ABSTRACT
The fate of civilization is not going to be determined by people who are morbidly like machines, on the one hand, or by people who are morbidly unmechanical, on the other. People in a machine civilization who try to live without being automatic and mechanical-minded part of the time and in some things, people who try to make everything they do artistic and self-expressive and hand-made, who attend to all their own thoughts and finish off all their actions by hand themselves, soon wish they were dead. The fate of civilization turns on men who recognize the nature of machinery, who make machines serve them, who add the machines to their souls, like telephones and wireless telegraph, or to their bodies, like radium and railroads, and who know when and when not and how not to use them—who are so used to using machines quietly and powerfully, that they do not let the machines outwit them and unman them.
