New technology is useful, but it's inefficient and ugly; it

Hear, O children of the restless age, the biting words of Tom Holt: “New technology is useful, but it’s inefficient and ugly; it knows it’ll be obsolete by lunchtime tomorrow, so it has no incentive to be anything else.” In this statement, both sharp and sorrowful, lies a reflection on the fleeting nature of invention in our time. For what is built today is already rushing toward its own grave, and in that haste, beauty and refinement are often sacrificed upon the altar of speed. Holt reminds us that though technology dazzles with novelty, it too often forgets the eternal virtues of elegance, efficiency, and endurance.

From the dawn of invention, mankind has sought tools not only for utility but also for beauty. The sword of the samurai was not merely sharp; it was a work of art. The temples of Greece were not only shelters, but embodiments of harmony and proportion. Yet in the modern age, where obsolescence is baked into the very design, technology often abandons this heritage. It comes hurriedly into the world, rough and crude, with the knowledge that soon it will be cast aside, replaced by a newer, shinier version. Such is the paradox Holt unveils: the more swiftly things advance, the less they strive to endure.

Consider, O listeners, the tale of the Concorde—the supersonic aircraft that once carried men across the oceans faster than sound. It was powerful, a marvel of engineering, yet it was also flawed: costly, inefficient, and doomed by its inability to adapt to a changing world. Its beauty lay in its ambition, but its obsolescence arrived sooner than its promise. Here we see Holt’s truth: that technology which runs ahead too quickly often burns itself out before it can fully flourish.

So too in smaller things. Think of the gadgets of yesterday—tape players, early computers, bulky mobile phones. Each was once hailed as revolutionary, yet within a short span, they became relics, their shapes awkward, their designs inelegant, their use clumsy compared to what followed. They were ugly and inefficient, yet we tolerated them because we believed they were stepping-stones. And indeed, they were—but Holt warns us not to forget their lesson: progress without stability is a chain of waste, and beauty is too often abandoned for speed.

The meaning of Holt’s words, then, is both critique and counsel. He reminds us that while new technology may excite with its promise, it often lacks the incentive to be lasting. Why perfect a device when its maker knows it will soon be replaced? Why adorn it with beauty when its destiny is the scrapyard? In this lies the tragedy of modern progress: it favors immediacy over permanence, novelty over refinement, and thus denies us the joy of creations that endure.

The lesson is clear: as creators and as users, we must resist the temptation to worship novelty for its own sake. We must demand more of our tools than mere usefulness. Let them be efficient, let them be elegant, let them endure beyond the brief span of fashion. If you are a builder, strive not only for innovation, but for craftsmanship. If you are a consumer, seek not only the newest, but the most lasting. In this way, you align yourself with the ancient lineage of artisans who believed that true work should be both functional and beautiful.

Practical steps lie before you. Do not rush always to replace; honor what still serves. When you create, let patience guide you, crafting with care rather than haste. When you buy, ask not only, “What can this do for me today?” but, “Will this endure tomorrow?” In slowing your hunger for the new, you may rediscover the joy of permanence, and in demanding beauty, you may inspire those who build to aim higher.

Therefore, O heirs of tomorrow, remember Tom Holt’s warning. New technology is useful, but often ugly and inefficient, for it knows it will soon die. Let this not be the destiny of your age. Seek to create what endures, to cherish what lasts, and to find beauty not only in what is new, but in what is timeless. For in this balance lies not only progress, but wisdom, and the chance to build a world that honors both the future and the eternal.