"Men did not need power tools to build the Mexican pyramids of Teotihuacán or the Philippine rice terraces of Ibagué" ... but they did need power tools to erect the Bristol Airport "Multi faith" area. - Ivan Illich, Tools for Conviviality1
I saw a vision in the night as I slept, a terror to behold. A vision of what is to come, or is already here, “Coming to a town near you”.
A voice, long, forlorn, spoke to me out of a thick black cloud saying: “Behold, behold — the end of man is his raw and brutal efficiency”. Then at once, out of the cloud emerged a temple — a ghastly Structure built to debase the sacred, dull the holy motive, destroy the virtuous impulse. Again the voice cried out: “Behold, the Structure, the wretched, lifeless Structure — this is the output of man, modern man, with all his tools and artificial resources. His tools of great energy and power and his artificial resources — of plastic and of metal — obtained from pillage and destruction, all coalesced into one hideous Structure — a grotesque testament to the Age of Efficiency.”
And this, dear reader, is what I saw:
The vision continued, and this time I turned and saw an army of men arrayed in florescent yellow jackets with white hard hats as helmets. In their hands were the weapons of the modern age: power drills, spirit levels, and pneumatic drills. I watched as they marched out all over the land, sent forth to erect a multitude of Structures —temples to efficiency — in the car parks, public spaces, and town centres up and down the land. Unstoppable in their vanity, cruel and calculated with their efficiency.
I cried and wept as the Structures were erected, for there was no one to stop them, no one to halt the “Progress”, no one to pause, consider, reflect — and desist . Instead, the scrolls were unravelled and their 12 pt Calibri was earnestly proclaimed: “The planning was contented by the Secretary of State for Progress and Efficiency and the budget fully costed and approved — make way for the modern!”. I wept as the ancient, the good, and the beautiful were torn down to make way for the Structures — the wretched modern structures — the temples of efficiency.
Suddenly, the vision changed. I found myself standing outside a cathedral, its magnificent spire, glistening in the golden evening light, pointing up to the Heavens. The beige-coloured stones, carved by ancient hands and weathered by the feet and hands of the faithful, bore testament to the virtue and ingenuity of their “primitive” designers and builders. And from my anxious frame, a sigh of relief came forth, that beauty and splendour, magnificence and grandeur still were to be found. But as I stood, lost in thankfulness and in wonder, I heard the dreaded, regimented marching of steel toe cap boots, followed by the whining and unending din of the power drill and welder — and the subsequent silent, sterile perfection of the spirit level.
I cried aloud “How can this be!” “How have we become so full to the brim of vanity and saturated with profanity to plant a Structure so desolate, repulsive, and unsightly in the shadow of magnificence and splendour? Can we not see? What, just what, have we become?”
And then the voice, softly, and simply, whispered with solemn finality: “This, my friend, is the End. The eternal folly of modern man — the folly of efficiency diligently pursued.”
Addition my own.
You have written my current horror. The pulling down of old Dublin and its replacement by soulless multi story steel and glass hideousness. They march through the old Georgian areas, filling the sky with their unloveable ugly presence so overwhelming that it is impossible to ignore them.
They oppress my spirit. I am brought low in their presence. I always want to escape as quickly as I can.
This is some of the best writing you’ve ever done.