The wonders of modern life

Every time I board an airplane, I am simply amazed that these heavy objects can fly.  And fly at five miles above the ground.  And fly without stopping even for 18 hours at a stretch, as was the case from Los Angeles to Singapore or Bangkok or Dubai. 

When I tell my students that modern human achievements have resulted from brain power, as opposed to the brawn of the past, I doubt if even one really understands and appreciates that. 
Which is why I liked this short essay (ht) about how much humans were in awe of machines until very recently:

Today, we no longer approach our many machines with awe; in fact, the more personalized and individualized our machines have become, the less humility we feel in using them. No longer the large, rare dynamos of Adams's day, our machines are often portable and are such a central part of our everyday lives that we barely notice their presence. Rather than awe-inspiring symbols of man's power, they are merely extensions of ourselves, like the cell phone that helps us communicate or the microwave that speeds the cooking of our dinner.

While I don't care much for the backer of the publication (The Templeton Foundation,) I resonate a lot with the final comments in that essay:

The decline in humility toward our machines comes at a time when we know almost nothing about how or why they work. Although overwhelmed by its power, Henry Adams nevertheless had a basic understanding of how the dynamo operated. Most of us know very little about how our laptop computers run or how to repair our washing machines. Today we are less likely to feel awe in the presence of our machines than we are to experience what historian Jacques Barzun called "machine-made helplessness." This, too, is a form of blind faith, ...
The awe experienced by earlier generations was part of a different worldview, one that demonstrated greater humility about many things, not least of which concerned their own human limits and frailties. Today we believe our machines allow us to know a lot more, and in many ways they do. What we don't want to admit - but should - is that they also ensure that we directly experience less. Updating your Facebook page is a lot easier than venturing out into the world to confront a dynamo, as Adams did. But it is also, in the end, likely to be a lot less awe-inspiring.

The comment about how we don't know anything about the very gadgets we use reminds of the essay, "I, Pencil" that is often quoted by libertarians on the power of the free market. 
Thankfully, my Marxist and Socialists faculty colleagues are not into technology and, definitely, do not read this blog.  Else, I will be in more trouble for even referring to I, Pencil :)