by Lewis Loflin
Technology has long been a cornerstone of human progress, lifting societies out of poverty and improving quality of life. Yet, some environmentalists view technological advancement with suspicion, often embracing a technophobic stance that equates progress with peril. As a Deist, I value the rational pursuit of knowledge and innovation, seeing science as a tool to understand and steward the natural world, not destroy it. In *Science Under Siege*, Michael Fumento critiques this fear-loathing of technology within environmentalism, highlighting how it has hindered solutions to both ecological and societal challenges. While environmental concerns deserve attention, an irrational fear of progress risks rejecting the very tools that could address those concerns sustainably.
Technophobia is not a modern phenomenon; it has deep historical roots. In 1857, a U.S. congressman warned on the House floor about a new technology, stating: “This begins a new era in the history of civilization. Never before has society been confronted with a power so full of potential danger and at the same time so full of promise for the future of man and for the peace of the world. The menace to our people… would call for prompt legislative action, even if the military and economic implications were not so overwhelming” (*Science Under Siege*, p. 356). The subject was not nuclear energy, as one might assume, but the internal combustion engine—a technology that would later revolutionize transportation and industry, despite early fears.
This pattern of fear repeats across centuries. In the 20th century, nuclear energy faced similar opposition. While some critics raised valid concerns about safety, others opposed it precisely because of its potential to provide clean, abundant energy. Amory Lovins wrote in *Mother Earth*, “It would be little short of disastrous for us to discover a source of clean, cheap, abundant energy because of what we might do with it.” Similarly, Paul Ehrlich warned, “Giving society cheap, abundant energy… would be the equivalent of giving an idiot child a machine gun,” revealing an elitist view that distrusts humanity’s ability to wield technology responsibly (*Science Under Siege*, p. 356).
Some environmentalists go further, actively wishing for technological failure to validate their fears. Dartmouth professor Noel Perrin wrote in *Quest* magazine, “I don’t want nuclear technology (or solar, or any other kind) to work because the blessings of abundant energy are even more to be feared than its risks.” In a 1981 *New York Times* article, he chillingly advocated for a nuclear disaster: “What’s needed from the nuclear industry is an actual catastrophe—such as it almost gave us at Three Mile Island… We do need a nuclear accident—a nice big one. Soon! Three Mile Island would have done nicely… probably no more than a hundred people would have died from the initial contact with the radioactive steam” (*Science Under Siege*, p. 356). Perrin’s willingness to accept such casualties as a means to halt progress underscores the extreme mindset of some technophobes.
The promise of cold fusion in 1989, when researchers at Brigham Young University claimed a breakthrough, elicited a similar reaction. Jeremy Rifkin called it “the worst thing that could happen to our planet,” fearing that cheap, safe energy would fuel unchecked growth (*Science Under Siege*, p. 357). This fear of abundance reflects a broader agrarian utopianism within environmentalism—a desire to return to a pre-industrial “natural” state, even at the cost of human well-being.
Technophobia also manifests in the rejection of technologies that could solve environmental problems. Environmental biologist John Todd developed a method to treat sewage sludge using microbes that naturally metabolize toxins, successfully trialed in Providence, Rhode Island. This innovation promised to reduce the ecological harm of modern sewage systems, which produce toxic sludge. Yet, as Gregg Easterbrook noted in the *Wall Street Journal*, “environmentalists [were] furious” at Todd’s breakthrough. Some of his former friends stopped speaking to him, upset that by solving a man-made problem, he removed an argument against industrial growth (*Science Under Siege*, p. 357). This reaction highlights a paradox: some environmentalists prioritize ideological purity over practical solutions.
Another example is the opposition to genetically modified organisms (GMOs). In the 1990s, GMOs were hailed as a way to increase crop yields, reduce pesticide use, and address global hunger—issues that align with environmental goals. Yet, many environmental groups, such as Greenpeace, campaigned against them, often citing unfounded fears of “Frankenfoods.” In 2016, over 100 Nobel laureates signed a letter condemning Greenpeace’s anti-GMO stance, noting that GMOs like Golden Rice could save millions from vitamin A deficiency. This resistance mirrors the technophobia Fumento describes, where fear of technology overshadows its potential benefits.
In the 1970s, recombinant-DNA genetic engineering sparked intense opposition from environmental groups. Organizations like the Natural Resources Defense Council (NRDC), Friends of the Earth, and the Environmental Defense Fund (EDF) fought against federally funded research, threatening lawsuits and spreading alarmist narratives. Environmental literature warned of “supergerms,” environmental disasters, and ecosystem breakdowns, with books like *Biohazard* and *Playing God* fueling public fear (*Science Under Siege*, p. 357).
This opposition led to a backlash from prominent scientists within the environmental movement. In 1977, Lewis Thomas, president of the Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center, resigned from Friends of the Earth’s advisory council, stating, “I am in flat disagreement on straightforward scientific grounds with the rigid position taken by their organization.” Weeks later, René Dubos, a founder of the NRDC, resigned as a trustee after a decade, angrily writing to the Department of Health, Education, and Welfare: “I had no idea that NRDC was involved in the recombinant-DNA problem, for which it has no competence… Failure on the part of the NRDC to communicate with me… reveals either an irresponsible lack of familiarity with the literature in this field, or an intellectual dishonesty in using my name for a cause that I regard as ridiculous” (*Science Under Siege*, p. 357). These resignations underscore the growing divide between science-based environmentalism and technophobic ideology.
The technophobia within environmentalism often stems from a romanticized view of nature, a belief that humanity’s technological advancements inherently disrupt a pristine natural order. Yet, as C.P. Snow argued in his 1959 book *The Two Cultures and the Scientific Revolution*, this mindset creates a “gulf of mutual incomprehension” between scientists and literary intellectuals. Snow wrote, “Industrialization is the only hope of the poor… It is all very well for us, sitting pretty, to think that material standards of living don’t matter all that much… But I don’t respect you in the slightest if, even passively, you try to impose the same choice on others who are not free to choose. For, with singular unanimity, in any country where they have had the chance, the poor have walked off the land into factories as fast as the factories could take them” (*Science Under Siege*, p. 357).
As a Deist, I share Snow’s appreciation for science as a means to improve human life while respecting the natural world. Technology, when guided by reason, can address environmental challenges—like climate change, pollution, and resource scarcity—without rejecting progress. Nuclear energy, for example, offers a low-carbon alternative to fossil fuels, yet its potential remains underutilized due to decades of fear-driven opposition. Similarly, genetic engineering could enhance food security and reduce environmental impact, but technophobia has slowed its adoption. Balancing caution with innovation is key; dismissing technology outright risks depriving humanity of the tools needed to thrive sustainably.
The fear-loathing of technology within some environmental circles has real-world consequences, from delaying clean energy solutions to stifling innovations that could mitigate ecological harm. While environmentalism rightly calls for stewardship of the planet, it must not come at the expense of human progress. Thoughtful environmentalists, like Lewis Thomas and René Dubos, recognized this tension and pushed back against irrational technophobia. Their legacy reminds us that science and environmentalism need not be at odds—they can, and should, work together to create a future that honors both nature and human potential.
Extracts from *Science Under Siege* by Michael Fumento. Updated 2025 by Lewis Loflin.
Acknowledgment: I’d like to thank Grok, an AI by xAI, for helping me draft and refine this article. The final edits and perspective are my own.
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