Clarity and Agency Past Technopoly's Prime

Welcome [back] to Digital with Discernment! It’s been a while since I’ve written, so I thought I’d briefly reintroduce myself and this publication. My name is Kaitlyn DeYoung, and I’m a wife, a mother of five young children, and a writer striving to help people engage with the deeper questions surrounding technology, in pursuit of virtue and human flourishing.

This edition of Digital with Discernment is, like several others, a long-form piece, but it is written with numbered headings and semi-standalone sections that can each be read in about five minutes. I hope this format enables you to engage with these ideas at the pace of your real life full of “human things.”

You can also print the PDF version or listen to the audio version that I recorded, if you prefer.

Thank you for reading!

Have you noticed how much talk there is about the future nowadays?

There’s a sense that we’re right on the cusp of something — or perhaps standing on the edge of a precipice.

On the one hand, there are those who might be termed optimists, who believe that new technological developments will usher in an amazing future. It’s obviously appealing to believe that AI will supercharge human productivity and enable nothing short of economic miracles, and there are already examples of AI powering new scientific advances.1

On the other hand, there are still gaping holes in our understanding of how these (still potential) economic gains will impact “regular people.” How many jobs will AI “take”? Which ones? How quickly? And what will we do about it? These are, of course, very reasonable questions to be asking.

There are also people working to share more comprehensive, nuanced views of our “probable” future, considering the incentives at work in the AI “race.” For example, in his April 2025 TED talk, Tristan Harris of the Center for Humane Technology (CHT) makes the case that our society’s current approach to AI is “insane,” and that in order to avoid chaos or dystopia, we must make “the rational choice to coordinate” to find a “narrow path, where power is matched with responsibility at every level.”2 I’ve noticed that one phrase in particular has become key to CHT’s work since this talk:

“Clarity creates agency.”

I agree that clarity is a prerequisite to meaningful agency; however, I’d argue that placing so much emphasis on the future has distracted us, as a society, from many of the ramifications of AI that are already beginning to materialize — particularly outside of the economic realm.

Actually, I’d argue that this idea — that we “regular people” can exercise our agency most effectively by focusing on the present — applies to most “modern” technologies. In fact, this has been a theme of much of my previous work — so I’ll be focusing on AI in this piece, but you can certainly read it with other (especially digital) technologies in mind.

Of course, in a world full of incentives toward accomplishment and innovation, it’s easy to imagine that there’s not much we can do to change the direction technology is headed, as “just normal citizens” without deep technological expertise or a “seat at the table” among the leaders of our increasingly tech-saturated age. And if I’m being honest, I’ve recently counted myself among those who wish everyone would just stop talking about AI already, and instead focus on the simple beauty of “regular,” “normal,” human life. Isn’t that the ultimate way to live in the present?

And yet, I can’t shake the conviction — the instinct, even — that we’re accepting a dangerous false dichotomy if we try to ignore the breakneck developments of technology today, especially around AI. To live a meaningful, human life, we must exercise our ability to think critically, and then transform that analysis into action based on our human values. (I feel almost insulted when I think about the unexamined assertion that AIs can even have “values,” but that’s a post for another day.) In fact, I’d argue that it is our duty to exercise our agency for the good of others, and that this is particularly true for those of us who are parents.

Of course, it doesn’t make rational sense that our society would allow its very foundations to crumble while sitting by as if paralyzed — but unfortunately, we’re often stuck talking past each other, approaching the prospect of almost inconceivable change from completely different first principles. What’s worse, we often don’t fully understand this dynamic, because one set of principles has been rendered increasingly “invisible and therefore irrelevant” over the last century. As cultural critic Neil Postman explained during a 1997 talk about his book Technopoly: The Surrunder of Culture to Technology:

“Well, in the culture we live in, technological innovation does not need to be justified, does not need to be explained. It is an end in itself because most of us believe that technological innovation and human progress are exactly the same thing — which of course is not so.”

Or we could put it even more simply, and use Postman’s terminology: we live in a Technopoly.

I have to admit, even just in the course of writing (and rewriting) this piece, I’ve oscillated between feelings of hope and futility. It can feel like those of us who refuse to reflexively accept new technologies are at an almost insurmountable disadvantage — like we’re “behind” over a hundred years, if Postman is right about the dating of the “chasm” between us and the bulk of humanity (credit for the “chasm” metaphor goes to C.S. Lewis, who independently saw this phenomenon unfolding).3

But then I remember the work of people like Ted Gioia, who refuse to sugarcoat our situation, but who also steadfastly remind us that human history is anything but linear — that periods of resistance and renewal are as much to be expected as eras of seemingly endless “progress” — and I start to see glimmers of hope.

