We want to build technology that everybody loves using, and that

The visionary and co-founder of Google, Larry Page, once declared: “We want to build technology that everybody loves using, and that affects everyone. We want to create beautiful, intuitive services and technologies that are so incredibly useful that people use them twice a day. Like they use a toothbrush. There aren't that many things people use twice a day.” Within these words lies not only a corporate ambition, but a philosophy of technology that seeks to become as essential and natural as breathing, as intimate as one’s daily routine.

At the heart of this quote is the desire to build technology that is loved. Many inventions serve a function, but few inspire affection. To be “loved” means that the tool has transcended utility; it has woven itself into the human heart and daily ritual. Page compares it to the toothbrush, a simple object, yet one that all people rely upon faithfully, morning and night. His vision is that technology should not merely be used, but embraced with the same regularity, the same trust, the same unconscious certainty.

Yet such a goal demands that technology be beautiful and intuitive. Beauty here is not mere decoration, but harmony — the sense that a tool fits so perfectly with human need that it feels natural, even effortless. Intuition means that its use requires no manual, no struggle, but flows like water meeting a streambed. History has shown that the most transformative tools are those that feel like extensions of the self. The quill pen, the telephone, the light switch — each became indispensable not because of complexity, but because of their elegant simplicity.

Consider the rise of the smartphone. Once, to access information or communicate across distance was a task bound by wires, machines, and delay. But with the creation of intuitive mobile devices, people now carry the world in their pocket, consulting it as regularly as they brush their teeth. The device became a companion, a ritual, an indispensable extension of human identity. Page’s dream was not fantasy — it was prophecy, already unfolding.

But such usefulness comes at a price. To become as essential as a toothbrush is to hold great power over human life. Technology that is used “twice a day” shapes thought, habit, and even character. The toothbrush preserves health; what, then, does technology preserve — or erode? Here lies the deeper challenge: to ensure that such indispensable tools do not consume, but uplift. To build what is both useful and wise, what strengthens humanity rather than weakens it, requires foresight, humility, and restraint.

Page’s words also echo the eternal truth that the most powerful inventions are those that serve everyone. The printing press spread knowledge across classes; the radio carried voices to both the rich and the poor; the internet now binds together billions. The power of technology is not measured in its complexity, but in its reach. To affect all, and to be loved by all, is to create something that speaks to the shared humanity within us.

Therefore, O seekers of wisdom, take to heart Larry Page’s vision: technology like a toothbrush, used faithfully, loved deeply, woven into daily life. Let inventors remember that true greatness lies not in dazzling complexity, but in humble usefulness. Let users remember to ask whether the tools they embrace are worthy of daily devotion. And let all remember that technology, like the toothbrush, must not only be constant, but cleansing — preserving the integrity of the human spirit as it serves the needs of the human body. For only then will progress be both beautiful and good.