The Burdens of Speed

Life is getting faster - but at what cost?

Photo by Florian Steciuk on Unsplash

“[Speed] is the form of ecstasy the technological age has bestowed on man.” - Milan Kundera.

The modern world has brought about a revolution of speed. One cannot miss noticing just how fast life has become. Speed is now intertwined into pretty much every area of our lives: From the car out on the road transporting you to the next town at 70 mph, to the jet plane transversing the Atlantic in hours. A microwave oven heats food in minutes, and a machine can chop, strip, and dump a tree (which once was a symbol of stability and permanence) in a mere instant. Phenomena such as fast food, fast fashion, and fast-track (read next-day) delivery are expected and demanded norms. Woe betides the seller who is slow on delivery! We collectively clobber him with negative reviews even if the product is perfect.

This revolution has been a long time in the making and pinpointing an exact starting point is challenging. Certainly one could say the wheels of the revolution started turning in the Industrial Revolution when machines such as the Spinning Jenny emerged — dramatically speeding up work. Or one could say the arrival of the personal automobile was the moment speed became accessible to all. But I would argue it is in the last 50 years that the true revolution of speed began, with the ascendancy of this revolution being extremely rapid. For it is during this period that something emerged which took our desires and capacities for speed to heights unknown and which could itself increase in its speed year on year at a seemingly logarithmic rate. It was the widespread arrival of something Wendell Berry wouldn’t touch with a barge pole — the computer.

Digital speed

The digital revolution which the computer enabled has taken our love of speed and efficiency one giant leap further. Broadband speeds now verge on the instantaneous, enabling instant communication with almost anyone in the world (part of the phenomenon of ‘global shrinkage’). Our ever-switched-on society lives and breathes instant messaging (and instant replying), and productivity rates in almost all industries have gone through the roof via the improvements and innovations the computer has brought about.

But there is a catch.

The increases in efficiency and speed brought about by mechanisation and computer-based processes have vastly enhanced our society’s consumptive capacity — initiating a vicious circle. Economic prosperity (in our neo-classical growth paradigms) and indeed company survival is now fundamentally dependent on our consumptive desires not just never abating, but growing more and more — even if our consumption of resources reaches wholly unsustainable proportions (which it already has). The ‘Growth Machine’ demands constant feeding — and our forests, mines, attention spans¹, and diminishing savings are its food. We have coupled our economies and societies so closely to efficiency and speed that the survival of our modern society now depends on ever-increasing rapidity and growth — just watch what happens when the market detects a slowdown in growth or a company fails to deliver on its promises of increased speed. For ever-increasing speed to occur, the invasive dynamic and processes of speed need to infiltrate previously untouched areas of our societies, lives, and cultures (but that is for another essay).

It is worth now pausing (a rare occurrence in our fast-paced lives) and taking time to consider some of the broader effects of our addiction to speed. The eminent danger in a revolution which rapidly befalls us is that it leaves little time to adjust to the new norms, nor the time to critically reflect and review how best to engage or resist such changes and what effects they likely will have. A rapid revolution can knock you off your feet, leaving you disorientated with no choice but to go with the cultural flow. This makes it all the more necessary to identify some of the effects of our addiction to speed and the power it gives us (or more likely, takes away from us).

The most modern of virtues

Firstly, in normalising speed we have unconsciously and unreflectively defined it as a modern-day virtue. A virtue is a normative, essential, and integral feature of the good and moral life. Defining something as a virtue is a monumental declaration — it is a proclamation that this is the right way. Such a declaration should only be made after serious collective thought, critique, and testing (or an appeal to a higher Authority than humanity). But just as a mindset of speed leads to rash decisions, so has our collective/societal “fast-paced mindset” rapidly and rashly bestowed the title of virtue on speed. There has been no formal declaration — for then we might realise our folly. Instead, humanity’s addiction to speed and our integration of it into all facets of our lives has meant we have subconsciously bestowed this ultimate title on speed, for speed has become what we all expect, what we all demand, what we all desire, and what we all think is good.

