By Austin Zeilstra · Contributing Writer
I was deeply concerned after reading the letter to the editor (“The Case for Digital Maximalism”) in last week’s Collegian, and whether it was AI-written or not, the ideas championed therein ought to be challenged.
Most basically, last week’s letter misunderstood the goal of Dr. Franklin’s talk and of digital minimalism, including the diagnostic 30-day fast. Digital minimalism is not a “gospel of subtraction,” and it does not believe that “the good life begins with the question of how much is just enough.” Rather, Franklin and other wise voices today invite us to consider how we might “take hold of that which is truly life,” to borrow the Apostle Paul’s phrasing from 1 Timothy 6:19.
In that passage, Paul instructs how to warn the wealthy about the potentially detrimental influence of money. Money is not evil, and Paul does not portray it as such, nor is technology evil, and Franklin did not portray it as such. Both men warn us to guard against how powerful and (sometimes) very good capacities can harm us and render us unable to love others well.
For, after all, love is the goal. If we are to follow Christ and truly do the “greater works” that last week’s letter mentions, we must love others earnestly and know how deeply we are loved.
Paul was not impressed with those who could raise the dead and heal the sick and cast out devils. Whatever technology might equip us to do, if it does not make us more loving, what good is it (1 Corinthians 13:1-3)?
Only those miracles done with love are truly worthy of being called miraculous. After all, Jesus says that on the Last Day, He will turn away many who say, “Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and cast out demons in your name, and do many mighty works in your name?” (Matthew 7:22). It is not the works we should aim for — it is the loving heart behind the works.
Love is the power that will enable us to do “greater works,” and technology cannot create loving hearts in us. In fact, it often allows us to avoid the slow, human, arduous process of becoming more Christlike, which is exactly why Franklin and others who support digital minimalism care so deeply about this issue.
Finally, on the topic of great works and technology, Jesus gives another caution to those who celebrate newfound power. When the 72 disciples returned from their missionary journeys, they joyfully recounted how “even the demons are subject to us in your name!”
Jesus celebrates with them, but he ends with a word of caution: “Nevertheless, do not rejoice in this, that the spirits are subject to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven” (Luke 10:17-20).
Whereas the disciples were excited about power, Jesus pointed them to their real need: delighting in their being accepted by God. Technological advancement can allow us to do powerful works, but can it teach us to rejoice in being God’s children? Does it not have the tendency to further enslave us to the narrative of having to prove ourselves, earn God’s favor and impress Him with our “greater works”?
Digital minimalism does not claim that technology can never be used in loving, redemptive ways, or that one can never carry on the work of Jesus with a computer. It does, however, invite us to healthy skepticism and intentional living that frees us to avoid distraction, act with genuine love toward others and live rooted and grounded in God’s love, which meets us as we are — weak and in desperate need of Christ’s grace.
(P.S. If you want to understand precisely what digital minimalism is and what Dr. Franklin argued for at his excellent lecture, talk to Dr. Franklin, me or someone else who attended his lecture, or refer to the work of author Cal Newport.)
— Austin Zeilstra (’28)
