Before starting my MBA at MIT Sloan last fall I worked as a strategy consultant exclusively serving technology and telecommunications clients. Although I flirted with an early career in non-profits and international development, working close to the technology industry was, in many ways, an inevitability for me.
As a hopeless technophile and unapologetic geek from before I can even remember, it was not long before my love for consuming and using technology was converted into a fascination for the powers behind the curtain. As I edged closer to the beginning of my professional life, I believed strongly that technology was quite possibly the single greatest multiplier of individual human effort, and thus the best path for creating lasting impact.
My time in consulting allowed me to keep close to ambitious technological solutions and their enablers, but it also soon became the source of a great internal struggle. As I reflected on the world that we (the consultants) and our clients (technology companies) were trying to build, it was difficult to escape some bitter truths.
As my wife (who conveniently happens to be pursuing a PhD on the impact of digital technologies on labor markets) is always quick to remind me, the Management Consulting industry has been a fundamental enabler of the short-sighted, modular, techno-solutionism that is at the core of this course. Consultants have historically taken a very narrow definition of operational and strategic efficiency; pursuing it as an end in itself with little regard for its eventual human cost.
The “objective” pursuit of metrics and optimization has allowed for a conscious disassociation of design choices from any eventual negative consequences. From the pursuit of better ad click-through rates at Facebook leading to lax data standards and manipulation, to Amazon and UPS’s use of draconian measures of productivity taking a significant toll on their employees’ psychological and physical well-being.
In addition, the push for “technology adoption” today is presented essentially as virtue (not much unlike the push for capitalism and free markets not too long ago). But for me, “technology adoption” is simply a term for developing and using more scientifically sophisticated ways of doing things. As an abstract concept it is effectively neutral; what differentiates the good from the bad is the nature of its implementation. But by talking about “technology” in this generalized way we force a categorization of people into being either techno-skeptics or techno-idealists. In reality, the critiques of most “skeptics” are rooted in the specific context and nuances of a specific implementation.
Engaging with these shades of cynicism, however, has not dampened my belief that technology can, and should be a positive change agent in the world. But it has helped me appreciate that the path to success is far more complicated than simply “making the best tech”. What problem you choose to solve (and how you formulate it) is often far more important than simply solving it.
Like many of my classmates, I too am looking for a path to the “valley beyond” through this course. I do not expect any easy answers or frameworks, but at the very least I hope to leave equipped with the ability to both articulate my concerns and evangelize the need for greater empathy and responsibility in technology design choices and decisions.