The pace of change in our world is relentless. In many aspects of life we are being nudged — or sometimes shoved — toward the latest innovations, whether we want them or not.

Maybe we are not all eager to embrace a new world, especially when the old one seemed perfectly fine.

This is my journey through our rapidly changing technological landscape, exploring what it means to be a Luddite and how I came to embrace the term.

Over the past twenty years, starting around the introduction of the iPhone in 2007, I’ve gradually distanced myself from new technology.

​Some might call me a Luddite.

The Luddites were 19th-century textile workers who rioted against the introduction of new machinery that threatened to replace them and reduce wages. A pseudonym for a mythical mill worker, “Ned Ludd”, was used to sign threatening letters to mill owners and government officials. Machines were destroyed by the protesters.

The system and the state fought back. Protesters were shot by factory owners, and the full weight of the government was brought to bear. Penalties for the Luddites included execution and penal transportation. By 1817 the movement had been crushed.

For the most part nowadays, instead of respecting and valuing these workers trying to protect their livelihoods, they are derided. “Luddite” is used as a derogatory term for someone resistant to progress, especially technological progress. Resistance to change is often viewed as one of the greatest sins in our modern world.

The struggle of workers against the relentless march of automation is a recurring theme that has accelerated as our world becomes more technologically advanced. Displaced workers are often redeployed as machines enable more products to be made and more customers to be served.

However, when the tipping point arrives — when no more products are needed, no more customers can be served, and there’s nowhere to redeploy the workers — we may rediscover the Luddite way of thinking. By then, it may be too late to do anything about it.

​Reflecting on the Luddites’ struggle against change, it seems unfair that their name is now a slur for those resistant to progress. They stood up bravely and suffered for what they believed in; I respect that. We are all entitled to an opinion, Luddite or not.

I worked in tech all my life, mostly as a coder. I started with paper tape and punch cards, progressing with each new technical innovation. Those were exciting times, and I was always eager to learn. I read the manuals, kept up to date and looked into each new thing that came along.

I was young, my mind was flexible, and I was excited by technological developments. It was my world and I embraced it.

How strange it was to me that the improvements to our computer systems were not greeted with delight from our users. For the most part they would rather stay with what they knew.

I probably described them as Luddites back then, without any consideration for how they felt.

As the workplace evolved, so did my home and leisure activities. I rushed to get an original mobile phone (long before the smartphone was invented), a marvellous piece of technology at the time. I got a computer at home, and then a modem! All this modern stuff seemed brilliant at the time.

I tried to be patient with older folks who struggled to understand what the internet was and why typing on a screen was so much fun.

As my career — and perhaps my energy — entered its later years, my enthusiasm for the new evaporated. Gradually, the spark I once had for new technology dimmed, and I found myself increasingly indifferent to the latest innovations. The bright young things at work were as I once was — they knew nothing about anything, just as I did when I started out. It was their turn now.

​One day those bright young things will be regarding the latest tech advances with suspicion. Perhaps they too will go looking for the meaning of “Luddite” and reflecting.

Pcunix, a fellow writer on Medium, suggested downloading an app and was surprised by me saying I didn’t have a smartphone. I don’t have apps. This surprises most people — everyone seems to have one.

I value peace in my life, and this is one way I ensure it. The smartphone you carry logs your every footstep. It knows where you are, what you’re doing, where you’re going. You are available 24/7, and your government can send emergency alerts through it. I’m not sure that’s what I want in my life. It all feels a bit 1984.

For nearly two decades, I’ve managed just fine without a smartphone. It’s my way of ensuring there is still a part of my life where I am blissfully offline. Imagine that! Not being connected every single second of the day.

My old style mobile phone cost £15 to purchase outright, with no ongoing contract. It has buttons, and you can make or receive calls. It’s used on rare occasions — a personal call, a car service — that’s about it. I don’t take it with me when I go out, and mostly, it’s switched off.

​It’s cheap, it doesn’t inform me about stuff I don’t need to know and I am out of the 24 / 7 media circus. It has never needed a software update and none of apps ever fail because — there are no apps.

The world keeps changing. Change is good! Progress is everything! I will freely admit that some of the changes are genuine progress and things may improve if you can keep up.

But if you can’t or won’t, life can become harder.

Here are a few ways modern technology has complicated the simple pleasures of my daily life.

Parking Meters
Meters are moving away from cash. I was happy with cash, always remembering to take my pound coins with me so the dog and I could visit other places. A favourite beauty spot has a public car park near a river walk.

They changed the machines a while back. Now the signs prompt you to download the app for payment. I asked someone if any of the machines took cash and, after their obvious shock, they thought there might be one on the other side of the park.

I don’t bother going there so much now although I do still have the option of searching for a free space. It’s just that little bit more difficult.

QR codes
They are everywhere. These can be scanned to send you to a website for marketing purposes but they have other uses too such as allowing access to buildings. How long before my local medical center requires a QR code scan to access their car park and building? Or I need to wave my QR code at the bus driver so I can make a journey?

Taking Pictures
I have a digital camera; I’m not that old. I use it to take occasional pictures of the dog. It sits in a drawer until the battery runs down. I charge it occasionally.

Most people today have phones that capture everything. That’s great for them. An optional leisure activity I have no problem with as long as it remains optional.

As our lives become ever more disconnected and impersonal, the expectation of instant pictures seems to grow. If I make a remote appointment with a doctor for something they might well expect a picture of what ails me.

Certainly tradesmen do. A quick phone call to discuss a requirement and their response is often “Send me a picture”. Sure. I’ll charge up my camera, transfer the picture to my desktop computer, write you an email and attach it.

Websites
I have a desktop computer, it serves me well. I use it for all manner of things — shopping, banking and leisure. It is clear that many sites are now designed for phones first and desktop computers with wide screens a distant second.

My banking website becomes ever more tedious as their main design thrust is for a small hand held screen. At some point it feels like it will simply stop working because I am unable to swipe or scan my inside leg measurement.

​These are minor irritations in the great scheme of things. I can still function perfectly well at the present time. If the new technology takes over to the extent you can’t function without it, things will get tougher.

There are many who are even more distant from new technology than I am.

They create a queue at the checkout as they look for the correct change from their purse. They buy a daily paper and visit what remaining banks there are in person. They use cash for purchases, it helps them to budget and eke out their often meagre pensions.

Don’t tread on these people as you rush towards the latest innovations. They deserve to participate fully in society.

Don’t pity them either. People can live full lives without the latest tech. The beauty in the natural world is for everyone, not only those with a 4K video recorder. And for the most part, you don’t need a QR code to visit it.

My late mother resisted change despite all my attempts in my younger years. I tried to persuade her to go cashless. Everybody does it. To make all her outgoings direct debit. To do her shopping online. She was happy with how things were — collecting her pension in cash, writing cheques to pay bills. It was how she felt in control of things.

I stopped trying to persuade her as my own perception altered. Why should someone change how they run their lives, particularly in their twilight years?

​Technology companies should ensure these people are not locked out because they didn’t adopt the latest thing.

On the near horizon are things like digital currency, vaccine passports, and identity cards. These will almost certainly require smartphones, home broadband connections, and maybe something new.

These changes are not just technical. They involve massive societal change and have a host of implications which require more space than a paragraph in this article.

There may be benefits to these things, although I’m cautious about who benefits. It’s certainly not being done for me. I want to retain the option of opting out. Allow me to keep my old, switched-off mobile phone and enjoy peaceful walks with my dog.

​I’ve become the very person I once secretly pitied — a reluctant traveller in this New World. I suppose that makes me a Luddite after all.