Technology gives us power, but it does not and cannot tell us

When Jonathan Sacks, the wise rabbi and philosopher, declared, “Technology gives us power, but it does not and cannot tell us how to use that power. Thanks to technology, we can instantly communicate across the world, but it still doesn’t help us know what to say,” he spoke as one who beheld both the wonder and the emptiness of modern invention. His words rise like a warning bell in an age intoxicated with progress: technology multiplies our strength, but it does not grant us wisdom. The hand may wield lightning, but the heart must decide whether it heals or destroys.

The meaning of this saying lies in the distinction between means and ends. Technology provides the means—swift, powerful, efficient—but it does not dictate the ends to which it is used. A tool is neutral; its morality is found only in the hands of the user. The printing press spread the Bible to the poor, but it also spread propaganda to inflame wars. The Internet links families across oceans, but it also spreads lies at the speed of light. Sacks reminds us that while power has grown, wisdom has not kept pace, and so the burden of choice weighs heavier than ever before.

History itself offers solemn testimony. Consider the discovery of nuclear power. Within a single generation, humanity learned to split the atom, unleashing energies once confined to the stars. Yet what followed was both creation and destruction: reactors that lit up cities, and bombs that leveled them. Technology gave the power, but not the guidance. Nations had to ask themselves: shall this be fire for light or fire for ruin? The story shows that invention without moral compass is not progress, but peril.

We see the same truth in the realm of communication. Once, messages traveled by horse, by ship, by telegraph—slow, deliberate, constrained. Now, with a single device, a word can reach millions in an instant. But Sacks reminds us that speed does not grant wisdom. A thoughtless word, sent in anger, can ignite wars or destroy reputations. The tool can amplify, but it cannot teach discernment. Knowing what to say still depends not on the device in our hand, but on the depth of our heart.

Thus Sacks speaks with the voice of the ancients, echoing the wisdom of prophets and philosophers: that true progress is not measured by what we can do, but by what we ought to do. Technology extends human reach, but only virtue can guide the hand. Without truth, compassion, and responsibility, power is a double-edged sword, sharper against its wielder than its enemy. The danger of our age is not ignorance of tools, but ignorance of wisdom.

O seekers of truth, take this lesson: do not mistake power for purpose. Do not confuse the ability to speak with the wisdom of saying what is right. Master not only the tools in your hands, but also the virtues in your heart. Before you press “send,” ask yourself whether your words build or destroy. Before you wield a new invention, ask whether it heals or harms. In this way, you become not only a user of technology, but a guardian of humanity.

Therefore, remember Sacks’s words: “Technology gives us power, but it does not and cannot tell us how to use that power.” Let them be a compass in this age of noise. Build your wisdom as you build your tools. Train your spirit as you train your skills. And when you speak across the world, let your voice carry not only power, but also truth, kindness, and courage. For the future will not be shaped by the power of technology alone, but by the wisdom of those who choose how to wield it.