A wave of small tech-rebellions has taken hold… 

In Brooklyn, a group of teens started a Luddite Club (no phones allowed, just face to face connecting). 

People are flocking to instructional videos that revive old-school traditions — like ​“How to serve a proper British tea” (with a kettle, not an instant-brew machine). 

Subway riders vandalized ads for an AI chatbot called Friend, which offers companionship without the effort of human interaction. I’ll never leave dirty dishes in the sink, one ad reads, but riders scribbled their own taglines: Human connection is sacred and Stop profiting off our loneliness.

Theology professor Brad East’s college course requires students to fast from digital technology for a whole month. It’s one of the most popular classes at the school. 

Is this silly nostalgia? Anti-capitalist idealism? 

I take it as a promising sign that people are hungry for a life that works — for wholeness and holiness, even if they wouldn’t use that language. And awareness is growing that modern technology isn’t giving us that kind of life.

Much has been said about the power of digital technology to hold our attention captive and make us anxious. But what about its ability to spoil our appetite for effort? 

Here’s what I mean.

Fast-gratification tech sets us on a spiritual path of least resistance. We may get what we want faster in the short term at the cost of the spiritual muscles needed for an obedience to Jesus in the long run. 

Following Christ takes effort. (Grace, as Dallas Willard liked to say, isn’t opposed to effort but opposed to earning.) Technologies that train us to habitually avoid hard things are spiritual poison. Listen to the words of Jesus: ​“The gate is narrow and the road is hard that leads to life, and there are few who find it” (Matthew 7:13- 14). 

We need a counterformation — a ​“training in godliness” (1 Tim. 4:7) — to override the way our instant society is forming our souls. 

As a picture of training for godliness in a hostile environment, I’m drawn to the biblical character Daniel (of lion’s den fame).

The story starts when Daniel and his Hebrew friends are exiled to Babylon and involuntarily enrolled in a program for rising stars in the King’s court. Their training regimen was set according to a Babylonian concept of success and administered by a guard, with harsh penalties for non-compliance. 

They couldn’t change the culture, but these young men courageously bucked the system with small acts of righteous rebellion — like refusing food from the king’s table. ​“Give us nothing but vegetables to eat and water to drink. Then compare our appearance with that of the young men who eat the royal food” (Dan. 1:12).

They opted out of the most convenient way to get ahead and, ironically, came out on top. ​“In every matter of wisdom and understanding about which the king questioned them, he found them ten times better…” (1:20). 

Carefully reviewing the technologies we use and opting out when it serves to strengthen our life with God is a tiny but potent rebellion — a refusal to conform to dehumanizing and deforming patterns. 

Whether that lands us in the lion’s den or at the top of the king’s court is unimportant. What matters is that we are training for the ultimate joy in this life and the next — communion with God and effortful participation in his kingdom.