Technology and the Deadly Sin of Pride

The Deadly Sin of Pride

 The doctor would not believe her. My daughter experienced a variety of illnesses over several years, never feeling quite well. It was more than simple colds or flu, affecting different areas of her body. Sometimes the pain was in her jaw area, leading her to suspect it was related to her teeth in some way. You might think that because the pain was also present in other areas far from her mouth, her suspicions were thus unfounded.  However, my own dentist has a chart in the lobby exclaiming that your dental health impacts the health of your whole body -- so this idea was not entirely unreasonable. She went to several physicians and a couple dentists, trying to get an accurate diagnosis. Each time the medical professional did a cursory exam or ran a simple test, concluding that her symptoms were temporary and unrelated, ending with a prescription for painkillers. The physicians chose progressively more aggressive drugs over the course of multiple visits. My daughter, believing this was simply treating the symptom rather than the cause, resisted taking the strong painkillers. She was even put in the position of needing to question the danger of addiction when a doctor pushed to give her opioid-based medications. She repeatedly and persistently asked if they shouldn’t look closer to determine the underlying problem. Instead, they applied band-aid solutions that obscured the real issue and provided only temporary relief with the potential for serious side-effects. Her voice went unheard and her struggle to get someone to look closer, in order to obtain an accurate diagnosis, was all to no avail over multiple years.

As an ordinary patient with no special clout, my daughter’s voice wasn’t heard. Yet downplaying or downright dismissing the voice of the patient is not just an injustice experienced by the less powerful of our society. Even someone with the influence of fame and wealth can experience this treatment -- actress Selma Blair reported that doctors did not take her seriously as she complained about various health issues, until she finally was properly diagnosed with multiple sclerosis (https://www.goodmorningamerica.com/culture/story/selma-blair-opens-tears-relief-ms-diagnosis-61310469  ).  It seems that there is something characteristic about the medical profession that makes it easy to dismiss the ideas of the patient, regardless of who they are or what they have done. Of course, not all medical professionals ignore their patients. Dr. Paul Kalanithi writes eloquently about how he listened carefully to his patients as a practicing neurosurgeon in his book When Breath Becomes Air. However, the book is even more poignant when Kalanthi turns to his experience not as a doctor, but as a patient -- he died of lung cancer and the book was published posthumously, with a tear-jerker afterward by his wife. Kalanthi found that even his voice, as a physician, was depreciated or even politely dismissed as soon as he took on the status of patient. 

These patients were persistent. Yet their medical caregivers were too sure of themselves, too certain of their expertise to bother with the suggestions or concerns of the patient, too quick to presume the patient had nothing of importance to contribute, and too wary that extra tests would result in extra paperwork and the displeasure of the insurance company. Some of these reasons can be traced to underlying problems such as overwork, or sins such as greed. Sometimes the cause for this troublesome behavior is the sin of pride.

A medical professional takes pride in their work, and to some degree this is proper and worthy of respect. However, when pride in one’s work slips into pride in one’s self, it become sinful, egotistical, self-aggrandizement. The doctor becomes God in their own eyes; the patient becomes a servant that should worship them, instead of a neighbor in need of love. Pride can blind the physician to their own failings. It will narrow their thinking so that they filter all conversations and all new information based on how well it bolsters their own narcissistic narrative. Their expertise leads to pride; pride leads to their downfall.

Engineers can succumb to pride just as easily. They are also experts -- in technology rather than medicine, with users, rather than patients. Their technological expertise can easily lead to arrogant pride, a smug assumption that one’s own wisdom outweighs the insights from anyone else. Engineers can become so egotistical that they hardly listen to the users of their technological products, blaming “user error” instead of taking responsibility for non-intuitive designs, or pretending a product is “ahead of its time”, instead of admitting it was not well received. Prideful engineers become blinded to their mistakes so that they do not take proper precautions. In contrast, humility would persuade engineers to seek designs for their product that avoid single points of failure or that have built-in self-checks. Humility would persuade engineers to embrace peer review and testing to shake out all of the bugs in their software. Pride in one’s technology design can lead to failures that humility would have avoided.

The designers of technology are not the only ones tempted by pride. All of us using technology are also vulnerable to this sin: when we purchase it, use it, and rely on it. Although sins such as gluttony or envy might drive us to purchase technology, pride also lurks around our technology shopping cart. Pride can drive us to purchase gadgets we do not truly need but simply desire, as a display of wealth and power. If you purchased technology that is highly visible, such as a sports car or the latest smartphone, did you purchase it for functionality or for status?  Once purchased, technology can also be the instrument by which we communicate further prideful boasting. Pride easily slips into our Facebook posts, in our LinkedIn profiles, and even on our bumper stickers. Pride can also result from trusting in our technology instead of God. The amplifying power of technology makes us more powerful and this power easily seduces us into pride in ourselves. Psalm 20 calls us to keep our trust in the Lord, not our tech: “Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the Lord our God.”

What happened with my daughter? Fortunately, she did not give up.  She went back to the doctor. She went to a second doctor. She went back to her dentist. She went to a second dentist. Finally, the second dentist took a closer look realizing that an X-ray might not show everything they needed to see. And there it was: a large, menacing abscess. Here was the poison that had been making her ill for years. Here was the source of her pain.  A root canal done five years earlier had blocked the root, leaving her open to infection. He sent her for emergency surgery at an endodontist, who quickly drained the infection and later did a corrective surgery. The infection had worked all the way to her jawbone and will take a while to heal. But now that the source of the problem has been identified and eradicated, she will heal.

We are thankful for her persistence and thankful for a diagnosis and treatment. At the same time, we are frustrated that she had to work so hard to be heard, frustrated that the medical professions were too busy or too proud to listen. Before I throw too many stones for bad practice, as a technological expert I need to recognize the glass house I live in myself. When have I been too proud to listen?