Many of the technologies they destroyed weren’t even new inventions. Third, the Luddites were not against innovation. The bosses, on the other hand, wanted to drive down costs and increase productivity. The Luddites wanted technology to be deployed in ways that made work more humane and gave workers more autonomy. Luddism was a working-class movement opposed to the political consequences of industrial capitalism. As historian David Noble puts it, they understood “technology in the present tense”, by analysing its immediate, material impacts and acting accordingly. Smashing machines was not a kneejerk reaction to new technology, but a tactical response by workers based on their understanding of how owners were using those machines to make labour conditions more exploitative. Even within a single factory - which would contain machines owned by different capitalists - some machines were destroyed and others pardoned depending on the business practices of their owners. They targeted those owned by manufacturers who were known to pay low wages, disregard workers’ safety, and/or speed up the pace of work. They were intentional and purposeful about which machines they smashed. The contemporary usage of Luddite has the machine-smashing part correct - but that’s about all it gets right.įirst, the Luddites were not indiscriminate. They took their name from the apocryphal tale of Ned Ludd, a weaver’s apprentice who supposedly smashed two knitting machines in a fit of rage. The Luddites were a secret organisation of workers who smashed machines in the textile factories of England in the early 1800s, a period of increasing industrialisation, economic hardship due to expensive conflicts with France and the United States, and widespread unrest among the working class. It wasn’t until I learned the true origins of Luddism that I began sincerely to regard myself as one of them. It’s the kind of self-effacing thing you say when fumbling with screen-sharing on Zoom during a presentation: “Sorry, I’m such a Luddite!” A brief - and accurate - history of LuddismĮven among other social scientists who study these kinds of critical questions about technology, the label of “Luddite” is still largely an ironic one. It’s time we reconsider the lessons of Luddism. Our circumstances today are more similar to theirs than it might seem, as new technologies are being used to transform our own working and social conditions - think increases in employee surveillance during lockdowns, or exploitation by gig labour platforms. The coronavirus pandemic is boosting the big tech transformation to warp speed This all-or-nothing approach to debates about technology and society is based on severe misconceptions of the real history and politics of the original Luddites: English textile workers in the early 19th century who, under the cover of night, destroyed weaving machines in protest to changes in their working conditions. Looking to the future, there is a need for human-automation interaction research to focus on (1) issues of function and task allocation between humans and machines, (2) issues of trust, incorrect use, and confusion, (3) the balance between focus, divided attention and attention management, (4) the need for interdisciplinary approaches to cover breadth and depth, (5) regulation and explainability, (6) ethical and social dilemmas, (7) allowing a human and humane experience, and (8) radically different human-automation interaction.To be a Luddite is seen as synonymous with being primitive - backwards in your outlook, ignorant of innovation’s wonders, and fearful of modern society. We find that over the years, automated systems have been used more frequently (1) in time-sensitive or safety-critical settings, (2) in embodied and situated systems, and (3) by non-professional users. We start by reviewing articles that were published on this topic in the International Journal of Human-Computer Studies during the last 50 years. We review the history of human-automation interaction research, assess its current status and identify future directions.
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