ABSTRACT
In the last century or two of social disruption, we were tempted by an excess of faith in the machine to do everything by means of it. We were like children left alone with a paint brush who applied it impartially to unpainted wood, to varnished furniture, to the tablecloth, to his toys, and to his own face. When with increased knowledge and judgment, we discover that some of those uses are inappropriate, that others are redundant, and that others are inefficient substitutes for a more vital adjustment, we will contract the machine to those areas in which it serves directly as an instrument of human purpose.
