The unscientific foundation of science and technology is in need of wisdom, practical and theoretical, about human ends.
With the rise of humanism and modern critical scholarly practices in subsequent centuries, texts began to be treated as material objects to be fixed and plumbed for meaning.
Capitalism has been a form of enchantment, a metamorphosis of the sacred in the raiment of secularity. With money as its ontological marrow, it represents a moral and metaphysical imagination as well as a sublimation of our desire for the presence of divinity in the everyday world.
This was the nightmare of scientific progress: The truths of today would become the falsehoods—or at least the errors—of tomorrow.
The invisibility of embedded science is an apparently paradoxical, but reliable, index of the significance of science for everyday life—for government, for commerce, and, not least, for our sense of self.
The quest for personal authenticity and autonomy in the face of unreliable communities and institutions has become a defining feature of the modern working class.
Taking a hard look at the smart city requires that we ask not only where it might fail to live up to the promises of its boosters, but also where it is successful and how it might nonetheless still fail us as citizens and as human beings.
Great as they are, the challenges of the digital age are not only profoundly intellectual and conceptual.
At the beginning of the digital revolution, there existed a speculative energy that we could use now. It was put at the service not of innovation or disruption but of maintenance and politics, of establishing categories to put our digital world on a better course.
The complexities of social media ought to prompt deep reflection on what we all owe to the future, and how we might discharge this debt.
Our political moment demands to see who we are—a beautiful and terrifying ordeal.
The highly abstract and immaterial phantom economy is inextricable from the “real economy.”
Social and cultural change, from the rise of the “information economy” to changes in family life to the technological mediation of our relationships, is happening all around us.
Work is not just an economic matter. Beyond survival, a range of other human values and ideals are at stake.
Demands on our attention come from the informational environments and shared physical spaces we inhabit. At issue are ethical questions about the conduct of civic life.
Untruth—information that could be described as unverified, misleading, or an out-and-out lie—has been spreading with new ease and abandon, and often to undemocratic effect.
Is the whole world slouching toward a Panopticon of digitally enabled surveillance and control?
The interplay of friendship and technology has been far longer-running than we think.
Is modern-day philanthropy a disease in the democratic body politic?
If projects like E-Estonia mark a break with paper, they also represent the continuation of an administrative order made possible by the first paper revolution.
Never has food been delivered in such abundance, so far, or so safely.
Could the great size of companies like Apple and Walmart actually be a good thing?
Can Big Data be harnessed for the pursuit of thriving urban communities and, if so, how?
Cities can benefit from Big Data through city-to-city learning, the exchange of best practices, and improving the lives of their citizens.
Cities are increasingly being eyed by tech companies for their social dynamism and ability to generate innovation. This will have tremendous consequences for the future of society.
In India's rush to transform, build, and even engineer entire new cities, critics are right to raise concerns about citizenship and access.
Reimagining our cities provides us an important opportunity to reconsider the various structures of urban life.
What's the real-world significance of arguing in a New York Times op-ed that life doesn't exist? More than we might initially think.
A monkey's selfie has done more than just raise awareness about an endangered species.
To reduce a museum experience to the laws of supply and demand devalues not only the art itself but also the curators’ years of education and expertise—connoisseurship on which we rely in institutions that position themselves as cultural arbiters.
If technology rarely delivers on its claims, then need we waste so much as a backward glance as we dash ahead to the next digital milestone?
It's just not possible to love something that says “be unique, but only as unique as we'll allow you to be.”
If we want the Internet to remain free and open for everyone, is it right to exclude bullies and jerks? Lessons from the Ellen Pao incident.
According to Sherry Turkle's latest book, my peers and I simply can’t stand sitting alone with our thoughts, and it’s hurting our capacity for intimacy.
As we remember the Challenger disaster, let’s not forget the engineers who tried to convince NASA not to send up the Space Shuttle on a cold morning thirty years ago.
Numbers and big data may be able to show us how to do things better, but they cannot show us how to do things.
As the power of science grows, its dominion extends even into areas of our culture where its proclaimed authority is questionable.
What does dominion “over every living thing that moves on the earth” mean? Brute sovereignty and ruthless exploitation? Or thoughtful stewardship and responsible cultivation?
It is precisely at such moments of technological dependency that one might consider interrogating one’s relationship with technology more broadly.
Who will emerge as the new elite from this particular moment’s cast of winners and losers?
The Internet is a technical system that has reshaped social roles and relationships in ways that we are at this point far from fully understanding. We are living out the terms of the new social contract.
Why read long books? Well, if you have to ask…