A Theology of Technology

with Chris Ralston, PhD

In our last post we noted that Baylor’s Technology and Human Flourishing conference underscored the need for, as we put it, a “robust theology of technology.” We thought we’d follow up with some reflections on what such a theology might look like.

In chapter three of their book entitled Bioethics: A Christian Approach in a Pluralistic Age,[1]Scott B. Rae and Paul M. Cox develop a helpful framework for thinking about “Medical Technology in Theological Perspective.” The following is a very brief synopsis of their discussion.

The golden leaves of the pecan in autumn in central Texas.

The starting point for thinking about medical technology in theological perspective is the creation narrative as recorded in Genesis 1 and 2—specifically, with what has been termed the “dominion mandate” and with the doctrines of general revelation and common grace. At the creation humankind was charged with a mandate to “subdue the earth and be its master” (p. 94). The fulfillment of this task was, however, complicated by the entrance of sin into the world. Consequently, the post-Fall mandate includes “working toward improving the creation, or reversing the effects of the entrance of sin” into the created order, a significant aspect of which is dealing with death and disease (p. 95). Importantly, the dominion mandate is constrained by our role as stewards of rather than masters over creation: “At creation, human beings were charged with both dominion and stewardship. Creation was theirs to use for their benefit, but it ultimately belonged to God and they were responsible to him for its proper care” (p. 95).

According to the doctrine of general revelation, God provides both the “natural resources” and the “human ingenuity and wisdom” requisite for human beings to fulfill the dominion mandate (pp. 95-96). The doctrine of common grace affirms the notion that “God’s grace… is bestowed commonly, or on all humankind, irrespective of one’s membership in the community of God’s people” (p. 97). (Consider, for example, the rain that God sends, which falls on the “just” and the “unjust” alike; cf. Acts 14:17.)

Taken together, God’s general revelation and common grace provide human beings with “the knowledge and skill that are necessary to develop the kinds of technologies that enable humankind to subdue the creation” (p. 97). This is no less true of medical technology than of other forms of technology.

Crucially, however, medical technology can achieve only a “partial and temporary” victory over death and disease—it can never conquer them entirely. Moreover, given the sinful nature of humanity, technology can be put both to good and evil uses, in service of both virtuous and vicious ends (pp. 98-99). Consequently, “[w]e must distinguish between the use of any particular medical technology per se and its intended or actual use in practice. That is, it is possible to see virtually any medical technology as a part of God’s common grace to humankind. But that does not exempt it from moral assessment of its uses” (p. 99).

Engaging in such “moral assessment” of technology—whether medical technology specifically or other forms of technology more generally—was one of the key tasks to which Baylor’s IFL conference was devoted.

In this vein, I (Cody) sensed that most of the attendees were wrestling honestly with how to use technology wisely and still be authentic in their Christian faith.  On several occasions people mentioned the desire to avoid a “Luddite” dismissal of technology altogether, as if separating from electronic gadgets offered a particular kind of spiritual purity.  Most understood that spiritual health is essentially a matter of the heart, and the external aspect of using technology may or may not indicate the status of the soul.  Instead, many Christians opt for a view of technology that stresses the fact that we use technology and technology should not “use” us.  When technology is no longer useful or, even worse, when it begins to sets us back or harm us as Christian people, we lay it aside.  Or as the Reformers might have put it, “Let us do all Soli Deo Gloria, For the Glory of God Alone.”

We’d like to close with a brief note about the notion of “virtual” technology.  A number of the speakers at the IFL conference dealt with this issue, from discussions of how a child’s involvement with outdoors activities or handicrafts can improve ADHD symptoms to the importance of the local gathering of believers as the body of Christ in church worship.  These ideas emphasize the importance of place, “being there” if you will.  As Kay Toombs mentioned in her talk, we can relay information about a spouse’s illness to many people via a Facebook status update, but this is very different from sharing this information in the presence of someone who can hold our hand.  And this is very directly related to our being ensouled beings, not just cerebral beings that communicate data but spiritual people who are there, in a particular place.  It’s nice that we are able to share with you some of this information over the Internet, but it might be even better if you can now go and discuss some of these heart-felt issues with a friend over a cup of coffee.

We invite further reflection on these topics from our readers.




[1] Eerdmans, 1999, pp. 91-127.

0 0 vote
Article Rating
Notify of
Newest Most Voted
Inline Feedbacks
View all comments
John Kilner
John Kilner
8 years ago

Thanks for this, Cody and Chris. Do you think that it is important to see technology as an extension of ourselves, accountable to the same ethical standards to which we would consider people accountable? In other words, is it the case that technology enables us to do things more efficiently, but it does not change the fact that it is we who are doing those things? In the use of reproductive technologies, for instance, it seems easy for some to justify IVF with donor gametes, because it is just a lab procedure, not a sexual act of adultery. But if children are to be the fruit of a marriage relationship, then a woman (married or not) having a child with an anonymous sperm donor would be ethically problematic whether she has sexual relations with the man or not. Would you say that doing something via technology doesn’t make something ethical that would be unethical if done by people without the aid of that technology?

Chris Ralston
Chris Ralston
8 years ago
Reply to  John Kilner

Yes, I would agree wholeheartedly with these statements. Part of the difficulty, I think, comes in the temptation to think of technology as being “neutral” — indeed, as wholly separate or “other” from ourselves. As several of the speakers at the IFL conference noted, it is quite common to hear it said that “technology is morally neutral; what matters is what we do with it.” To be sure, it does matter what we “do” with technology, but the assumption that technology itself is inherently morally neutral is, at the very least, an assumption worth examining. If technology is, instead, more appropriately thought of as an “extension” of ourselves, as you suggest, then it is anything but morally neutral: just as all our other actions, attitudes, and beliefs are appropriately subject to moral assessment, so, too, are the things we do with technology (and indeed the “technologies” themselves that we devise and employ). In an interesting kind of way, this sort of statement is a twist on the perennial maxim to the effect that “the ends don’t justify the means.” If an end is ethically impermissible, then the means used to achieve that end — whether “technological” or otherwise — do nothing to change that impermissibility.