In the words of J.R.R. Tolkien’s character Gollum, here’s “my precious.” Seriously, I prefer to write on my laptop. When everything is working, it’s portable (as in works in the deer stand, when pulled from my turkey vest, or streamside while fly fishing), convenient, quiet, and easy to use. Nonetheless, technology sometimes fails, which is why I still maintain a certain level of distrust for it. Photo by Brad Dye

“All we have to do as people is keep teaching our children to read, and the rest will more than likely take care of itself.” – Larry Brown

I have a general distrust of technology, not an aversion per se, simply a distrust.  It’s not as pervasive as my distrust of most politicians (Republican, Democrat or Independent) but it’s there.

As I said, I’m not averse to technology. Although I still prefer reading an actual book or a physical newspaper, I have embraced digital media.  I also write on a MacBook using Microsoft Word and I love both.

The mistrust of my computer always comes at the end of the writing process when it’s time to save my work.  It seems that I’m never satisfied with simply saving a document to the hard drive, the cloud or both.  I usually also email it to myself and sometimes, in the case of a short piece, I may even go as far as printing a copy.

All these backup plans come as the result of having lost more than one in-process essay or article or, worse yet a finished work over the years due to battery or computer failure (or my failure to save the document while drafting it.  I’ve learned that autosave is my friend).

I realize I wouldn’t have these problems if I worked using a notepad and pencil much like one of my favorite writers, Wendell Berry.  Berry still handwrites everything, prior to turning it over to his wife Tanya for feedback, typing and editing.

Berry has become a literary (and lifestyle) hero of mine, and like Berry, I also have the benefit of having an editor at home.  G is by far a much better writer than I, and I’m grateful to have her eyes first on anything I have written.

However, I do have my doubts when it comes to whether she would type my handwritten manuscripts using a manual typewriter.  First, she most likely couldn’t read my chicken scratch — even with 31-plus years of experience — and second, there’s my aforementioned MacBook (Do it yourself, buddy).

I’m old enough that I took typing in high school and not keyboarding, and although that was done on an IBM electric typewriter and not a manual, I actually do have experience typing on a manual machine.  Did I say that I love my MacBook?

All kidding aside, Berry and his writing habits–or more specifically his overall aversion to technology–were one of the first things that came to mind when I was recently asked my thoughts on artificial intelligence.

In a nutshell, I’m suspect.  I’ve read the great things that have come or could come from it.  For example, if a scientist or doctor can use it as a tool to help find a cure for or create a more effective treatment for cancer, I’m in.

However, my concern is simple.  How much dumber will we as a species become because of AI?  What do I mean?  Well, my gut feeling is that many of our technological advances over the years have, in effect, dumbed us down.

As it turns out, Berry agrees with this sentiment.  In his book, “The Need to Be Whole: Patriotism and the History of Prejudice,” Berry writes that, “After several generations of ‘technological progress,’ in fact, we have become a people who cannot think about anything important….”

“Where else in history would you find ‘educated’ people who know more about sports than about the history of their country, or uneducated people who do not know the stories of their families and communities?” he writes.

I’ve most often attributed this inability to think to an attention span deficit created in us by an addiction to our cell phones.  We can’t seem to put them down, even when we’re sitting side by side in our homes at the dinner table with family and friends.

Berry, with his trademark “agrarian intelligence,” an AI that I can fully get behind, traces our attention deficit back even further:  “After 40-odd years, the evidence is everywhere that television, far from being a great tool of education, is a tool of stupefaction and disintegration.”

We have advanced ourselves into being less intelligent, less physically active and less productive (dumb, fat and lazy felt harsh, but accurate).  As much as I’ve always been impressed with Berry’s intellect, his work ethic and the way that he goes about his work (such as still using horse and plow versus a tractor to farm) has also left a lasting impression on me.

“If you love the freedom and elegance of simple tools, why encumber yourself with something complicated?” the Kentuckian writes, adding, “I knew a man who, in the age of chainsaws, went right on cutting his wood with a handsaw and an axe.  He was a healthier and a saner man than I am.  I shall let his memory trouble my thoughts.”

I’ve come to realize that Berry’s AI, the agrarian variety, suits me better than any artificial variety.  As I write this, I’m also trying to figure out how to disable Microsoft Word’s new “copilot” feature, which promises to assist me with “writing, editing and understanding documents.”

I’ll stick with my writing and my ideas.  Hopefully, editor G will be able to catch any bad grammar or incomplete thoughts in her initial review.  If not, any errors are all mine, all natural, never artificial (MacBook Air withstanding), and written from the heart with a love for the wild.

Until next time, here’s to seeing you out there “naturally” in our great outdoors.