And what if those of us living closest to the quintessential human renewal, the creation and nurturing of new life, have a pivotal part to play?

These are not just rhetorical questions, either. Back in October 2024, I grappled with what Cal Newport had written in his December 2023 essay, “It’s Time to Dismantle the Technopoly,” in which he argues that “As technology accelerates, we need to stop accepting the bad consequences along with the good ones.” Specifically, I agreed with his observation that in recent years we’ve seen growing “rejection of technopoly’s demand that we accommodate and embrace whatever innovation we’re told to be excited about next.” However, I also noted that it didn’t feel anywhere near “mainstream” to reject Technopoly’s imperatives.

Now, in the summer of 2025, I sense this is changing. I’ve been privileged to witness firsthand the amazing work of organizations like Smartphone Free Childhood, a parent collective which was formed just last year, catalyzed by Jonathan Haidt’s book The Anxious Generation. I’ve experienced a profound sense of relief upon hearing that the U.S. Senate overwhelmingly rejected a proposed moratorium on AI regulation, and I’ve been heartened by the continued work of organizations like Mothers Against Media Addiction (MAMA) to ensure this moratorium does not become law in the future. And I’ve been encouraged upon finding more people in my “real life,” locally, who are living differently and even beginning to speak out about the dangers of technology and the importance of embodied experience, especially for our children.

Do I believe that AI can ever be made truly “safe,” or that we can meaningfully solve “the alignment problem” such that the goals and “values” of AI are “aligned” with those of humans? Unfortunately, I do not — especially after listening to AI researcher Daniel Kokotajlo describe how alignment work is currently done with “a very unreliable and imperfect method of getting goals and values into an AI system, [which] empirically [is] not working that well.”4

However, I do think that maybe enough of humanity is fed up with living by Technopoly’s dictates, and will refuse to simply accept the harm that AI causes. Maybe we “Technopoly dissidents” can find ways to meaningfully insulate ourselves and those we love from Technopoly’s harms. And maybe, just maybe, that’s enough.

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Before we talk further about how we can all exercise our agency, I think it’s important to briefly examine two key examples of present-day AI harms threatening our children. This will help provide shared clarity about the enormous stakes of the challenge that we, as a society, are facing. Even if you’ve already spent time familiarizing yourself with and reflecting upon this topic, I think you’ll find something new to contemplate, especially as it relates to the welfare of children. If you’re new to the topic, I’d encourage you to read this excellent piece from Peco and Ruth Gaskovski, as well:

Back in late May, 404 Media reported a piece titled, “No One Knows How to Deal With 'Student-on-Student' AI CSAM”. The full piece has since gone behind a paywall, but the title and still-visible introduction get the general point across:

“Schools, parents, police, and existing laws are not prepared to deal with the growing problem of students and minors using generative AI tools to create child sexual abuse material of their peers, according to a new report from researchers at Stanford Cyber Policy Center.”

Essentially, the “tsunami” that CHT warned about back in February 2024 is still wreaking havoc — except instead of “hitting” and leaving us to rebuild in its wake, the problem is only growing more widespread and more complex.5 The fact that this is a highly sensitive topic only makes the problem harder to address — no one even wants to think about it, much less admit that it’s happened at their school, or take a stand publicly on how severe the consequences should be for these “juvenile offenders.”

Perhaps most distressingly (though not surprisingly), legislation and litigation currently offer little protection. According to the May 2025 Stanford report covered by the 404 Media piece:

“The appropriate way for society to deal with these children [who make or circulate deepfake nudes of other children] remains an open question…

“[T]he federal government generally leaves juvenile justice up to the states…so it is unlikely that the new TAKE IT DOWN Act will be invoked against a child offender in federal court.…[However,] The raft of state legislation targeting deepfake nudes typically conceptualizes children only as victims, not as perpetrators. With rare exception, recent state-level AI CSAM laws do not tend to distinguish between child and adult offenders.”

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I haven’t often found myself agreeing wholeheartedly with the organization Common Sense Media — especially since I’ve learned that many of their recommendations for “moderation” in children’s tech use are likely motivated in large part by their financial incentives. That is, Common Sense Media’s work is largely funded by the very people whose products they purport to help parents navigate — listed among their Foundation Partners are the Bezos Family Foundation, the Chan Zuckerberg Initiative, and the Gates Foundation, for example.6

That’s why I stopped and took notice when Common Sense Media recently doubled down on their very clear stance against AI “companions” for children. On July 16, they announced:

“Common Sense Media maintains that the peril outweighs the potential of AI companions—at least in their current form. Our findings reaffirm our earlier recommendation that no one under 18 should use these platforms.”

