John Muir and the Ambivalence of Technology

Journal of American Studies of Turkey 30 (2009): 43-56 John Muir and the Ambivalence of Technology Jean-Daniel Collomb One may introduce John Muir in several different ways. He was an amateur scientist, a nature writer, an indefatigable advocate of the national park system and one of the co-founders of the Sierra Club. The so-called Deep Ecologists have singled him out as an early proponent of biocentrism (Naess 33). To many others he was a nature lover in the romantic vein. Such a pluralistic portrayal bears testimony to Muir’s eclectic temperament and dynamism but it can also give rise to some contradictory impressions. Never is this more obvious than when one broaches the subject of Muir’s perception of technology. In the biography Linnie Marsh Wolfe wrote about Muir, the author of My First Summer in the Sierra emerges as a hermit who thrived as long as he kept aloof from human civilization. In a similar fashion Richard Cartwright has depicted Muir as a kind of modern-day John the Baptist (16). No doubt all of this is true. On several occasions Muir felt no compunction in turning his back on human civilisation and there were no places he disliked as much as big cities. This, however, is not the whole story. Muir was also a mechanic and an inventor of remarkable ability. Although he did not consistently endorse technical progress in the way many of his fellow Americans were apt to do, it would be misleading to assert that he was wholly estranged from it. Muir’s hesitations and qualms regarding technology are worth studying in that they may provide us with a dissenting account of America’s technological coming of age at the dawn of the American century. What is more, Muir’s reluctant fascination for technical progress and eventually his inability to set limits to it reflects the sheer potency and attractiveness of technology in American culture. This said, let us not forget that, Muir being from Scotland, his case is also relevant to the West at large, and not simply to American culture. John Muir, Son of the Enlightenment From a very early age Muir was fascinated by science. He would read any book about science—or about any other subject for that matter—he could lay his hands on. In addition he was adept at the applied sciences and was fond of inventing new mechanical devices. In his autobiography entitled The Story of My Boyhood and Youth, Muir draws a list of the countless inventions he had managed to create on the Wisconsin farm where he spent his teenage years: Jean-Daniel Collomb After completing my self-setting sawmill I dammed one of the streams in the meadow and put the mill in operation. This invention was speedily followed by a lot of others,—waterwheels, curious doorlocks and latches, thermometers, hygrometers, pyrometers, clocks, a barometer, an automatic contrivance for feeding the horses at any required hour, a lamp-lighter and fire-lighter, an early-or-late-rising-machine, and so forth. (Muir, Boyhood 122) The fact that Muir’s father was a deeply religious man who despised science made matters complicated for the young inventor. More often than not, he managed to finesse his father’s opposition. That is why it is fair to depict John Muir as an inheritor of the Age of Reason. Indeed his youth bears some resemblances to the youth of Benjamin Franklin, a man who has come to epitomise the spirit of the American Enlightenment. Like Franklin, Muir was largely self-taught and his work ethic enabled him to acquire knowledge about a wealth of different subjects. Muir’s lifelong thirst for knowledge is also reminiscent of Franklin’s devotion to learning and self-improvement.1 After leaving the family home, Muir did not shed his interest in the applied sciences—quite the opposite. For instance during the two and a half years he spent at the University of Wisconsin, Muir’s talent as an inventor did not go unnoticed. A letter written by a man who had studied alongside Muir at the time contains an edifying description of Muir’s study: The room was lined with shelves, one above the other, higher than a man could reach. Those shelves were filled with retorts, glass tubes, glass jars, botanical and geological specimens, and small mechanical contrivances. On the floor around the sides of the room were a number of machines of larger size whose purposes were not 1 Muir’s inventions were often aimed at setting his environment in order. He also sought ways to make farm work less gruelling through the use of mechanical devices. It must be borne in mind, however, that this was to be done against the will of his father to whom such endeavours smacked of hubris. That is also why Muir devised an early-rising machine which allowed him to wake up very early in the morning to read before going to work. After he left his family, he went to the State Fair in Madison where his inventions were highly praised (Boyhood 131). For a more detailed analysis of Muir’s inventions, see Stephen J. Holmes (52). 44 John Muir and the Ambivalence of Technology apparent at a glance, but which I came to know later. (Badè 89-90) In 1863 Muir left the University of Wisconsin with no professional plan in mind. At this moment of his life he was not willing to start a career. He felt magnetically drawn to the wilds and just enjoyed studying and observing nature at close range. In the vein of Alexander von Humboldt and Charles Darwin, Muir roamed and explored the wilderness in order to get to know it. The naturalist observed natural phenomena, drew comparisons and tried to make connections and draw conclusions. In an entry of his journal in January 1870, Muir expressed his willingness to study nature by coming into close contact with it: If my soul could get away from this so-called prison, be granted all the list of attributes generally bestowed on spirits, my first ramble on spirit wings would not be among the volcanoes of the moon. . . . I should study Nature’s laws in all their crossings and unions; I should follow magnetic streams to their source, and follow the shores of our magnetic oceans. . . . Alas, how little of the world is subject to human senses! (Unpublished Journals 43-44) Muir’s dream bears testimony to the priority he always gave to scientific work in the field. For instance, he would often send plant specimens to Harvard botanist Asa Gray but when Gray asked him to come and teach on the east coast, Muir declined the offer. He much preferred staying in California where he could revel in nature’s harmony. In Muir’s view going into the wilds was much more important than reading books: “No amount of word making will ever make a single soul to know these mountains. As well to warm the naked and frostbitten by lectures on caloric and pictures of flame. One day’s exposure to mountains is better than cartloads of books” (Unpublished Journals 95). That is why Muir never stopped exploring nature throughout his life. But, as a young man, after leaving his alma mater, he also needed to make (...truncated)