Our trip began in Florence, a city vitalized by the Medici dynasty, a banking family committed to advancing science, art, and literature. We started at the Uffizi, home of the Nascita di Venere, the Primavera, and the Medusa, and other works. Packed to the brim with eager onlookers, we made our way through the crowds to ogle at the masterpieces.

After, we climbed up to an outlook of the city. Being the tourists we are, we posed for a corny photoshoot resembling early 2000s Christmas cards. Our evening ended with sunset and drinks over Florence.

We painted Florence our next day in a watercolor class — yellow, orange, and red punctuated with green rectangles — buildings with their distinctive northern Italian shutters.

At Boboli gardens, our eyes feasted on real life paintings of the rolling Tuscan hills. The vista contained much more detail and shape than our watercolor replicas. We looked out onto green slopes decorated with red farm houses, and particular trees — some tall others stout.

A trip to Tuscany wouldn’t be complete without a wine tasting. Piled into a small European car, we meandered around country roads until stumbling upon a vineyard open to visits. We unknowingly arrived at the perfect time, and met Christian, a wine expert, only on site once a month. From one academic to another, I could sense his passion and deep knowledge in his presentation and explanation of the wine, informing us of the local soil that impacts the grapes, and how grapes grown 50 km away from one another can produce radically different tastes.

Homemade sage ravioli accompanied our wines, and we spent the afternoon imbibing, laughing, and enjoying the views from the windows of a private, cozy, dining room.

Siena started with a cappuccino in the Piazza del Campo, a spot for the historic horse race between the Sienese neighborhoods. We wandered around the medieval streets, stopping to shop the italian moda, and try cantucci, crunchy cookies often with almonds.

We ate pasta, panini, pizza… and bistecca fiorentina. We selected a T-Bone steak and it was brought to the table for serving. In Tuscany, we experienced art, wine, and shopping, the perfect accompaniment for quality family time.

The preseason of August would creep up, and I’d know it would hurt, but I did it anyways, in anticipation for being able to have a successful season. My body would change during the season and by the end I’d be in the best shape of my life — Monday-Friday of 2 hour per day practices can do that to you. Going into college, I spent a week partying during frosh (McGill orientation), and thanks to my youth, all the training in high school and over the prior summer, I could do a triathlon.

Fast forward to adulthood, and I am in a longer preseason. This time, it’s not a team sport that I’m preparing for, but instead it’s healthy living. I had a blocker this time with beginning to work out. It turns out it was mostly psychological because when I finally started sweating, it felt great.

I got into my head about the bodies that belong in a fitness studio, and worried that mine wouldn’t fit in. Fearing that my performance would be so much worse than those around me, I didn’t even try the class. I was scared to jump into the metaphoric pool.

Things changed when Iman, a swim team mate, and close friend, invited me to a spin class (indoor cycling). I reluctantly went, nervous about what I’d find, and how I’d be percieved. Turns out, I could keep up, and the room had a diversity of bodies; I fit in.

Along with some other changes (going on a GLP1, the arrival of Spring), I was able to kick off my preseason. I started walking a minimum of 10,000 steps per day, and tracking what I ate. I danced on bikes, and tried a HIIT strength training class. Like in preseason, I felt the soreness in my legs. This time, I not training for just fall or spring, but I’m training for a season that will last the rest of my life.

The protagonist, Casey, describes her bike rides on the Boston University, or simply BU bridge to her chaotic waitressing job. The scenes of Casey working in service reminds me of my own high school job and the difficulty keeping a uniform clean with all the mess involved with food preparation and moving back and forth in a kitchen. Scenes of Cambridge and Somerville would resonate most with my sister Lily who worked as a hostess in Porter Square.

On her time off, Casey swims in Walden pond, an activity my sisters and I would partake in during our summers. The sense of place is poignant: the brass of Thoreau’s replica, the smell of pine, and the cool pond water. However, it is not only the description of the spots in Boston, the bookstores, the street names, and the small towns, but the mixed relationship that she has with the city that rings true. At one point, her brother exclaims that he hates Boston. A city that raises you contains memories of experiences both good and bad.

Literary mentions are woven into the book, of Dante, for example to describe difficulty finding one’s path. Since the author has recently lost her mother, she describes going to the library with the intent to research Cuba for the novel she is writing, but instead she is drawn to sections describing other writers who have loss their mothers.

Casey is anxiety ridden, and describes a visceral experience of loosing herself, and the panic entailed. She moves in and out of reality, the only thing that helps her is tensing her muscles and relaxing them one at a time. She continues this activity to calm herself throughout the later part of the novel.

She has encounters with two men, Oscar and Silas. Oscar is an older, established writer with two children. Silas in contrast is around the same age as Casey and is a budding author like her. The novel is refreshing as Casey’s happiness doesn’t revolve around the two characters. Instead, her happiness is in her vocation, her writing, and the evolution of her book.

