Technology is a beautifully shiny double-edged sword.

Angela Scanlon, with the clarity of a seer and the wit of a poet, declares: “Technology is a beautifully shiny double-edged sword.” Her words strike like the blade she describes—gleaming, alluring, yet dangerous in its very nature. For technology is the tool that has lifted mankind from caves to cities, from darkness to light, and yet, in the same breath, it has given mankind weapons that can burn the earth and chains that can enslave the mind. To call it a double-edged sword is to remind us that progress carries within it both salvation and peril.

The beauty of technology is undeniable. It shines with promise: cures for diseases once thought eternal, voices carried across oceans, the stars themselves brought closer through lenses and rockets. It is “shiny,” as Scanlon says, because it dazzles, it attracts, it fills the human heart with wonder at what may yet be possible. Like the sword given to a knight, it inspires courage, ambition, and hope. Yet beauty can be deceptive, and the gleam of the blade can hide its danger. For every edge that cuts the bonds of ignorance, there is another that can wound the very hand that wields it.

History is filled with examples of this truth. Consider the discovery of nuclear power. From the splitting of the atom came the ability to light entire cities, to power ships, to promise endless energy. But from the same discovery came the mushroom cloud over Hiroshima, and the terror of annihilation that has shadowed humanity ever since. The sword of the atom was indeed beautifully shiny—full of hope, yet edged with dread. Here is the lesson of Scanlon’s words: that what dazzles us may also destroy us, if wielded without wisdom.

Even in ancient days, men understood this principle. The tale of Prometheus, who stole fire from the gods, is nothing less than a parable of technology itself. Fire brought warmth, cooking, metalwork—the rise of civilization. Yet fire also brought war, destruction, and the burning of cities. Prometheus’ gift was a double-edged sword, shining with power, but forever bound to the risk of ruin. What was true of fire is true of every invention since: from the wheel to the Internet, from the printing press to artificial intelligence, each carries both blessing and curse.

And yet, we must not fear the sword so greatly that we refuse to wield it. For to live without technology would be to abandon much of what makes us human: our ingenuity, our drive to shape the world around us, our yearning to extend the boundaries of possibility. The challenge is not to turn away from progress, but to learn the art of mastery. Just as the warrior trains with the blade until it becomes an extension of his arm, so too must we train our hearts and minds to guide technology with wisdom, restraint, and compassion.

The lesson for us, O children of the present age, is clear. Do not be blinded by the shiny allure of new inventions, nor paralyzed by their dangers. Approach them as you would approach a sword—respectfully, cautiously, but also with courage. Ask always: Does this tool serve life, or diminish it? Does it free, or does it enslave? Does it unite, or divide? By asking these questions, we learn to hold the sword by its hilt, not its edge.

Therefore, take Angela Scanlon’s words as both a warning and an inspiration. Technology is a double-edged sword, but in the hand of the wise, it can defend, protect, and build. In the hand of the reckless, it can wound and destroy. The choice, as it has always been, rests not in the blade itself, but in the one who wields it. Train yourselves, then, not only in skill, but in judgment. Let the sword you wield shine, but let your wisdom shine brighter still.