Computers make it easier to do a lot of things, but most of the

Andy Rooney’s words, “Computers make it easier to do a lot of things, but most of the things they make it easier to do don’t need to be done,” strike at the heart of a profound and timeless truth: technology, while undeniably powerful, often shifts our focus towards actions that are trivial, unnecessary, or even counterproductive. In this simple statement, Rooney offers a reflection on the nature of progress and the human tendency to pursue convenience at the cost of purpose. The computer, that great marvel of human ingenuity, is capable of doing incredible things, but it can also serve as a distraction, pulling us away from what truly matters. This is a lesson that the ancients understood well—efficiency must never come at the expense of meaning.

In the ancient world, those who sought to build great civilizations—philosophers, builders, scientists—understood that progress was not simply about doing more, but about doing better. Aristotle taught that virtue lay not in excess but in moderation, and Seneca warned against the distractions of life that led people to squander their time and energy. In much the same way, Rooney’s insight into the overuse of computers serves as a reminder that the quest for convenience can sometimes lead us down paths that are superficial, focusing on actions that are ultimately unimportant. The ancients knew that the true measure of a life well-lived was not the quantity of tasks completed, but the quality of actions taken.

The internet and computers can help us achieve great feats, just as the printing press revolutionized the sharing of knowledge and the wheel revolutionized travel and trade. However, what these inventions, and their modern counterparts, have also done is make it easier to engage in a constant stream of actions—checking emails, browsing social media, responding to messages—that ultimately have little to do with the deep purpose of life. As technology advances, it often offers us a path of least resistance, encouraging us to act quickly, to do more, but without asking whether the actions are truly meaningful. Just as the ancients cautioned against busywork and unnecessary exertion, so too must we be wary of falling into the trap of endless tasks that do not serve our higher goals.

Consider the example of Leonardo da Vinci, whose countless inventions and sketches were often driven by an insatiable curiosity and a desire to understand the world. Da Vinci’s genius lay not in doing everything possible, but in focusing on what truly mattered—the study of nature, the human form, the art of painting and engineering. His creations, whether the Vitruvian Man or his designs for flying machines, were not born of an impulse to merely do more, but to understand deeply and to create something that would last for generations. In this way, Da Vinci reminds us that technology—whether it be the inventions of his time or the computers of ours—should not simply make it easier to do more; it should help us do the things that matter most, those that contribute to the greater good.

Rooney’s warning about the dangers of excess in technology also resonates with the story of Gutenberg, who invented the printing press and fundamentally changed the way knowledge was shared. Gutenberg’s innovation was not just about making books faster; it was about spreading knowledge to empower people, elevate societies, and change the course of history. However, over time, the proliferation of printed materials led to an overload of information, just as the internet today bombards us with endless data, much of which is fleeting or irrelevant. The true legacy of Gutenberg lies not in the number of books printed, but in the wisdom and purpose with which knowledge was shared. In the same way, the true power of computers lies not in the volume of tasks they make easier, but in their ability to help us focus on the meaningful work that shapes our future.

The lesson here, then, is clear: technology—while an incredible force for progress—must be wielded with purpose and intention. Rooney’s quote serves as a call to reflection in a world that often urges us to do more, to act faster, to engage in tasks that ultimately detract from the more important work of creating, learning, and living. The ancients understood that true progress is not measured by the number of actions we perform, but by the impact those actions have. Just as they valued the pursuit of knowledge, creativity, and wisdom, so too must we remember that the use of technology should serve these higher goals, rather than simply filling the hours with tasks that are ultimately unimportant.

Lesson for the ages:

As we move forward in this age of technological marvels, let us remember that progress is not about the sheer number of actions we take or the tasks we complete. It is about purposeful work, the meaning behind what we do, and the impact our actions have on the world. Just as the ancients warned against the distractions of life, we must be cautious of technology’s ability to lead us down paths of empty productivity, away from the deeper pursuits that define a life well-lived. True success lies in choosing the work that matters most, and using technology as a tool to aid us in these pursuits.

Practical Action:

In your own life, take a moment each day to reflect on how you use technology. Are you using your time and energy on meaningful tasks, or are you falling prey to the easy distractions that technology offers? Just as the ancients valued reflection and deep engagement with the world, seek to use technology to support your higher goals—whether in learning, creativity, or meaningful action. Focus on quality, not quantity, and use technology as a tool to help you accomplish the work that truly matters, rather than simply filling your day with tasks that, in the end, add little value to your life.