from room-sized computers to the dark crystal: a message to the kids

Dear young people,

I want to tell you something about technology, because I have lived through its evolution. I remember when computers filled entire rooms, and I have watched them shrink until they fit into our pockets.

Did you know that Ada Lovelace is widely regarded as the first computer programmer? In the 1840s, long before modern computers existed, she wrote an algorithm intended for Charles Babbage's proposed Analytical Engine. She imagined computers doing more than calculations, including working with music and symbols.

Think about that. A woman imagined possibilities that most people of her time could barely comprehend.

I learned computers when floppy disks were part of everyday life. Later came scanning, digital imaging, coding, website building, web design, search engines, social media, video and apps.

I built websites for artists, businesses, friends and myself. I had my own domain names. I designed, experimented, created and learned. I built blogs, travel websites and videos. I have hundreds of videos online, along with photographs and stories documenting my travels and the world around me.

I watched technology open doors that once seemed impossible.

I believed it would help us communicate, share knowledge, preserve our memories and connect humanity. We wouldn't need enormous cameras or bulky computers. We could carry our creative tools wherever we went.

And for a while, it felt as though we were moving towards that future.

Then came the social media platforms.

I watched Facebook bring people together, and I watched how it could divide them. I watched Instagram thrill people with new possibilities, then watched how comparison, algorithms and the pressure to perform could affect lives.

Something that began as a way to share our lives became a place where we were encouraged to display them, measure them and compete for approval.

And now we have artificial intelligence, data centres and an ever-expanding technological infrastructure that demands enormous resources from the Earth.

Where does this leave us?

have we forgotten what technology was supposed to be for?

Children are growing up in a world where a phone can be the first thing they see in the morning and the last thing they see at night.

They see influencers displaying wealth, beauty, fame and lifestyles that most people cannot afford. They are surrounded by advertising, urged to consume, encouraged to compare themselves with others and taught to measure success through numbers.

Likes. Followers. Views. Money.

But what happened to the things that cannot be measured so easily?

Kindness. Curiosity. Friendship. Creativity. Time spent outdoors. The satisfaction of learning a skill. The freedom to be ordinary, to make mistakes, to be yourself without an audience.

What happens when a child begins to believe that being noticed is the same as being valued?

What happens when a young person compares their ordinary life with somebody else's carefully manufactured online image and concludes that they are somehow not enough?

These are questions we need to take seriously. Social media does not affect everyone in the same way, but its effects on wellbeing, body image, sleep and mental health deserve our attention.

And children did not create this world. They inherited it.

the dark crystal

Do you remember The Dark Crystal?

In that story, the Skeksis extract the essence of living creatures to sustain themselves. They grow powerful while other beings are drained of their vitality.

I think about that story when I look at the business models behind our digital lives.

Our attention is valuable. Our personal information is valuable. Our habits, fears, interests, relationships and insecurities can all become sources of profit.

The longer we remain engaged, the more opportunities there are to advertise to us, collect information about us and sell access to our attention.

I am not suggesting that a computer literally steals our souls. I am asking what happens when the systems we build begin to consume so much of our time, energy and attention that we have less left for living.

And there is a physical cost, too.

The devices we use require minerals, energy, water, manufacturing, transportation and disposal. The growing infrastructure behind artificial intelligence also has environmental costs. The Earth is not an infinite warehouse of resources waiting to be extracted for somebody else's profit.

Meanwhile, the people who own the largest platforms and technological empires can accumulate extraordinary wealth.

I find myself asking: who benefits, who pays, and what kind of future are we building?

kids, you deserve to know

I am not telling you to throw away your phones, abandon computers or reject every new invention.

I am someone who embraced technology. I learned it, built with it and used it to create art, websites, photographs, videos and stories. I know what it can make possible.

That is precisely why I am asking you to think critically about where it is taking us.

A tool should help you live your life, not become your life.

You do not have to turn every experience into content. You do not have to buy everything an influencer promotes. You do not have to measure your worth by your appearance, your possessions or your popularity.

You are allowed to put your phone down.

You are allowed to be bored. You are allowed to have private experiences that nobody else sees. You are allowed to make art without an audience, enjoy nature without photographing it, and spend time with people without checking a screen.

Learn how the technology works. Ask who owns it, who profits from it, what resources it consumes and what happens to your information.

Demand transparency, privacy, responsible design and accountability from the companies that build these systems.

And remember that the most important things in life are not necessarily the things that make someone else rich.

we can still choose a different future

Technology gave my generation opportunities we could scarcely have imagined when computers filled entire rooms.

I wanted those opportunities to help us become more connected, more informed and more creative.

I still believe technology can do those things.

But progress should not be measured only by faster computers, bigger platforms, higher profits or more sophisticated artificial intelligence.

It should also be measured by whether people are healthier, whether children feel safe, whether older people are included, whether communities care for one another and whether the natural world can sustain us.

If our inventions make a handful of people extraordinarily wealthy while leaving others lonely, exhausted, insecure and disconnected, we have some serious questions to answer.

I think of The Dark Crystal again.

The Skeksis believed they needed to keep extracting essence to preserve their power. They could not see a future beyond their own appetite.

Humanity has a choice the Skeksis refused to make.

We can decide that endless extraction is not the purpose of progress.

We can build technology that serves people rather than treating people as products. We can protect the Earth rather than pretending its resources are limitless. We can teach children that their lives have value beyond their usefulness to an algorithm or their purchasing power in a marketplace.

Kids, you are not here to feed the machines, enrich the oligarchs or perform your lives for an audience.

You are here to live.

Please don't let the noise convince you otherwise.

Written by someone who has lived through the evolution of computers, embraced their possibilities, and is now asking what we have gained, what we have lost, and what we must protect.

— Tina Winterlik