Technology doesn't just do things for us. It does things to us

Hear the voice of Sherry Turkle, a thinker who peers deeply into the soul of our age: “Technology doesn’t just do things for us. It does things to us, changing not just what we do but who we are.” These words are no fleeting observation, but a warning carved with precision. For many see technology only as a servant, a tool that lightens labor and broadens power. Yet Turkle reminds us that the servant also whispers into the mind of the master, shaping habits, altering desires, and slowly, silently, transforming the very core of human identity.

From the earliest days, humankind has made tools to act in its stead. The plow carved the soil, the sail conquered the winds, the wheel bore burdens across the land. Yet each tool also shaped the soul of its user. The plow turned wandering tribes into settled farmers. The wheel birthed trade and empire. The clock, ticking with merciless precision, transformed the rhythms of daily life and bound humanity to the tyranny of time. Thus, Turkle speaks rightly: technology does not merely change what we do—it molds what we are.

Consider the story of the telephone. When first introduced, it astonished people with the power to speak across miles. Families divided by distance were suddenly reunited by voice. But in time, the telephone did more than connect—it altered the expectations of human presence itself. Suddenly, to be unavailable was an offense; the pace of life accelerated; and the very concept of privacy was reshaped. What seemed at first a tool of convenience became a sculptor of society’s very rhythms and relationships.

Or reflect upon the internet and smartphones of our own age. They do countless things for us—they bring knowledge, ease communication, and provide endless entertainment. Yet they also do things to us: they shorten our attention, they make silence unbearable, they tempt us to measure our worth in fleeting digital approval. Some rise enriched, others fall enslaved, but none remain unchanged. This is the double truth of Turkle’s words—that every device not only serves, but also reshapes.

This transformation is neither wholly evil nor wholly good. For technology can awaken the best in us—connection, creativity, compassion across borders. But it can also nurture the worst—vanity, division, dependence, and emptiness. The question is not whether technology changes us—it always does—but whether we allow it to elevate or to erode our humanity. Here lies the weight of responsibility: to be mindful not only of what tools do for us, but of what they make us become.

So, O seeker of wisdom, the lesson is clear: walk with awareness. Do not sleepwalk through this age of glowing screens and humming machines. Ask yourself daily: What is this tool doing to me? How does it shape my mind, my heart, my soul? For the greatest danger is not that technology will fail us, but that we will fail to see how it has already remade us.

Practical steps are before you: set boundaries, so that you remain master, not servant. Embrace moments of silence, so that your soul is not consumed by constant noise. Use your devices to create more than you consume, to connect more deeply than you isolate. And above all, measure your worth not by the reflections technology casts back at you, but by the timeless virtues—compassion, wisdom, and truth—that no machine can manufacture.

Thus remember Turkle’s wisdom: “Technology doesn’t just do things for us. It does things to us.” To live in this age is to carry both gift and burden. The gift is power greater than any age before us. The burden is to remain human amidst the tools that would reshape us. Hold fast to your soul, and you will use technology wisely—without losing yourself in its grasp.