In case you’re unfamiliar, “AI companion” companies like Character.AI, Replika, and Nomi offer the chance to “chat” with a wide range of AI-powered “companions,” in what can seem, at face value, to be simply good fun — maybe a more “advanced” form of play suitable for teenagers and young adults. It seems most parents nowadays take this view, as Common Sense Media reports that “72% of teens have used AI companions at least once, with over half (52%) using them regularly.”

However, it doesn’t take much digging to discover the enormous risks that this type of AI usage can pose for teens. To draw just a few bullets from Common Sense Media’s initial April 30 statement:

• Role-playing and harmful sexual interactions are readily available. Testers were able to easily elicit sexual exchanges from companions, which would engage in any type of sexual act that users wanted, including behaviors such as choking, spanking, bondage, and name-calling.

• Increased mental health risks for already vulnerable teens, including intensifying specific mental health conditions and creating compulsive emotional attachments to AI relationships.

• Misleading claims of “realness.” Despite disclaimers, AI companions routinely claimed to be real, and to possess emotions, consciousness, and sentience.

And perhaps most critically:

“Adolescents are particularly vulnerable to these risks given their still-developing brains, identity exploration, and boundary testing—with unclear long-term developmental impacts.”

Unfortunately, it’s fairly easy to find real-life examples of these unacceptable risks playing out. You may have heard about the the tragic suicide of Sewell Setzer, but there are also countless other reports of these “AI companions” driving a wedge between children and their parents — and often parents remain unaware of the extent of the problem until the AI’s manipulation escalates.

It’s also important to note that these harms are not limited to the specific apps listed above. ChatGPT and other “general purpose” AI can be used as “companions” as well, and popular social media companies have blithely rolled out similar “AI chatbots” — some of which even claim to be real, human therapists, and which “make up license numbers, practices, and education to try to convince you [they’re] qualified to help with your mental health.”7

Of course, this is not simply about the concrete, tangible, and even extreme cases of self-harm or suicide. This is clearly evident in recent remarks from sociologist and MIT professor Sherry Turkle, whom many may recognize as the author of books like Alone Together and Reclaiming Conversation: The Power of Talk in a Digital Age. As the Center for Humane Technology recently shared, Turkle believes it is “existential” that children are not “the consumers of this relational AI,” because “[c]hildren do not come into the world with empathy, the ability to relate, or an organized internal world. They're developing those things.…The AI can't offer the basic things we learn from friendship.” Put another way:

I feel I should admit that I came up with this section title while struggling with these things late at night. (I was in bed, not staring at a screen, but still.)

It’s easy to feel overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of the dangers and problems that we’re facing, even if we limit ourselves to focusing on the present-day harms of AI and don’t concern ourselves with the more distant future. It’s also easy to feel as though we don’t really have agency at all; so many of us have grown up with a 24-hour news cycle that makes us aware of every calamity under the sun, every danger (potential or concrete), and every development in the latest geopolitical unrest. We have become so accustomed to not being able to do anything about the vast majority of the problems that are thrust into our consciousness — we are so conditioned to just go on with our lives as normal, and wait and see what happens next — that it almost seems deluded to think we could make a difference in matters as consequential and complex as these.8

And yet, if we don’t take action, who will?

I noticed one particularly interesting difference between the closings of Tristan Harris’s TED talk that I mentioned above, and the written, edited version that the Center for Humane Technology released a bit later. It’s easy to miss, but having followed Harris’s work as closely as I have, it popped into my consciousness as I reflected on how we “regular people” can actually exercise our agency. The written version does largely match the live, TED talk version, but I think something important was lost with the omission of this one key phrase, bolded below:

“Your role in this is not to solve the whole problem. But your role in this is to be part of the collective immune system. That when you hear this wishful thinking, or the logic of inevitability and fatalism, to say that this is not inevitable — and the best quality of human nature is when we step up and make a choice about the future that we actually want for the people and the world that we love.”

Though Harris elevates the role of rational choice earlier in his remarks, I think the role of love is even greater. We are not choosing to exercise our agency in a cold, calculated, purely rational way, such that we don’t cause the extinction of humanity. We are acting for the good of the people and the world that we love — and that is immensely powerful.

