A Critique of ‘Excuse Culture’
Not subscribing to popular technology immediately set me apart from my peers.
In classrooms, I often feel the other-ness of having a “hot take” on a topic that is generally unspoken. I got a flip phone over a year and a half ago, and quit social media years before that. The most frequent reaction is “why?”. QR codes, navigation, music streaming platforms, social media, text (and almost never call) —among other expectations— sit comfortably within the bounds of social normalcy.
The moment I stepped away from the group, I began to roam the earth as if with another bright red dog tag that read “IMPROPER” around my neck. Non-conformity is a rarity, and although at times I shy away, I have learned to embrace it.
I feel as though every day, I am a walking podium for excuses. The most common response is simply, “I don’t have the time.” When I speak critically of unethical product manufacturing, such as Apple’s use of cobalt mines that have a history of using child labor, people immediately recoil in surprise and grow flustered at what they interpret to be a personal attack directed at them. When I mention minimalism, people attempt to shoot down the idea that anyone can be a minimalist. When I receive a call, my phone comes out and the reasons why someone else has not “made the flip” are full of objections I can usually address on the spot. I find that my lifestyle, as well as those of many others affiliated with “The Luddite Club” and aligned causes, make people simultaneously thoughtful and uncomfortable.
We live in a culture of excuses. When we do not want to do something, we discard the idea with “I don’t have the time”, or “That’s not important”. Technology aside, hobbies are going out of style. More and more people are pursuing careers purely for the money, and there is a general lack of passion for life. Not all excuses are bad, but when our lives are swarming with them, it is worth asking if they are excuses or reasons.
I keep returning to the question: what is important, and what is worth your time? I am sure the answer is ever-changing, as is my own. In simple terms, the things that I feel are worthy of my time right now are: spending time with the people I love, doing work for causes I care about, being alone and in thought, reading and watching long-form content, and creating things. I urge others to consider their list, and compare it to what they actually do in a day.
I, alongside many others, am living proof that it is possible to take “the scenic route” in life. We are the Luddite Club: a movement to actively resist technological takeover and compliance with Big Tech’s agenda, among whatever other labels you’d like to attach.
Every navigational attempt, every song, every text, and every other digital thing becomes more difficult, and at times, impossible for us to access. And I love it. Doing things in life is no longer a question of convenience: if I want something I must make it happen, otherwise it won’t. I make the time to find the ethical versions of the products I truly need, because I do not wish to make excuses.
I do not want to proclaim myself a social activist while having Apple devices and buying the newest ones every year despite its reliance on unethical labor. I do not want to say I “love” any artist if I refuse to unsubscribe from Spotify, which robs artists of compensation. I do not want to claim that I love animals while continuing to eat them daily. I do not believe moral purity is necessarily the goal; however I do believe genuine action that aligns with a person’s morals is important. The concept of the “Banality of Evil,” which was coined by Hannah Arendt, speaks to this idea. Arendt wrote of how the true evil in society is being complacent with immoral actions that are normalized in day-to-day life. If we apply this to the complacency many of us feel about the ethics of our choices, it re-frames our fixed positions for what they are.
There are so many contradictions day-to-day; and yet, I find that in our society most of these contradictions are rarely called out. Convenience is the name of the game, and all else is “too hard”. Ease is normalized, and morality is rare. I do not think that telling people “you’re not doing anything, you’re a bad person” is going to be the answer. However, I do think that we can create a culture that values and normalizes ethical choices. Change may start small, but if a lot of people do it, it means the world.
The most common excuse I hear is: “All platforms are unethical, there’s nothing I can do.” To this, I respond that not all platforms are bad, and even if they were, some are usually better than others. An easy example is: would you rather that an artist you enjoy gets paid a penny or a dollar? Since I suspect the answer is the latter, the next question is: what is your “reason” for using Spotify? Eight dollars a month on Spotify is ownership of eight albums on Nina Protocol (a smaller, free streaming service, where you can buy albums in mp3 form). In reality, there are not that many new products and services you have to buy on a day-to-day basis. The idea of “burning out” due to too much examination reveals something about how many things an individual claims to need versus how many they truly do.
When did our culture enable such easy disengagement? I’m not sure, and I’m not certain it matters. What I do know is that I’d rather walk around with my red dog tag than take it off for the sake of convenience. If that makes me improper, I’m learning to live with it — and I think you could too.
Lucy is an Executive Officer for ‘The Luddite Club’. She is particularly interested in the environmental and social impacts of big tech and social media on humanity and the planet.