Aug 28, 2024–Someone proposed we start a religious sect called the New Amish, emulating those sons of Menno whose followers in America effectively froze all progress at the random date of 1878.
Why not do the same 100 years on?
I grew up among Amish and Mennonite friends, neighbors, and classmates. Depending on the sect, they drove horses and buggies, dressed in dark blue, wore beards, and eschewed technology that tied them to “the English”–their label for non-followers–such as electricity, phones, motorized vehicles, and television.
While I respected their choice of lifestyle, among schoolboys it was not uncommon to gently mock them for their adherence to The Old Ways. But now, from my loftier perspective and age, where I also drive slowly, sport random facial hair, and dress only in drab clothes, I am beginning to understand their abhorrence of all things modern.
So let’s do a thought experiment.
What would life be like if we stopped using all technology created after 1978? What would you miss most, or least, and what would be the effect?
I asked this question of random people last week, and their first and most obvious response was there would be no cell phones. Interestingly, most said they wouldn’t miss them.
As with any new technology, they first opened up a world of wonder and possibility. They quickly degraded into Pandora’s boxes of titillating videos, shady marketplaces, and addictive swiping.
In our New Amish World, all internet would be banished. We could keep our dial phones, and even concede to fax machines. But telephones would have one function: to talk to another person who was not within talking distance.
Kitchen Appliances
Imagine a kitchen with one oven and one refrigerator. Our counters would be clean and spacious, with no breadmakers, Keurigs, air fryers, or Bullets. I think microwaves existed in 1978, though bulky, noisy, and Amana.
Food
While we 1978ers would starve if we needed to survive on what we raised in our backyards, we could at least go back to eating food that we prepared rather than unwrapped and zapped. Remember when you shredded lettuce, chopped carrots, cubed cheese, and squeezed lemons? Watermelon would have seeds. Grapefruit would have to be excavated from its clinging rind. Strawberries stemmed, green beans snapped, and peas shelled. The only food sold in cellophane would be Twinkies.
Fashion
Eyeing 1970s fashion, it would be awkward if we continued to walk around wearing permed hair, bell bottoms, long pointed collars, and tie-dyed tees. Watching grandma negotiate the church steps in platform shoes would be a religious experience.
While true Amish only use hooks and eyes to hold up their pants, we would allow zippers and yes, even Velcro. But no spandex.
Music
If we froze culture in 1978, we’d be stuck in the disco era. We’d still be Staying Alive and Getting Down Tonight. Of course, country and polka wouldn’t change.
Vehicles
Yes, we could own and drive cars. But only cars whose combustion was internal.
I would also propose cars had to be named for animals. So we could only drive Ford Pintos and Mustangs, Mercury Cougars, and Chevy Impalas. No Vibes, Quests, or Souls.
Worship
I remember the Catholic church still having the option of Latin mass in the’70s. I would go back to the fundamentals in all church services, before the era of “worship music,” often described as repeating the same 8 words 17 times accompanied by a powerpoint of nature scenes.
Vice
Everything else that existed in 1978–even vices–would be allowed. Men would smoke William Penns and drink Cutty Sark. Women would smoke Lucky Strikes and sip wine coolers. And coffee would only be served black, in ceramic mugs with one green horizontal stripe, and unlimited refills.
This is all offered tongue in cheek, of course. It wouldn’t work.
Even the original Amish couldn’t make getting stuck in time stick.
As soon as tenets were professed, sects arose. Instead of plowing with horses, tractors were allowed, but only tractors with iron wheels. Men could drive cars, as long as the drivers were men and the cars were black. Telephones were OK, but you had to walk to the neighbor’s to use one.
For every proscription, there arose three ways to get around it. Same with the New Amish. It wouldn’t be long before we were faxing photos of our breakfast and building cabbage slicers out of baling wire.
Can thee fax me an Amen?
XXX
Phil Houseal is a writer and owner of Full House PR.
You can’t contact him because email and cell phones haven’t been invented yet.