Raise Your Hand if You Don’t Want to Talk About Technology
What’s Missing from the Frum Tech Conversation
There is real work to be done.
And yet, somehow, the conversation keeps getting hijacked.
On one end, we hear: All tech is completely assur. Get it out. Shut it down. There is no safe way to live with it.
On the other end: All tech is fine. Just be an adult about it. Have self-control. Move on.
Both sides are saying things that are true.
Chachamim have a gift of seeing further and wider than we do. When they warn about exposure, distraction, cultural seepage, materialism — they are not exaggerating. They are not naïve. They are not fear-mongering. They are diagnosing reality with a depth most of us simply don’t have.
And at the same time, many thoughtful, serious adults are not in a position to renounce the internet. We use it for parnassah. For logistics. For connection. For very real needs. So when the only solution presented feels total and absolute, something predictable happens:
We quietly tell ourselves they’re speaking to someone else.
The teenagers.
The extreme cases.
The “addicts.”
The people without filters.
The people who are glued to Instagram for six hours a day.
Not me.
And once we’ve decided it’s not about us, we stop listening, and that is where the real loss happens.
Because it is simply not true that if we can’t do everything, we can do nothing. It is not true that if we can’t remove all technology from our homes, than there is nothing meaningful to adjust. It is not true that awareness without radical action is hypocrisy.
There are small, non-dramatic shifts that are completely within reach — and they make all the difference in the world.
I have found that what’s missing from the conversation is space for adults who are honest enough to say: “This isn’t working perfectly for me.”
I’m not ready to renounce the Internet. I’ve been known to wax poetic about how much I appreciate it. I love not having to go to a mall. I love efficiency. I love not having to go to a mall. I love being able to learn anything at 11:30 at night in my kitchen. I really, really love not having to go to a mall.
And yet, if I’m honest, my attitude for a long time was slightly defeatist- waving the white flag before even attempting alternatives.
“I’m not in a position to get all tech out of my house,” I told myself. “So this is fine.”
I convinced myself that because I was aware of the issues — because I educated my family, because I had rules, because I wasn’t naive — that was enough. So I told myself things like:
No phone while the kids are home.
No more than half an hour of browsing.
Only necessary WhatsApps.
Only practical uses.
The intentions were sincere — but turns out intentions don’t account for much.
Time and again, the subtle effects were winning. The constant low-level distraction. The creeping materialism. The slow normalization of non-Jewish cultural assumptions. The erosion of attention. Nothing dramatic or headline-worthy, just a gradual shift.
And here is the part that is hardest to admit:
I was engaging in b’dieved — and quietly upgrading it to l’chatchilah as a defense mechanism.
I told myself that this must be fine. If I’m functioning, then it’s not a problem.
If everyone else is doing it, then this is just the new reality.
But we cannot afford to let b’dieved turn into l’chatchilah simply because we lack the energy or courage to look at reality clearly.
What that means is this: no more keeping our heads in the sand. Can we please acknowledge that something can be both necessary and corrosive, useful and shaping?
And once we acknowledge that, we can ask a better question:
Given my real life, my real constraints, and my real responsibilities — what is one honest step forward?
That is the conversation I wish we were having more often. Not all or nothing— just real.
TechTalks is built for responsible, thoughtful frum women who are not looking to escape the modern world but are ready to examine how they are living inside it. From Pesach through Shavuos — a time already dedicated to growth and refinement — we’ll spend six weeks unpacking these questions together, grounded in secular research and anchored in Torah hashkafah.
If you own a phone, this is relevant to you. Not because you’re failing. Because you’re human.
Registration is open, and I would genuinely love to have you join the conversation. Between each of the live online webinars, you will also have optional opportunities to engage with the women in this private community to share insights, ask questions, or simply provide the kind of encouragement that only comes from shared community. Share this with the women in your life who know this conversation is overdue — sign up together! Real change rarely happens in isolation. It happens when thoughtful people decide to stop pretending everything is fine.
All the best,
Mrs. Aliza Feder
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