One thing about computers and iPhones is they're making people

“One thing about computers and iPhones is they're making people mentally lazy.” – José Feliciano

In this simple yet piercing statement, José Feliciano, a man whose music has carried souls across generations, speaks with the voice of a modern sage. His words are not an attack upon technology, but a warning wrapped in truth—a reminder that the tools created to empower humanity can also weaken the mind if used without wisdom. When he says that computers and iPhones are making people mentally lazy, he laments the quiet decay of one of humanity’s greatest gifts: the power of thought, the discipline of focus, the sacred labor of the intellect.

In the ancient world, the philosopher Socrates once feared that the invention of writing would destroy memory. “When men learn to write,” he said, “they will cease to exercise their memory; they will trust to written characters and not remember of themselves.” What Socrates foresaw in parchment, Feliciano now sees in pixels. For the computer and the iPhone, though miraculous in their reach, carry the same danger: they tempt the mind to ease, to forgetfulness, to dependence. What was once an act of reflection has become a tap of the finger; what once required effort and patience is now granted by an algorithm before the question is even fully formed.

Feliciano, himself blind since childhood, learned early that the human mind can be vast and luminous when disciplined. Deprived of sight, he sharpened his other senses until music became his vision and sound his light. Thus, when he warns of mental laziness, he speaks as one who has lived the opposite: a life of mental strength, resilience, and imagination. His wisdom was not handed to him by a screen but carved through experience, persistence, and inward exploration. He knows that greatness does not grow from convenience—it grows from challenge.

There is an old tale from the East about a young monk who sought enlightenment. His master handed him a stone and told him to carry it everywhere for a year. “Why must I bear this burden?” the boy asked. “Because,” said the master, “only through effort do you awaken strength.” The modern mind, however, seeks to cast off every stone. The Internet, the smartphone, the instant answer—all promise ease, but at a cost: the weakening of the very muscle that gives life meaning—the mind itself. In escaping difficulty, we escape depth. In outsourcing thought, we surrender wisdom.

Feliciano’s warning is thus not merely about technology—it is about the human spirit. The mind, like a blade, must be sharpened through friction. When dulled by constant ease, it loses its edge. A person who cannot wait, cannot ponder, cannot bear silence, is a prisoner of distraction. And a society that glorifies speed over substance, convenience over contemplation, becomes one that forgets how to think. The great danger of our age is not that machines will think like men, but that men will begin to think like machines—quick, reactive, shallow, and unfeeling.

Yet, as in all truths, there is hope. The very tools that threaten our minds can also, if used rightly, expand them. The computer can be a library of infinite wisdom; the iPhone can be a window to beauty, art, and connection. But this requires awareness, restraint, and purpose. We must not allow the tools of progress to rule the soul. Like fire, they can warm or they can burn. Feliciano’s wisdom calls us to hold them with reverence—to use them as servants, not as masters.

So let his words stand as both warning and commandment: Do not let ease become your downfall. Train the mind as warriors train the sword. Read deeply. Reflect often. Listen to silence until it speaks. When you reach for your device, ask yourself whether it serves your growth or merely feeds your restlessness. For in this age of endless noise, true power belongs not to the distracted, but to the disciplined—those who still dare to think for themselves.

Thus, the lesson of José Feliciano endures: Technology may evolve, but the human mind must remain awake. Do not trade the vastness of thought for the comfort of convenience. Reclaim your attention as a sacred act. For the world may be full of lighted screens, but it is the mind—sharp, alive, and undistracted—that must shine the brightest.