Usually, when I have time off or I’m in between things, I travel. Last year, I went to Singapore, South Korea, and Japan. I see the world through the temples of Kyoto, food stands of Singapore, and tea houses of South Korea. Yet, my world view is limited to tourist areas and superficial, prone to fall into what the country wants it’s outside image to be.

Volunteering on the other end is a portal into humanity. A reality that is harsher, weathered, and sharp around the edges. Seeing the world through this lens complements the comfortable travel, safe views from the eyes of a tourist.

Montreal has some of the best cafes spread across the neighborhoods. We sipped espresso, and on one Saturday, Ben helped to organize an open coffee house, where friends came over to indulge in fancy drinks, and baked goods.

With the additional time, we saw family, some who are aging quicker than we like. Living abroad means we notice the changes in our family’s wellness more than if we saw them day in and day out. We spent time with Ben’s cousins, and spent a weekend at their lake house. Boston meant time with my side of the family, and we made it to a summer baseball game along with ice cream and long walks with my family.

Attempting to maintain my fitness motivation, I joined a gym with a spa attached. I was successful for the first two weeks: lifting and doing cardio followed by time in a jacuzzi or dry sauna. I also did a classic Montreal activity: climbing up the mountain in the center of the city. Attempting to regain motivation, I signed up for a week at the YMCA, and did a yoga class this morning.

Reconnecting with the research environment, I went to a software engineering meetup. I enjoyed chatting with the current members of my former lab. In no time at all, I’ll be back in Aarhus, and then back to my PhD program. Taking the advice of my uncle, I’m trying to do all the things a lot which I can’t usually do. One of which is writing.

As the future technology creators of the world, CS students are the lucky few able to open the black box, and peak inside. In a society with more and more technology, we can use our expertise to create a future more equitable society that centres human work as purposeful and enjoyable contributions to society.

Albert Borgmann, a professor of philosophy at the University of Montana, published Technology and the Character of Contemporary Life¹ in 1984. Borgmann argues that focal activities make us human, technology conceals focal activities, and labour is made worse by concealment. But what do these terms even mean?

Playing guitar, practicing kung fu, gaming on the internet, playing golf, and hiking with family are examples of focal activities. Focal activities make the human experience human and meaningful. Playing an instrument in a band is an example of a focal activity according to Borgmann.

Attending a concert, for me, is a focal activity. The ambient displays that pulse to the rhythm, and lyrics I know by heart. I sway in the audience. Total immersion, better than any VR set. Listening to the same artist in my headphones, the experience is different. Borgmann argues that the device conceals the focal activity. Listening to Tame Impala on my commute to work, I no longer feel the bass deep in my core. I don’t sway in unison with the others around me.

Tame Impala

However, devices present other opportunities. For example, a masters student shares that neurodiversity can make attending concerts overwhelming, and listening to music from an iPhone with headphones can be a more enjoyable experience.

We change our world, and our world changes us: how has the widespread adoption of a personal music player changed how we experience music, is it mostly good? Mostly bad? What can we do that we couldn’t do before? What have we lost? These are questions CS students are uniquely positioned to ask as we build the next generation of technologies that shape our lives.

In addition to leisure, Borgmann also discusses the nine-to-five, comparing the work of a craftsman and an assembly line worker. The artisanal baker feels more enjoyment from his work because his focal activities are available to him. He kneads the dough, lets it proof, and bakes it. An assembly line worker at a bread factory is responsible for one step: entering the bake time into an industrial oven. Another worker oversees the machines that kneads the dough.

The assembly line worker can not access the enjoyment and fulfilment of the full process. He is alienated from his work by concealment by devices and the division of work in the assembly line. In the shift to more assembly lines and less artisanal shops, the artisanal skills are lost.

So what can we do? Perhaps we reshape work. Maybe we make our work days and work weeks shorter, leaving more time for leisure? As we look ahead, what is necessary to build a society where workers feel purpose, and derive enjoyment from their labour?

Perhaps in the early phases of technology design, a focal activities inventory could help preserve the meaningful parts of work, so that workers can derive pleasure from their work, and use their skills. As the future technology creators of the world, CS students are the lucky few able to open the black box, and peak inside. In a society with more and more technology, we can use our expertise to create a future more equitable society that centres human work as purposeful and enjoyable contributions to society.

Endnotes

I read Chapter 1: Technology and Theory, Chapter 9: The Device Paradigm, and Chapter 17: Work and Labor of Technology and the Character of Contemporary Life: A Philosophical Inquiry¹, and reviewed an interview with the author², a blog reviewing each chapter of the book³, and a blog about Borgmann’s concepts⁴. I presented an analysis⁵ of the device paradigm to a course focused on Human-Centered Artificial Intelligence at Aarhus University in March 2024. This blog is the result of workshopping the ideas with students in the class. I thank the students and instructor of the Designing Interactive Technologies course for their active participation during the presentation, written feedback, and lively discussion that spilled over the bounds of the class time.

