Together they constitute a network of objects and gadgets within which we increasingly live and whose presence and stability in the modern world are evermore necessary to any form of life we might recognize or find acceptable. Work, therefore, is that aspect of human activity that creates and maintains our artifactual systems.
Action, in Arendt’s view, is that aspect of human activity that “goes on directly between men without the intermediary of things or matter ...” (Arendt, 1998, 7). I would make this point a bit more broadly. It is not as though activity necessarily does not involve the mediation of things and matter. Rather, action is that part of human activity which is distinct from such mediation. “Things” are what make up the artifactual world and “matter” is the substance of nature. Both things and matter can provide the means by which humans interact, but neither can constitute the content of that interaction, nor provide the ends that it serves. Action, thus, is that aspect of human activity out of and within which human systems are formed and endure.
All three kinds of systems also interact with one another, and the flourishing of one can depend on the stability of the others. Just as we can see the artifactual system of a garden fail when we ignore its needs as a natural system, so can we see technologies fail when we ignore the requirements of the human systems within which alone they can function. Likewise, the fact that a garden will revert all too quickly to jungle if its needs as an artifactual system are not met has parallels in the case of cities, organizations and technologies, each one of which has its own version of reverting to jungle. The character of our values cannot be obscured or offset by the character of our artifacts.
Human beings live within a network of systems of these three kinds. In the 21st century, the successful functioning of our ordinary daily lives, to say nothing of our prevailing under exceptional circumstances, is utterly dependent upon the flourishing and stability of these interdependent systems (Cook, 1995). In our day, the design and maintenance of this network of systems is, I believe, a prime moral responsibility of humankind, if for no other reason than that our very existence is now utterly dependent upon it.
Because different kinds of systems have different properties, including different requirements for sustenance and stability, dealing with one kind as if it were another can be anywhere from impractical to irresponsible. It is a conceptual and practical mistake, for example, to treat an artifactual or human system as if it were a natural one. Yet, this is often done. It is also the most dangerous form of mischaracterization of a system since it tends to occlude the role of values in the workings of artifactual and human systems. For example, I recently heard a noted economist remark that, “jobs, like water, naturally flow downhill to the cheapest provider.” Technically speaking, however, there is nothing “natural” about this at all. Economies and job markets are not part of nature, they are systems created by people. The way jobs “flow” is a result of how we design the artifactual systems they are part of. Treating this as natural leaves no basis for assuming responsibility for what it may entail.
Treating artifactual and human systems as natural ones, in particular, amounts to what I call “counterfeit naturalism.” If “naturalism” can be defined as understanding something in natural terms (lightning as being caused by weather conditions rather than by Zeus), then “counterfeit naturalism” would mean understand as natural something that is not, particularly when this can be misleading. In this respect, counterfeit naturalism entails at least two significant pitfalls bearing on our understanding of systems.
First, the more we engage in counterfeit naturalism, the more likely we are to diagnose problems and design solutions that may be appropriate to natural systems but not to artifactual or human ones. If we think of the flow of jobs to the cheapest provider as natural, it could make sense to design governmental policies aimed at avoiding interference with this “natural” process. (Indeed, this can even include a sense of “natural” standing in for “good” or “proper.”) However, if we think of this in terms of systems we have made, it could make more sense to consider policies designed to redirect or curtail that flow.
The second issue derives from the fact that we generally do not see ethics as part of natural systems. We may hold ourselves responsible for how we treat nature, but we do not find ethics at work within nature itself, particularly in any way that entails the notion of responsibility. No one holds hurricanes morally responsible for the damage they cause. We do, however, hold people morally responsible for what they do with the aid of tools or teams. So, counterfeit naturalism undermines our ability to deal responsibly and effectively with the ethical aspects of human and artifactual systems because it treats them as natural systems that, like hurricanes, have no obvious moral dimension. If the flow of jobs is taken to be a natural occurrence, it would make no more sense to debate the ethics of it than to debate the ethics of the tides.
This is also seen when we attempt to justify our design choices by making claims like “we are going with what works” or “my opponent’s plan won’t work.” Comments such as these point to the functional aspects of human and artifactual systems, but imply that, like natural systems, they are without a values dimension. Appealing only to the functional obscures the role that values play in shaping both the choices we make and the consequences of those choices. Our design choices are never solely about what will and will not work. They are also always about the aims we want to further and what we consider appropriate ways of pursuing them. Keeping the discussion at the level of what supposedly will and will not work misses, or dodges, the need to deal effectively with the values inherent in all design choices.
Just as natural systems can, and artifactual systems should, afford the purposes of human systems, human systems have what I call “values infrastructures” that inform the way we treat nature and how we design artifacts. A values infrastructure is made out of what is valuable to individuals and groups about themselves, the physical and social spaces within which they live and work, the various means that they employ to do what they do, and so on.
The connection between our values infrastructures and what we do is a strong one, though at times not acknowledged, as counterfeit naturalism suggests. What is valuable to you plays a significant role in what you consider worth doing, how you like to see it done, with whom you choose to associate, what goals you think are worth striving for, etc. (for a similar treatment, see Schein, 2004 [orig. 1985]). What we find valuable shapes what we do. (By definition, if values did not influence how we act, it would be odd to call them values.) That is, the design of a community’s artifacts both embodies and affords the expression of the values to be found in its values infrastructure. (Getting a sense of an individual’s or group’s values infrastructure can be tricky. I have found that if you ask people what their ethics or values are, they are often uncomfortable. However, if you ask what is valuable to them about their job or the spaces in which they live and work or their associations with other people, an interesting and useful conversation often ensues. And if they can show you, or you can observe examples of this in the course of their actual work practice or social interactions, the picture of the values infrastructure can become even more robust.)
The importance of values infrastructures to the design of technological artifacts and the social practices they are embedded in can be seen in the case of a project team I observed in a high-tech research and development laboratory. The team was designing an early computer conferencing application that could establish a network of “virtual offices” through audio and video connections along with the virtual equivalent of pieces of typical office equipment, such as a whiteboard, a filing cabinet, a book case, etc. A primary aim in the development of this application was making it possible for each user to design a virtual office, through his or her computer, by setting up and configuring audio and video links and organizing the virtual office equipment. Others in the network would then be able to “visit” the virtual office through the computer network, have meetings via the audio and video connections, while also consulting documents in the virtual filing cabinet or illustrating ideas on the virtual whiteboard, etc. When an office holder is out, a “visitor” could leave messages on the whiteboard, get documents from the filing cabinet. if permitted by the office holder, etc. (The “virtual” elements of such gadgets constitute a particularly provocative example of technological artifacts as “prosthetic.”)