It is now polite, even expected, to respond immediately to a message; it is demanded that for transport to get us from A-B as quickly as possible; non-human checkout counters and automated processes are preferable; it is expected that our tasks and jobs are done hyper-efficiently — and we are richly rewarded when we do. In the business world, to be called “quick” is a coveted compliment, whereas the label “slow” is an almost universal derogatory remark.

Not only does speed falsely claim for itself the label of virtue but when embraced, it insidiously erodes true and time-tested virtues. Patience withers in an environment where speed is expected. Deliberation and thoughtfulness are abandoned. Wisdom is neglected and ignored. Instead, speed trumps them all, and is one of many the reasons modern man is often deficient in virtues.

Unnatural and destructive

Speed, being a modern “invention”, is in one sense “unnatural”. Before mechanical time was invented (there is nothing natural about seconds, minutes, or hours — these are defined and created by the clock), speed was hard to define and impossible to quantitatively measure. Natural rhythms were determined by the sun, and by extension, the sun’s Creator. Such rhythms as the sun’s rising and setting and the pattern of the seasons were characterised by slowness, long cycles, and imperceptibility. Time was governed, it seemed, by different rules and a wholly foreign pace of life dominated the lives of our ancestors.²

Examples of this way of life remain to the present day. All we have to do is go outside and take a walk in nature where it is enlightening to witness just how rare speed is in the natural world, in its cycles, and its rhythms. Yes, there are species that can move at a phenomenal speed — but these rapid movements are confined to the rare dramas of life and death — times when speed is indeed a virtue and a downright necessity. When the lion strikes, speed is the antelope’s best friend. In contrast to these rare moments, the normal pace of nature is slow and steady. Trees and plants grow imperceptibly. Landscapes take generations to form. The water cycle runs its slow course. It is well known that when a plant grows too quickly it makes itself vulnerable and weak — its stem is not strong and is susceptible to being blown over in the wind. Slow and steady growth is essential to its health — a truth the modern-day farmer armed with his rapid-growth fertilisers is apt to forget.

The good farmer, however, is well aware of the slow pace of creation, and his need to work with slowness and not against it. If his crops grow too quickly, he will pay the price when the wind gales howl. If he tries to speed up processes of growth, formation, and maturity he will find himself running again the grain and rhythm of creation — and will necessarily reap destruction. Putting fast processes onto our farms is to introduce to them a foreign and destructive force — a force that leaves soils degraded, eroded, and compacted; crops that are bent at the stem, flavourless, and defenceless to pests; and livestock suffering a panoply of welfare issues.

We have all forgotten that if we introduce a foreign agent into our agricultural spaces and force our fields and beasts to do what they were not designed to do, they will eventually collapse or rebel. The land which suffers from our abuses of speed no longer has the capacity (or the “will”, if that phrase can be used) to care and provide for us and instead needs to be treated with modern medicines of pesticides and fertilisers. But like chemotherapy which keeps a cancer patent alive (and hopefully cures) but is toxic to the body, the overuse and reliance on these agrochemicals is toxic to the land and surrounding ecosystems. What we are left with is a degraded and damaged land — unfit for future generations, and a testament to our failure of stewardship.

Our agricultural landscapes are far from the only landscape that has been exposed to the ruinous consequences of speed. Our rainforests are disappearing so quickly that it beggars belief and we consume natural resources at rates which far exceed their rate of replenishment. Rivers have become straightened increasing their flow and frequency of flooding. Cars and roads cut through landscapes resulting in huge quantities of road kill, including the great numbers of insects that used to coat the paintwork of our cars.³ Everywhere we look the ruinous consequences of speed blight our green and "pleasant" lands.

False accounting

Time is indeed a precious commodity — it is the ultimate limitation. We cannot make time, we can only use it up. Saving time is a misnomer, it cannot be stored, even if the advertising for time-saving devices begs to differ. We are well aware of this limitation, one of the most common complaints of the modern man is “I don’t have enough time” — which sadly is usually shorthand for, “I don’t have enough time to do all that the modern hyper-efficient society leads me to believe I need to do.”.