1. Albert Borgmann. 1984. Technology and the Character of Contemporary Life: A Philosophical Inquiry. University of Chicago Press.
2. Luminary FM Podcast. November 1, 2021. Albert Borgmann on the philosophy of technology (interview). Accessed March 10, 2024. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pj5-13dk2yk&list=PL8-JyO_9DPEvKvBXJyX9d1aQjCShNHmYk&index=6
3. Jonathan Lipps. May 30, 2011. Blogging Borgmann. Accessed March 10, 2024. https://blog.jlipps.com/2011/05/blogging-borgmann-overview-technology-and-the-character-of-contemporary-life/
4. L.M. Sacasas. April 5, 2019. Technology and the Inadequacy of Values Talk. Accessed March 10, 2024. https://thefrailestthing.com/tag/albert-borgmann/.
5. Caroline Berger. March 5, 2024. The Device Paradigm (presentation). https://docs.google.com/presentation/d/17t_4_gNL4qGvefme6ngAooOorpxsg8113W0L8hbavhw/edit?usp=sharing

Unboxing The Future was originally published in HCAI@AU on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Despite it all, he occupied the world as an open-minded man. In contrast to push back from the more traditional, catholic sections of my family, he was open to any gender I brought home, and accepted my radical decisions. In addition to dating women, he was fine with me really going against the grain (thanks Boston upbringing): working random jobs throughout the summers of college instead of following suite in career building internships. Strictness wasn’t in his nature, but generosity was – a famous Berger trait – I hope to pass on. He treated me to Starbucks, left gas money, and gave slurps of his coveted coke (we were a no drinks with dinner out family with my dad being the exception to the rule). He was kind to the core, and committed to his family.

He was head over heals with my mom, to the point he not only converted to Catholicism, but also taught Sunday school. Taking on an academic approach, he used the books as material for a literary exploration. He and my mom presented a united front when it came to religion. I have a similar game plan for myself with Judaism.

Since there were only women in the house, he decided that we would learn to fish. Heading out before dawn at our lake house in Michigan, he packed a Barbie fishing rod for my sister and I. We stopped for donuts and welcomed the sun in the hazy morning with our rods hung over the lake.

He pursued helping humanity for his career forgoing big law and instead working as a public defender. A trait I find noble.

Thanks Dad, for demonstrating radical inclusivity, generosity, and passing down your wicked good smahts (whether through nature or nurture). Thanks for showing me that gender be damned, women can do anything they set their minds to: even as 7-year-olds that throw their Barbie fishing rod into the water while trying to caste out.

I write this while surfing down the Pacific. I am reminded by America’s natural beauty, the wonder it evokes. I came to California to workshop a part of my dissertation, and stayed a few extra days for adventure.

I arrived skis in hand, and made my way to a friend’s house. After interrupted, jet lagged consecutive naps, I woke up early to catch a bus out to Tahoe. The busride itself was beautiful, looking out onto the wooded landscapes. At times, we’d pass neighborhoods made up of RV housing. I find myself holding back judgement, who am I to say what makes a nice home? Surely it’s the love inside, and not the material structure. Also, I know a lot of engineers at big tech companies that are miserable, maybe other less lucrative work hosts happier people?

The bus was filled with people living in the Bay area. I spoke with a nice family from Singapore, complimenting their public transit system and cuisine. I chatted with two young professionals that came from China to study their bachelors in the Bay area.

The bus was timely and convenient, dropping us off for first tracks. Finding no line, I bought my ticket, and boarded the gondola. Meeting two juniors in high school, they taught me the ropes of the lines. I wished them good luck on their SATs and to have a fun day.

The snow was perfect. The conditions were perfect. People were friendly, reminding me of skiing in Utah. Chatting on the lift, I meet a HCI researcher. His work has influenced my thinking, what a coincidence to ride next to him.

Lunch is a healthy fuel up, thanks California, and a local beer from the closest town. Back on the slopes, I ski my heart out, doing a sports bra run for the heck of it, time to get some Vitamin D.

I wander off the mountain to find an apres ski in full force. After chatting about Denmark, a Danish-American from the town over from my hometown, buys me a local IPA. The world gets smaller each day.

The day after skiing, I make my way up to Berkeley, and find myself a bike. I eat hot pot, indulging in the food I can’t get in Aarhus, and shop for manga. San Francisco and the BART remind me of the precaution I used to exercise in Washington, DC. Self-preservation in cities is a muscle I’ve not worked living in Aarhus, and I feel a bit sore from the exercise.

