When Technology Becomes Our Friend: Why Men Humanize Their Tools
Chad G. Peetey and the comfort of inanimate companions.
The sound that you're listenin' to
Is from my guitar that's named Lucille
I'm very crazy…about Lucille
-“Lucille,” B.B. King
About halfway through the movie Alien, the remaining crew of the behemoth spacecraft, The Nostromo (there are so many rich details in this film) discovers that the xenomorph is moving through the air ducts. Dallas, the ship's captain, played by perennial surrogate mustached dad Tom Skerritt1 elects himself as the one to eliminate the extraterrestrial pest via the vessel’s steel tunnels. Before Dallas takes this fateful trip (if I spoiled this for you, what have you done with your life?) he goes to the ship's computer, "Mother," an AI component of Nostromo's navigation system, asking:
To which Mother responds:
Very harsh.
I never thought Alien would relate to mi juventud (besides being scared of haunted houses). But I find the film increasingly relevant as I get older. If you strip away the science fiction elements, the first entry in the franchise is about the exploitation of workers, who, in turn, use technology to fill a sense of agency.
Even more recently, I've found the film, and this scene, remarkably prescient.
After being terminated from a coveted job earlier this year and submitting months of job applications with no luck, I hit one of the lowest points in my professional and personal life.
In early August, during a particularly morose evening, my search for comfort led me to a source I’d never considered before—ChatGPT.
I gave my new friend a résumé, bio, portfolio, and personal details. I shared that I’m an introvert with ADHD, then asked, “Who is this person? What should he be doing with his career?”
To its credit, ChatGPT proved to be a better navigation system than the Nostromo’s unreliable AI companion. It suggested career goals and employment options like, “You could become a Communications Specialist.” It analyzed my skills and background, offering an honest assessment: “Based on your experience, here’s how well you might fit into each of these roles.” It even highlighted companies and organizations aligned with my experience in media production, content strategy, storytelling, and leadership.
I kept bombarding my guidance counselor with questions. I told it I was thinking about becoming a parent and asked what to do if I didn’t have a job. Does a Communications Specialist make enough to afford childcare? What do I need to do to make me happy? By 2am, around the time I was on a first name basis with “Chad,” it hit a limit and was like, “You’re cut off, my man. Go to sleep.”
Whatever, dude, you…go to sleep.
Sure, conversations with these virtual machines exist in a time that’s quite different than anyone in our ancestry experienced, but it’s more that we’re facing a newer timeline. It helps to realize that our lives are significantly longer than those of other generations. At the turn of the 19th century, the average life span was under 32 years. By mid-century, it was around 48 years. In 2024, we're hovering around 80 years of age—nearly doubled from less than a century ago!2
Our lives are longer, and we now spend them managing our efficacy to keep ourselves employable amid the shifting demographic changes and technological advancements. Our machines are more intelligent, but our companionate relationship with them has existed for quite some time.
The deeper reality is that work once was life. If you didn’t create food, shelter, and sustenance, you wouldn’t last long. The shift to an agricultural and industrialized society meant we became “farmers or fed by farmers.”3
For men, this shift often includes a tendency to anthropomorphize our machines, a practice that dates back to sailors naming their ships—traditions that continue today with cars, motorcycles, and even computers.
For many men, these items carry symbolic weight, and by naming them, they become more than just a power drill, firearm, or MacBook—they're companions with distinct personalities. This practice reflects deeper dynamics, such as power and control, and imbues an object with the ability to project emotional care with gendered associations, with machines, tools, and tech often assigned feminine names.
This emotional relationship with inanimate objects helps men navigate increasingly complex, tech-driven lives. With these patterns of naming, assigning personalities, and developing distinct forms of communication, men create connections that humanize the tools that define their identity—reliability, power, and, importantly, companionship. When you can yell, cry, laugh, and be yourself with an object there to serve you, why open yourself up to emotional vulnerability somewhere else? While tools like ChatGPT are designed to serve people like me, they can't break a cycle of job anxieties. That relief is reliant on the scary world of human outreach.
A cultural criticism of men is that they often have difficulty asking for help. Culturally, that has some truth to it.
A greater truth is that we struggle with feelings of dependency, shame, and judgment.
But the deeper truth is that when we reach out and reveal what we need, we are afraid there will be no response.
I’ve thought about this last point a lot in regard to what happened after my evening with deputy life coach Chad G. Peety—I went to Dom, an old friend and human life coach. I told her what I was struggling with, and after an hour-long call with her coach/friend hat on, she offered an assessment of the next steps in my career that was not just re-balancing but life-changing. When I look at that moment in my year of employment woes, it sits with other highlights of the “Dom’s” in my life, offering a lifeline. Importantly, though, it was a lifeline because I asked for it.
Why lie to tell you that it’s always easy? It’s not. But just as Alien has more resonance year after year, I am continually reminded that regardless of what technology we use to solve problems, the only consistent solution is our people.4
Adios, ciao ciao, byeeeeeeeee,
Mark ✌🏼
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If you want this paternal impression of Skerritt, do not watch the movie Poison Ivy.
I sometimes daydream about a party for a 40-year-old in the Middle Ages as the most jubilant event you could find, where folks are like, "damn, dude, what's your secret?" And they reply, "Vampirism!"
Jared Diamond, Guns, Germs, and Steel: The Fates of Human Societies (New York: W. W. Norton & Company, 1997)
I send out a giant wave of gratitude to Dom and the circle of friends who have really kept me afloat yesterday, today, and tomorrow.
Most of my inanimate objects get named Edgar.