GIC director Josine Overdevest writes about the value of the pause: in technology design, in how we use digital tools, and in the pace of our lives. What do we gain when we slow down enough to ask why?
“Let’s build a fence around the city so they can’t get back in!” the Uber driver jokes, and we both laugh. We’re talking about how wonderful Johannesburg feels during Dezemba, the summer holidays when schools, universities and businesses close down, people travel home or head for the beaches of Durban and Cape Town. A gentler rhythm settles over the city. And although the driver will miss part of his clientele, it’s a pause we both savour.
Taking a pause to rest, to reflect, to spend time with loved ones, feels increasingly precious. Not just in Joburg, but everywhere, life seems to run at a relentlessly hectic pace. Like I see mirrored in the Joburg taxi drivers frantically navigating the traffic, always rushing, hooting, egging each other on and breaking the rules, often resulting in unsafe conditions and frustration for their passengers and fellow road users.
What does maintaining this hectic pace bring us and what does it cost us, as individuals and as a society?
The rapid technological advances of the past few years have accelerated this pace. We’re told to move faster, know everything, be more efficient. I sometimes feel overwhelmed by the ‘AI everywhere’ wave that has washed over us since the widespread introduction of generative AI in late 2023. This fast pace of development also seems to accelerate negative, often unintended, consequences: widening digital divides, escalating energy and water consumption, and the infringement of human rights. Ethicists and regulators scramble to add guardrails to new technologies, but that often feels like locking the barn once the horse has bolted.
At the same time, technology users are beginning to push back. Digital detoxes, off-grid weekends, a desire to opt out entirely. But stepping away completely would also mean missing out on what technology genuinely offers: connection with people wherever they are, access to knowledge and information, applications that contribute to human well-being. The question isn’t whether we use technology, but why and how.
What would it be like to pause before we engage?
As a user, that pause might be as simple as asking: Why am I reaching for my device right now? What am I hoping to find? In Ian McEwan’s What We Can Know (a book I highly recommend), set in 2119, the protagonist must travel to a remote mountain library to access vast digital archives. Even with everything digitally accessible, he must make the journey, then carefully sift through overwhelming amounts of data. The barriers force pause and intentionality into his research.
That same pause and intentionality could also serve us well in the design and development of new technological applications, instead of pushing ahead simply because we can.
Movements like Slow Tech resist the reflex that faster is always better. Instead, they invite us to design technologies that are context-aware, humane and sustainable, technologies that serve human flourishing. And what is human flourishing? In short, I would call it the space for dignity, meaning, agency and connection. Qualities that suffer under permanent acceleration, but that thrive when we take time to reflect.
This is where the Guidance Ethics approach, developed by Professor Peter-Paul Verbeek and Daniël Tijink, becomes particularly valuable. Rather than treating ethics as compliance or an afterthought, Guidance Ethics embeds ethical reflection inside the design process from the start. Designers, developers, users, ethicists and other stakeholders are brought into conversation early, asking not only “can we build this?” but “how will this shape human behaviour, relationships and agency in practice?”
The intentional pause brings ethics in as an accompaniment, rather than an afterthought.
Going back to Johannesburg, I’ve noticed that in parts of the inner city with many pedestrians, like around the Wits University campus, new traffic-calming measures have appeared: speed bumps, pedestrian islands and traffic lights embedded into raised crossings. They don’t stop the busy traffic. They slow it just enough to make it safer and more considerate for all road users.
What if we designed similar intentional slowdowns into our technology work? Speed bumps in our systems, our processes, our cultures, moments that invite reflection before deployment, before scaling, before unintended harm becomes embedded.
We then wouldn’t need a fence around the city at all, like the Uber driver suggested. Just the willingness to pause, and a few well-placed speed bumps to remind us why.
The IFIP IP3 Global Industry Council (GIC) serves as the principal forum for employers and educators to engage with IP3 and shape the global ICT profession. Each month, they feature relevant and insightful ideas in IFIP Insights.
Image Caption: In Praise of the Pause created by Josine Overdevest using ChatGPT