The conference days pass. I meet family to go down to pacific grove. Biking around, I enjoy the lookout onto the pacific. I ride up to the post-naval graduate school, and down to pebble beach. I stop for a drink, and run my own sociological experiment, eavesdropping. A clearly right winged couple sits next to me, joking with Ben after, he wonders why a PhD living in Denmark would have signaled republican. I laugh along, as I bike away from pebble beach, the couple passes in their huge truck. Our political opinions are manifested by our choice in transportation.

After a morning swim in the Pacific, I set for Salinas. There, I am met with the feeling that the world is indeed actually large. People, protected from the sun with hats and hoods, work the land, growing the lettuce that most likely will be on my taco that evening. It looks like back-breaking work. I wonder if more republicans biked through the Salinas valley their tune on immigration would change. They like to eat, don’t they?

A road is closed due to flooding, but checking my maps, the other way takes me 3 extra miles through a much too busy road. A man with a cowboy hat, likely a farmer, stands on the other side of the flooded road. I take off my socks and shoes and wade my bike through the river. We don’t address each other, but I have the feeling that had I been unsuccessful, he’d have come to my aid.

Salinas proper is lovely, and I am charmed. I stop for a coffee and soak in the sunshine. I get why Steinbeck was so inspired by this region. It’s America, a different America than the lifts of Tahoe, but America all the same.

The train from Salinas to San Luis Obispo is amazing. The roof car has movable seats. We go through the mountains and farm land and are immersed in green all around. I am rocked to sleep by the train, weary from the hours of biking that morning. The train conductor helps me with my bike, and the Amtrak workers are lovely, this is the backbone of America.

I bike down to the coast, on a constant welcomed downhill pushing on to the coast. A small bike path welcomes me, and I change direction. Ending up in Avila, I find a spot for a dinner of tacos — both fish and steak. I guzzle a local sour beer, this time more than a pint.

I check the prices at the local hotel, and decide to push on towards Pismo beach. However, it is much too dark to ride safely, so I call an UberXL that graciously helps me load my bike. After arriving in town, I make the decision to check into an inn, foregoing on camping for the night.

A lovely man working at the inn gives me the king bedroom. A man behind me clearly struggles, my guess is he’s under the influence, soothing his pain, and taking refuge for the night in the inn.

I shower, and fall quickly to sleep. The next morning, I wake up early, collect my bike, and ride down to the station. I alternate between dozing and taking in the views. I meet family at the station and we proceed to have breakfast on the beach. It doesn’t get much better than this. The central coast has my heart. Riding back up to the Bay, I enjoy the views out the window, ready for all the adventures to come.

I write this while watching the California residences and trees pass by the BART (public train transportation) window. The car is clean, quiet, serene.

California sunny, California confusing. The destination for many to pursue the American dream while Musk racks in fortunes off the backs of the working class man. Housing is scarce, and wealth is concentrated.

Why no uprising? If they put a social housing tower, my guess is that 10 RVs could be used as recreation vehicles instead of full time homes. Open it to anyone, try the Danish way. Why should the rich fear the poor?

Swap in the Tesla, take the BART, everyone might live a bit better. Maybe you make a new friend on the train – a welcomed change from the isolated door dash dinners. My solutionism is unbridled, and maybe the California thought experiment isn’t for my tender heart.

Despite it all, beautiful days are many, and nature is all around. The variety of tastes: cheese melted on corn tortillas, beets mixed with chicken, and buttered toast served hot. Juice of the gods, coffee served hot, cream on the side, a lovely waitress passes by pouring more.

California rocks are the pebbles of giants. The sweeping hills are reminiscent of Florentine countryside. The Mediterranean climate, the cliffed, snow capped, mountains: home to endless adventure.

Intelligence is packed into one place. I turn to find an academic in my field next to me on the ski lift. After two days attempting to fit into the computer science research community, I will strap a hammock onto a bike, and board the train down the coast.

There’s a certain calm in travel. I am unknown, and everything is new. I will eat when I am hungry, sleep when I am tired, and adventure when my heart turns light and ecstatic. I will write instead of talk with reckless abandon, without concern for the reader.

I will open spaces in my mind for new discovery both personal and professional. My dissertation acts as the fertile soil for planting new inquiry. Instead of following what I must do, I will act without plans, situating action in the heart over the head. On my way, I hope to learn – to change my mind, and change it again.

I am thankful for my work environment. I work with fantastic researchers from around the world, in an environment that is conducive to reaching my full growth. Collaboration trumps competition, ideas are built, reviews are offered generously: united we stand, on our shared mission of building on to the field of human-computer interaction, inch-by-inch.

We hail from different background, but science is our common cause, geopolitical conflicts be damned.

En route to a course intensive, we basque in the sun of the sea. Our hair whips in the wind, and we laugh. Snapping pictures, we catalog memories. These will be the good old PhD days.

To international environments, to the Danish work-life-balance, to collaborative environments, je vous remercie.