sedentarization, agriculture, bronze or iron production,ncity-building — existed under the sponsorship of divinitiesnwho ftilfiUed two essentially civilizational hinctions: theynoffered their followers meaning of and justification for whatngods and men were doing, thereby calling for myths, rituals,nand art forms. The second function was to set limits thengiven technical instruments could not transcend — unlessnthe gods themselves changed, which meant another civilization.nThe novelty we pay insufficient attention to is that ourntechnological civilization so alienates man from his normalnstate (above nature, below the divine) that, for the first timenin history, he has discarded gods, myth, ritual, symbols, andnart and engaged in pure devastation, following the logic of anrationalistic calculus. The more robot-like man becomes,nthe greater the alienation and the more distant the prospectnof rediscovering the divine gifts: meaning and limits. Thenprevious civilizational forms were linked to the way of life ofnnomads, settled peasants, town builders, artisans and merchants,ntribal raiders, or priestly castes. All had sufficientnideological space, that is gods with their guidance andninterdicts, to allow for the play of ideas, and therefore tonevolve from one form and style to another. Their heroes,nsages, and societies engaged in new projects and adventures.nTrue, mankind always felt apprehensive about the unknown,nthe “terror of history” (Mircea Eliade), but thisndanger could be conjured away by the periodic rerooting ofnsociety in the ground of permanence. The immensenmultiplicity of historical forms and cultures was counterbalancednby belief in a stable power outside and above, whosenmundane agent was the moral conscience.nThe Age of Technology, this exclusively man-creatednmonster (its earlier icons too were monstrous figures, thenGolem and Frankenstein), is the first civilization acknowledgingnno partial solutions, no limited forms, no respect fornmaturation, unforeseen change, thus a fortiori no meaningnand no gods. It claims to be universal, lasting forever (exceptnthat it grows irreversibly like cancer), not linked to class,nhistorical period, or spiritual insight. It is an armorednGoliath, allowing no civilizational space for self-criticism ornself-transformation. Rather, the mania that motivates it, thenPascalian esprit de geometrie in its fully unleashed passion,ndivides the technological space, now our only Lebensraum,ninto clear-cut segments, each of them isolating us from onenanother, from imagination, personhood, and history. Innconcrete terms, every aspect of existence is regimented,nalways in the name of scientifically documented, thusnabsolutely intolerant, rule. Prometheus was able to rebelnagainst Zeus and thus become a popular hero; modernncitizens of technological societies cannot rebel against thenSurgeon General, the Kinsey Report, or Soviet atheist lawnwithout being declared unscientific and ipso facto insane.nIt is therefore not surprising that David Levy sees ournfuture as running an unprecedented risk. Strangely, however,nthough facing this danger of an altogether new magnitude,nthis qualitative leap toward robotization, he recommendsnthe “application of common sense and educatedncitizenry.” Is it not evident that our eventual masterteachersnin common sense would be unqualified for thentask, since they would be, are, recruited among the technocratsnthemselves, renamed for the purpose engineers of thenpsyche or therapists of fear. It is the first time in the annalsnof humanity that no spiritual leader would come forward tonturn us around {metanoia) because spirituality is itselfninventoried by the esprit de geometrie as a neatly segmentednspace for special cases.nIn short, in a technological world there is no room for annethics other than an ethics of technology. This is not thenconsequence of ill-will or of anybody’s act of decision. Ancivilization consists of myriads of microscopic acts, interpretednaccording to a network of significations, themselvesninvisibly pulled together by some master-concepts. Thenmechanization of man is the master-concept presiding overnour forms of existence, and mechanization itself is thenproduct of science. (The search for more compact masterconceptsnwhich rule us could be pursued with a relativenease, but it falls outside the limits of this essay.) Thus all thatnour age is able to produce is an ethics of technology which isnPrometheus was able to rebel against Zeus and thusnbecome a popular hero; modern citizens ofntechnological societies cannot rebel against the SurgeonnGeneral, the Kinsey Report, or Soviet atheist lawnwithout being declared unscientific and ipso factoninsane.nnot a moral reflection about technology but a method ofnfinding ways to adjust to it. The truth is, one cannot harnessntechnology without demoting science as a master-concept.nToday this seems like a totally unrealistic propositionnsince our words and concepts are shaped by acceptednmeanings and future expectations, all of them at presentngeometrical and mechanical. The demotion of science isnliterally inconceivable, which means that it cannot benconceptualized, at least in Western discourse. Our words arencharged with meanings which exclude such an expression asn”the dismantling of technological civilization.” Nevertheless,nconcepts end up by regrouping themselves behind newnimperatives, in the case the saving of nature and of humannnature. In this perspective, Hans Jonas is right: “We mustneducate our soul to a willingness to let itself be effected bynthe mere thought of possible fortunes and calamities ofnfuture generations.” Jonas is wrong, however, when hencontinues: “… so that the projections of futurology willnnot remain food for idle curiosity or equally idle pessimism.”n”The ethics of cosmic responsibility,” the principlesnof which Jonas tries to formulate, is itself marked byntechnological hubris; it does not go beyond signs on spacenships: “Do not litter up the galaxies!”nFuturology, as opposed to expectation or hope, is itself anproduct of machine civilization, an illegitimate projection ofnthe mechanical calculus outside its own sphere of programmedncompetence, to the vast and profound problemsnof providence and destiny. Futurology is idle curiosity, thensame as the experiments suggested by feminist ideologues:nhow to implant the fetus in the father’s abdomen.nSin begins with such curiosity. The ethics of the technologicalnage, if there is such a thing beyond traditional ethics,nwould have to be founded on the biblical understanding thatnnot everything that is technically possible is morally licit.nnnFEBRUARY 1988 / 15n