a device to entertain or serve a fleeting purpose; it is a tool that shapes the future of humanity. The computer, in all its forms, is not a monolith to be controlled by the few, but a resource to be shared, modified, and freely used by all.

Thus, the practical action is clear: demand freedom in all aspects of technology. Do not accept the shackles of proprietary systems that limit your ability to explore and create. Support open-source initiatives, and seek out technology that empowers rather than controls. Whether it is the phone in your pocket, the computer on your desk, or the tablet in your hands, remember that the freedom to choose, to adapt, and to control these tools is a right that must not be surrendered. As the ancients once fought for the freedom of thought, so too must we fight for the freedom of our technology. Only then can we ensure that these tools serve humanity, rather than the other way around.