Technology... is a queer thing. It brings you great gifts with

Hear the voice of Carrie Snow, who spoke with humor yet unveiled a truth that resounds across the ages: “Technology... is a queer thing. It brings you great gifts with one hand, and it stabs you in the back with the other.” In these words lies not only wit but warning, for she reminds us that invention is never innocent. Every tool that blesses us carries within it the seed of peril, and every advance that lifts us forward may also strike us down if we are careless.

From the dawn of fire, humanity has known this paradox. Fire warmed the cave, cooked the meat, and frightened the beasts of night. Yet it also consumed villages, devoured forests, and left ashes where life once thrived. So too with the wheel, the plow, the press, and the engine. Each brought abundance, swiftness, and power, yet each also birthed new dangers—warfare on greater scales, pollution of the earth, or dependence that made people forget the old skills of survival. Carrie Snow captures this eternal duality: technology is both friend and betrayer.

Consider the story of nuclear energy. In the hands of scientists, the atom yielded a great gift—the power to light entire cities with a fraction of the fuel once required, energy vast enough to sustain civilizations. But from the same knowledge came the atomic bomb, which in an instant obliterated Hiroshima and Nagasaki, leaving scars upon humanity’s conscience forever. Here, the two faces of technology are seen most clearly: with one hand, a shining promise; with the other, a dagger thrust into the heart of peace.

Even in daily life, we see this paradox. The computer has given us a library greater than Alexandria, a tool to connect with friends across oceans, and the ability to learn and create without end. Yet it has also given rise to endless distraction, the loss of focus, and the chains of dependency that keep us staring at screens when we might be living fully in the world. The Internet, too, is both a gift and a curse: it has given a voice to the voiceless, but it has also spread lies and hatred faster than truth can travel.

This dual nature must not lead us to despair, but to vigilance. For the blame does not lie in technology itself, which is but the tool; the blame lies in the choices of humankind, in whether we wield the gift or fall victim to the stab. The wise must see both hands of technology—the hand that blesses, and the hand that wounds—and prepare to take the one while guarding against the other.

The lesson, O listener, is clear: be neither worshipper nor enemy of technology. Use it with discernment, knowing its power to both uplift and betray. Welcome its gifts, but guard against its hidden blades. Do not let comfort soften your spirit or distraction steal your purpose. Instead, master your tools so that they serve your highest aims, and do not permit them to master you.

Practical steps follow: before adopting a new device or system, ask not only what it gives you, but what it takes away. Balance screen with silence, speed with patience, and power with humility. Teach the young not merely how to use technology, but how to question it, how to see both its blessings and its dangers. For in this wisdom lies safety, and in this balance lies the path forward.

Thus, remember Carrie Snow’s words: “Technology brings you great gifts with one hand, and stabs you in the back with the other.” To know this is to walk with open eyes in an age of marvels. To live by it is to ensure that the blade never strikes you unaware, and that the gifts of invention become blessings rather than curses for the generations to come.