Technology is such a broad kind of term, it really applies to so

Hear the voice of Jeff Bridges, who speaks not as a philosopher of machines, but as a man who has lived long enough to feel both the gift and the burden of invention: “Technology is such a broad kind of term, it really applies to so many things, from the electric light to running cars on oil. All of these different things can be called technology. I have kind of a love-hate relationship with it, as I expect most people do. With the computer, I spend so many hours sitting in front of a computer.” In this simple confession lies a profound truth—the dual nature of progress, both liberating and confining, both wondrous and wearying.

For indeed, what is technology but the sum of all human attempts to extend the body and magnify the mind? The electric light shattered the tyranny of darkness, allowing humanity to work, read, and dream beneath midnight skies. The oil-powered car gave mobility to the masses, shrinking continents into mere hours of travel. And yet, each blessing carried a hidden burden. Light extended work into endless labor, blurring the rhythms of rest. Oil brought speed, but also smoke, conflict, and the chains of dependency. Thus Bridges speaks rightly of a love-hate relationship: we are both grateful for what we have created, and uneasy with what it has made of us.

Consider the rise of the computer, which Bridges names directly. Once imagined as a tool for calculation, it has become the central hearth of modern life. Through it, men and women communicate, create, and command knowledge undreamed of by the ancients. Yet it also binds us to chairs, steals our hours, and demands our gaze until our eyes grow weary. The very device that extends our abilities also narrows our days, confining the body even as it frees the mind. This is the paradox of progress—the liberation that carries with it a new captivity.

History too gives us echoes of this ambivalence. When the printing press was born, it unleashed wisdom across the world, giving power to common people who once knew only silence. Yet at the same time, it spread propaganda and lies, fueling wars of religion and ideology. When the steam engine was built, it transformed industry, but it also blackened skies and filled cities with choking smog. Always, humanity’s creations are double-edged: they uplift and they oppress, they inspire and they enslave. Bridges, in his words, reminds us that our relationship with technology must be honest, acknowledging both its blessings and its curses.

Yet his reflection is not a call to despair. Rather, it is an invitation to awareness. To admit a love-hate relationship with machines is to resist blind worship, while also refusing blind rejection. For the truth is that tools, whether electric light, oil-powered car, or computer, are neither gods nor demons—they are mirrors of ourselves. What they give us depends on how we wield them, how we balance their power with wisdom, and how we ensure that they serve us rather than consume us.

The lesson, O seeker of wisdom, is this: let technology be your servant, not your master. Use it to extend your reach, but not to diminish your humanity. When the computer calls you to sit for endless hours, rise and walk beneath the open sky. When the car offers speed, remember also to walk among your neighbors. When the light shines unceasingly, do not forget the rhythm of night and the sanctity of rest. Embrace progress, but balance it with discipline, lest your soul be lost in the glow of your own inventions.

Practical steps follow: set boundaries on the hours you spend before your machines. Choose times of silence, free from screens, so that you may hear again the voice of your own spirit. Use your devices to connect with others, not to withdraw into solitude. Be grateful for the miracles of technology, but keep watch for the chains it may quietly forge. In this way, your love-hate relationship will become a harmony, where gratitude and caution dwell together in wisdom.

Thus, remember Jeff Bridges’ words, spoken in honesty: “Technology… I have kind of a love-hate relationship with it.” This is the truth of our age, and perhaps of every age: what we build will both bless and burden us. Accept this duality, walk wisely, and let your tools serve your humanity, not define it. In this balance lies the true art of living with technology.