Here’s a question that sounds simple but isn’t.
What does it mean for something to work?
If you asked someone in 1985, they’d have a clear answer. A telephone works when you pick it up, dial, and hear a voice on the other end. A car works when you turn the key and it drives. A watch works when it tells the correct time without you thinking about it.
Today, the answer is murkier.
Your smartphone works – except when it doesn’t. Except when the update changes where the button is. Except when the app crashes during a moment that mattered. Except when you have to say, out loud, to another person: “Sorry, my phone is acting up.”
When did we start apologizing for our tools?
When did we accept that a device we paid for, that we carry everywhere, that we trust with our contacts and photos and medical information – when did we accept that it’s allowed to be unreliable?
Somewhere along the way, we stopped asking if it works. We started asking if it works well enough.
And that shift matters more than we realize.
Because “well enough” is a sliding scale. It’s permission for the device to demand more while delivering less. It’s the slow normalization of brokenness. A crash here. A freeze there. A feature you never asked for that you can’t remove. A notification you can’t silence.
We absorbed all of it. We adjusted. We stopped noticing.
But here’s the deeper question, the one we’ve been avoiding:
What if we never actually asked if the smartphone worked the way we intended? What if we simply accepted the path it set, never questioning whether it was the right path at all?
Think about the original promise. A communication device. A tool to connect people, access information, simplify tasks.
Now think about what it became. A distraction engine. A data harvester. A dependency disguised as convenience.
At what point did we derail?
Was it the first time an app demanded a permission that had nothing to do with its function? The first time an update forced a redesign we didn’t want? The first time we realized we couldn’t opt out without opting out of society itself?
The derailment didn’t happen in one moment. It happened in a thousand small agreements we never realized we were making. Each one reasonable on its own. Each one, in retrospect, a step away from what we actually needed.
We stopped asking if it works the way we intended.
We started asking if it works the way they intended.
And then we forgot there was ever a difference.
End of Episode 5
–
Author: Modis Chrisha, artist, music producer and writer, exploring the intersection of technology, human potential, and society.
“The Keep Going Project” book series, 20 published books that hold 200 motivational and inspirational quotes, available worldwide.
Leave a Reply