Life is about family and technology.

The words of Mark Goddard, “Life is about family and technology,” capture the twin pillars upon which much of our modern existence rests. Though at first glance the two may seem distant—family, ancient and eternal, rooted in love and lineage, and technology, ever-changing, racing forward like a river of fire—they are not opposed but intertwined. In his words we hear a reminder that the meaning of life arises when we hold fast to our bonds of kinship while harnessing the tools of progress to sustain, protect, and extend those bonds.

The origin of this truth lies in Goddard’s role as an actor in the era of space-age imagination, when shows like Lost in Space brought visions of humanity’s future into living rooms. In that vision, families were not left behind on Earth, but carried into the cosmos. The message was clear: no matter how advanced technology becomes, it must serve the human heart and the ties of family. For what use are rockets, circuits, and machines if they do not preserve love, connection, and the generations yet to come?

History too provides us with powerful witness. During the Apollo 11 mission, when mankind first set foot on the moon, the astronauts carried not only the pride of a nation but the prayers of their families. Millions watched together on glowing screens, their homes united in wonder. The triumph of technology that brought Neil Armstrong across the void would have been meaningless without the joy of families gathered in living rooms, holding hands, whispering to their children that they were witnessing history. In that moment, family and technology stood side by side, each giving meaning to the other.

We may also recall the invention of the telephone by Alexander Graham Bell. Though it was a marvel of wires and voice, its true glory was not in the invention itself, but in what it allowed: mothers to hear the voices of children far away, lovers to whisper across distance, families to remain united though oceans divided them. Technology becomes holy when it preserves the warmth of family. Without that sacred purpose, it is but cold metal and empty signal.

The meaning of Goddard’s words is therefore both a celebration and a warning. He tells us that life must be balanced: to neglect family in pursuit of technology is to build hollow empires, but to reject technology altogether is to risk the survival of family in an advancing world. The wisdom is in integration—using the gifts of innovation to strengthen love, memory, and togetherness. In this harmony lies the possibility of both progress and belonging.

The lesson is clear: let every tool you wield serve the deeper cause of love. Let your devices not enslave you, but free you to spend more time with those who matter. Use technology to record the stories of your elders, to share the laughter of distant relatives, to guard the health and safety of your children. Do not allow it to distract you from them, but instead let it become a bridge that binds the hearts of your family more firmly together.

Practical action lies close at hand. Dedicate times when your family gathers without distraction, to strengthen the bonds of presence. At the same time, embrace the gifts of technology wisely: call the lonely, share memories across distance, use tools to protect and educate. Strive to live as though every new device must answer a question: How does this help me love my family more? In this way, life becomes what Goddard described: a union of eternal human ties and the advancing wonders of invention.

Thus, remember: life is about family and technology. One gives you roots, the other gives you wings. When they are joined, humanity rises—not merely into the stars, but into a future where love endures, carried forward on the shoulders of progress. May we pass this wisdom down as an inheritance: that in all our striving, we never forget that family is the heart, and technology the hand that serves it.