Rather than judging our use of time by how much we get done, we should think how well we have used our time for quality, not quantity. Quality may mean many hours spent in contemplation and development with perhaps little to physically/materially show at the end of the day to ourselves, others (or donors!). But there will be much gain to our maturity. Good wine takes years to mature, and so does human character and skill. Time taken out of our busy schedules to develop, mature, and grow is time well spent indeed. So pick up a good book, stare outside the window, or practice those skills once again — it is worth it.

We all believe time-saving devices will save us time, but we never stop to think if this is actually true. If we did, the uncomfortable reality that would greet us is by and large, time-saving devices have increased our capacity to waste time rather than use it well. Time is immaterial. It can only be used in one of two ways: well or wasted. Time can never be “saved”, it cannot be stored up for future use. Yes, time-saving devices allow us more time for other pursuits, but the very nature of the efficiency and speed on which time-saving devices operate can degrade our capacity and ability to use the “saved” time well. Our use of efficacy and time-saving puts us in the loci and habitus of rashness, hurry, and triviality. No wonder we are mentally tired at the end of fast-paced work, full of machines which purported to “save us time”. We have been working at high mental velocity, and our minds become accustomed to this pace while at the same time degrading our ability to slow down, rest, and steward our attention spans. It is difficult to slow down and think after such fast-paced episodes, or to contemplate beauty — which may require more mental capacity than we realise. Instead, we turn to the mind-numbing quick thrills of social media (or worse) and waste away our time.

But it would be foolish to argue that time-saving devices are all bad or haven’t freed up some time that we can use well. Washing machines, dishwashers, electric drills, tractors, and more all indeed “save” time which we can use to play with our children, read a book, pray, or go for a walk. But, if we are honest with ourselves, do we do such things in the time we save? Or do we rather scroll through social media? And then what have these “time-saving” devices taken away from us? Time for contemplation by the kitchen sink window, the sense of a job well done, and physical work that has the strange habit of refreshing the mind. Time-saving devices may give us much, but they also take away precious moments too.

Lessons from Wisdom

We need role models of slowness in our modern fast-paced age, men and women who are not afraid to go against the flow, remain in the slow lane, and who have mastered the art and virtue of slow, well-paced, and thoughtful living. Two names come to mind, one ancient and one modern, one well-known and one obscure. One a person and one a culture — but both with much to teach.

One of the many countercultural aspects (at least to modern times) of Jesus’ life was how infuriatingly slow He could be. “Lazarus has died come quickly!” — yet He remained where He was two days longer. “You have a world to save!” — yet He worked for 30 years in obscurity. “Show yourself to the world!” His disciples cried — yet He replied “My time has not yet come.”.

Jesus never seemed in a hurry, never rushed, never short of time, so why are so many of His followers characterised by worry, hurry, and burnout? Are we neglecting to acknowledge that part of Jesus’ calling is for us is that we journey on the long, slow, and winding road where “plodding” is the set pace? Or that a fundamental part of dying to self is to put out speed-addicted ways behind us? Discipleship and spiritual formation are antithetical to speed simply because the desired result of discipleship is mature Christlikeness. You would be hard-pressed to find words that greater encapsulate the polar opposite of speed and hurry than maturity and Christlikeness. But Oh how the western man tries his hardest to fast-track maturity! Our African brothers and sisters have something to tell us if only we will listen.

“Slowly, slowly” was a constant refrain I heard from coastal Kenyans during my brief three weeks stay a few years ago, a community of people known regionally for their slow and leisurely pace of life. Little did I realise at the time that far from being merely a frustrating phrase to western ears, these twice-repeated words contained more wisdom than all contemporary pop management and self-help books combined. They remind us that the fast-paced life is not normative or historically grounded. It is a modern invention that can claim responsibility for our sea of burnout anxious workers, landscapes of environmental degradation, and decimated attention spans. If only I had heeded the African wisdom at the time. If only we all did.

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1. Our attention is so important to economic growth, social media, advertising, and entertainment all desperately want to capture our attention so that they can grow all the more powerful and all the more profitable.

2. For more on this, see this excellent essay:

Time unweaved

3. That is until their numbers catastrophically declined - another tragedy of the modern era.