Are You Mechanically Challenged?
October 21, 2013
My printer has a mind of its own, I swear. Literally. I swear and swear at it. I even threaten it. Still it refuses to behave. So I slap it a few times. Then I burst out laughing. If cursing out a misbehaving child would never work, just what made me think that it might work for a machine? If violence has never solved problems in human relationships, why would it on inanimate objects? Yet I am not alone in having a dysfunctional relationship with mechanical objects that are designed to make my life more relaxed. DVD players, cable boxes, dishwashers, even faucets and sockets can completely reduce otherwise intelligent and sane adults into hysterics.
One member of my family (who shall remain nameless), while attempting to hang a picture on a wall, famously banged a nail through the gas line. We were without the use of our gas stove for a week. He could negotiate with anyone when it came to business, but anything the least bit mechanical was a no deal.
It is not his fault. Nor mine. Sure, I could easily blame genetics for my disability and shell out hard cash to the professionals to fix things for me, but I am too cheap for that (which really is genetic). Nor do I subscribe to this idea that it is because some people are right-brained (artsy) and others are left-brained ( mathematical). This couldn’t be it because we can find brain surgeons who turn into Inspector Clouseau when assembling a simple Ikea bookshelf.
Besides, something emotional is preventing me from giving up on that printer. It feels as though I am putting down an aging pet who can no longer control its bladder. I feel sorry for the thing. It occurred to me, why not treat it as yet another dysfunctional relationship I need to renegotiate? Surely, can’t the printer be fixed with a little attention and a whole lot of care?
I recognize that the source of my frustration is that I expect non-sentient things to be predictable. To my way of thinking, because machines have no emotions, no feelings, therefore they have no right to be temperamental. But physics would disagree.
Machines are made from metal. And metal has stress, it suffers from tension, it expands and shrinks with the temperature. It behaves differently in the presence of foreigners, no matter how minute, such as dust. In other words machines have every right to be sensitive.
This is something I had failed to respect about them. While I have dedicated much of my life to being responsive to the sensitivity of animals, plants and of course people, I had discounted the sensitivity of machinery. Who knew? I have been a life-long machine bigot.
It has taken me a long while to appreciate that the answer to my frustration with machines lies in my very expectation about them. I expect them to be predictable. They are. They need to be treated in the same particular way for each and every use. They have no capacity to adapt to my moods, or my urgency. They cannot be pressured into working faster because I need it printed yesterday. The paper has to be feed precisely with the same pressure, at the exact same angle each and every time. I think those who negotiate successfully with machines have learned a kind of zen of machinery. In their presence such people maintain an equipoise. Hence machines obey their commands.
I don’t think I was far off the mark in anthropomorphizing machines. I just never took the metaphor far enough. Just as people respond best when you listen well to them, so do machines. And to listen well you need to be silent within yourself during your interaction. Ditto with machines.
Let me go and rescue my printer from the recycle bin. We deserve to give our relationship another chance.