This is technology that will not go away. And to risk it moving

The words of John Sununu, statesman and strategist, are not spoken lightly: “This is technology that will not go away. And to risk it moving into the hands of a terrorist group like al Qaeda or to other focused enemies of the United States, would have tragic consequences.” In this solemn reflection lies both a recognition of the unstoppable march of technology and a warning of the devastation it can unleash when wielded by hands without conscience. He speaks of an age where inventions cannot be buried once born, where the tools of progress and destruction alike become permanent features of our world.

The meaning begins with the assertion that technology does not vanish. Once discovered, it takes root in the mind of humanity, and no decree nor destruction can erase it. From the splitting of the atom to the mastery of digital networks, each new step endures, multiplying across generations. Sununu warns that it is not the presence of technology itself that determines fate, but the custodianship of it. If placed in the hands of those driven by hatred or ambition to destroy, its power can become the seed of unimaginable suffering.

The origin of this warning rests in the history of modern conflict. After the attacks of September 11th, the fear of weapons — nuclear, chemical, digital — falling into the control of terrorist groups such as al Qaeda became an urgent concern for nations. Sununu’s words reflect this climate, recognizing that vigilance is not optional but essential. Just as fire warms and illuminates when controlled but consumes and destroys when unleashed, so too must powerful technologies be guarded from misuse.

History itself has shown us both the light and the shadow of such power. When the United States harnessed nuclear technology in the Second World War, it brought the swift end of conflict but at the cost of devastation in Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Knowledge of the atom could not be undone; it spread, ushering in decades of nuclear tension. Likewise, the discovery of the internet promised global connection but also created new battlegrounds for cyberwarfare, espionage, and propaganda. Each invention, once born, carries within it both promise and peril.

The lesson Sununu offers is not one of despair, but of responsibility. Since we cannot erase technology, we must be vigilant stewards of it. We must build systems of trust, governance, and protection so that it is not twisted into a weapon by those who would seek only destruction. Just as a sword forged for defense can be stolen and wielded for conquest, so too must we guard the tools of our age with wisdom, foresight, and courage.

The teaching also speaks to the timeless truth that evil often seeks to corrupt what is good. It is not enough to celebrate innovation; we must also prepare for its shadow. The wise must train themselves to look beyond the triumph of invention and consider its consequences, asking: who will hold this power, and to what ends will it be used? To ignore this question is to invite tragedy, for history has shown that ambition without morality leads to ruin.

Practical actions emerge clearly. Citizens and leaders alike must champion the responsible use of technology, demanding safeguards, oversight, and cooperation across nations. We must invest not only in innovation but in the moral education that ensures human compassion guides human invention. On a personal level, we are reminded to wield our own tools — from social media to scientific knowledge — with integrity, refusing to let them be instruments of harm.

Thus, let Sununu’s words echo like a trumpet across the generations: technology will not go away, but its fate rests in the hands of those who wield it. May we ensure it remains a servant of life, not an instrument of death. And may those who inherit these tools walk wisely, lest the fire meant to guide our path become the flame that consumes our future.