Technology has a shadow side. It accounts for real progress in

Hear now, O seekers of balance, the words of Andrew Weil, physician and sage of our age, who declared: “Technology has a shadow side. It accounts for real progress in medicine, but has also hurt it in many ways, making it more impersonal, expensive and dangerous. The false belief that a safety net of sophisticated drugs and machines stretches below us, permitting risky or lazy lifestyle choices, has undermined our spirit of self-reliance.” In this utterance, the veil is lifted from the gleaming face of technology, and we see that even the brightest flame casts a shadow.

For truly, medicine has been exalted by our inventions. Diseases once fatal now bow before the surgeon’s hand; epidemics are slowed by vaccines; broken bones are knit with steel and skill. Yet as Weil warns, the blessing hides a peril: in the very abundance of our machines and drugs, we may lose sight of the deeper covenant between body and spirit. Medicine, once a sacred bond between healer and patient, risks becoming cold, mechanized, and bound by cost. What was meant to serve us may distance us from our own humanity.

Think upon the Romans of old, whose aqueducts carried water like arteries across their empire. At first, these marvels brought cleanliness and life. But with their rising abundance, the people grew careless, forgetting the virtues of simplicity and moderation. Wealth and luxury made them soft, and when crisis came, their reliance on comfort left them unprepared. So too today: we build a vast safety net of pills and devices, and in our faith in it, we permit ourselves to live recklessly, neglecting the ancient virtues of discipline, moderation, and care.

Weil calls this a weakening of the spirit of self-reliance, that proud strength by which generations endured hardship without the promise of rescue. Our ancestors, who tilled fields, foraged for herbs, and respected the balance of body and earth, lived with constant awareness of their fragility. This awareness gave them resilience, caution, and respect for life’s rhythms. But we, swaddled by machines, risk forgetting that health is not bought, but cultivated daily through choices of mind and body.

Consider, O listener, the story of the Black Death in the fourteenth century. With no machines, no antibiotics, no respirators, people faced the plague with terror and humility. Though millions perished, the survivors learned resilience, discipline, and reverence for nature’s power. Their struggle bore fruit in reforms, in art, in a renewed questioning of how life should be lived. If even in catastrophe the human spirit could grow, what excuse have we, who live in an age of plenty, to surrender our strength to laziness?

The message is not to despise technology, but to master it wisely. Just as fire may warm or consume, just as the sword may defend or destroy, so too our machines can heal or corrupt. Used rightly, they extend our reach; abused, they diminish our will. The wisdom lies not in rejecting progress, but in marrying it with vigilance, humility, and a fierce commitment to self-care.

Therefore, O child of the future, take this teaching into your life: cherish the tools of medicine, but never abandon your self-reliance. Nourish your body with discipline before you lean on drugs. Seek connection with healers, not only with machines. Live as if no safety net existed, cultivating resilience through diet, exercise, and mindfulness. Then, when you must use technology, it will serve as an ally, not a crutch. For only when strength of spirit meets the power of invention can humankind walk whole into the generations yet to come.