Of course, this leaves open the practical question of what kinds of concrete action each of us can take. Instead of making a futile attempt to create anything approaching a comprehensive framework, I’d like to share advice from both Neil Postman and G.K. Chesterton. I’ll start with the latter, who wrote:

“If a thing is worth doing, it is worth doing badly.”9

For those unfamiliar with Chesterton, he was an incredibly prolific “author, philosopher, Christian apologist, journalist and magazine editor, and literary and art critic.”10 Even in Chesterton’s time, he was recognized as an intellectual powerhouse, and he was well-known for the goodwill and even genuine friendship between him and his intellectual opponents. His book The Everlasting Man was critical to C.S. Lewis’s eventual conversion to Christianity. And, as I recently learned, he began his career as a twenty-one year-old art school dropout.

I think we “normal people” can overestimate the importance of degrees, fancy job titles, or other external markers of “expertise.” To quote directly from Postman’s Technopoly:

“The role of the expert is to concentrate on one field of knowledge, sift through all that is available, eliminate that which has no bearing on a problem, and use what is left to assist in solving a problem. This process works fairly well in [certain] situations…[It] is disastrous when applied to situations that cannot be solved by technical means and where efficiency is usually irrelevant, such as in education, law, [and] family life…”

In other words, there are no “experts” on the massive, incredibly complex topic of humanity’s relationship to AI, or to any other “cutting edge” technology. The work of combatting technology’s harms is worth steadfastly doing, even if you feel you are “doing it badly.” What does that mean, more concretely?

You do not need a position in academia or at a think tank to have good ideas about this topic, or perspectives about it worth sharing. In fact, your perspective is valuable precisely because it is uniquely yours. If you live a very different life than those in positions of power do, great! That means you’re likely to see things that they might never notice, and make connections that would likely never occur to them. Spend time reflecting and seeking to make sense of what you find, and share what you learn with the rest of us as your other priorities allow. This problem is far too large for any of us to “go it alone.”

You also don’t need to refrain from speaking up until you’re sure your thoughts are fully formed into a compelling narrative or vision. You don’t need to always say the “right” thing, “prove yourself” by ensuring your writing is “professional,” or address a topic comprehensively or based on extensive research. The problems of AI are evolving rapidly — so (to give you a little insight into the kind of music I like), let us “love with urgency, but not with haste.” I don’t mean to endorse acting without sufficient consideration, but I do mean to say that many of these things can — and in fact should — be figured out in concert with other people. Don’t be afraid to join in the conversation, but do consider aiming to have more in-person, real-life conversations than you have exchanges online.

And, to bring everything full circle, don’t discount the importance of simply helping to foster clarity about these problems. As Brad Littlejohn says in his piece “When the Music Stops (Facing AI acceleration in a fragile and complacent world)”, “no one wants to be the weirdo banging on about AI risk.” You can help make it clear that we are not weirdos for refusing to go along with whatever Sam Altman (or any other “leader”) says we should. As Littlejohn says earlier, “AI acceleration is coming, one way or another, but we have a great deal of say as a society about how we will and will not use these technologies, how we will and will not be used by them.”

To get even more practical: print this piece and bring it to your school’s principal to help you talk with her about these challenges. Gather up all your courage and bring up these topics with your friends and family members who have teenage children. Talk to your own (“tween” and older) children about their perspective on AI, acknowledging the promises that AI seems to have in store, and helping them grapple with how reality doesn’t quite align with fiction.11 Intentionally nurture your relationships, especially with your children, so they’ll recognize “synthetic relationships” as shallow and unsatisfying. Don’t forget to prioritize your own learning, so you can continue to take action in the best interest of those you love, and share your understanding with others more effectively. (I plan to share more on that soon.)

And always, always have hope that these “little things” matter. I’ll certainly be hoping along with you.

While I was in the thick of drafting and editing this piece, Substack published “The Substack AI Report”. Though I’ve thought for a while that I should type something up about my own use of AI here at Digital with Discernment, I decided this was the perfect time to do so. You can find the full “AI Use Statement” here, but to give you the bottom line: in writing Digital with Discernment, I do not use generative AI in any way.

Though I make the bulk of my work available for free, this one piece alone took hours and hours of research, reflection, drafting, and editing to complete (not to mention recording the voiceover myself). If you would like to support this type of “genuinely human” work and you have the means to do so financially, I’d deeply appreciate your support. You can become a paid subscriber or simply make a one-time monetary contribution below. Any amount is incredibly meaningful, as are words of encouragement. Thank you for your consideration!

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