Technology’s war against the human hand

In the grand arc of human history, there has been an unmistakable shift away from the direct use of our hands.

I don’t think that’s an accident.

The artistry of the written word, once an act of both intellect and muscle memory, has been flattened into an effortless, thoughtless process.

I think it’s the product of a long-standing agenda, one that has unfolded gradually, spanning centuries. The satanic transhumanist movement, led by our technocratic overlords, seeks to sever humanity’s most fundamental connection to the world: the human hand.

A world made by hand

There was a time when human beings relied on their hands for
everything. The connection between the mind and the hand was supreme.

We built, farmed, carved, wove, and forged the world around us through direct physical engagement. Our hands weren’t just tools. They were extensions of our intellect, will, and creative spirit.

A sacred cycle

Leonardo da Vinci understood this better than most.

To him, painting was not just an art. It was a science, a direct manifestation of human intellect and soul.

He saw the painter’s process as a sacred cycle: through the eyes, the world enters the mind, and through the hands, the mind translates that knowledge onto canvas. This, for da Vinci, was the highest form of mental discourse, a discipline that fused experience, perspective, and universal knowledge into a tangible reality.

J.G. Vibert’s
“The Science of Painting” outlines da Vinci’s five principles of painting:

1. La macchina della visione (the mechanics of vision)
2. Figurare il corpo umano (representing the human body)
3. Ombre, lumi e colori (shadows, light, and colors)
4. La prospettiva aerea (aerial perspective)
5. La mente universale del pittore (the universal mind of the painter)

These principles highlight how deeply the mind-hand connection is embedded in our capacity for creation.

A broken bridge

For da Vinci, the hand was not merely an instrument but an extension of our divine faculties, a bridge between thought and material reality.

But as time has passed, we’ve seen that bridge get dismantled.

The Enlightenment, while expanding intellectual horizons, emphasized the abstract over the tangible. Knowledge became something to be studied rather than experienced.

Then the Industrial Revolution introduced automation, stripping individuals of the necessity to cultivate their hands as tools of creation. The once-intimate bond between thought and touch was diluted. Machines took over the role of shaping the physical world, and the human hand was relegated to monotonous, mechanical tasks.

Despite this, we still maintained some level of engagement with our hands. Writing, for instance, required the physical act of holding a pen, dipping a quill in ink, and forming letters with intention. This preserved a fragment of the mind-hand link.

Digitless digital

But in our present digital era, even this has been taken from us. Now we just tap glass screens with our thumbs. The artistry of the written word, once an act of both intellect and muscle memory, has been flattened into an effortless, thoughtless process.

And now, we stand on the precipice of the final transformation. The rise of brain-computer interfaces — such as Neuralink or Apple Vision — threatens to sever the mind from the hand entirely. Soon, we won’t even type. We will think and the machine will produce the words for us, bypassing our physical selves completely.

This is the ultimate goal of the transhumanist movement: the destruction of the sacred link between mind, body, and soul. Its proponents seek to remove the hand’s divine role in creation, mediation, and interaction with the material world.

A gift from God

The human hand is a gift from God, an instrument of His glory. It allows us to shape reality, our spirits to interface with the physical world. In many ways, our hands are what allow us to exercise our mediation between God and flesh.

Leonardo da Vinci’s vision of art as the ultimate mental discourse stands in direct opposition to this dystopian trajectory. His philosophy teaches us that creation is not merely an intellectual act — it is an embodied one. The hands must engage with the world for the mind to fully realize its potential. Without them, thought remains inert, unfulfilled, trapped in abstraction.

To take away the use of the hand is to take away one of our last connections to the divine. It is to turn us into passive consumers of experience rather than active participants in creation. It is to weaken our ability to interact with the world in the way God intended.

If we are to resist this transformation, we must reclaim the use of our hands. We must build, write, craft, and create. We must reject the fully automated life and embrace the physical world as something meant to be engaged with, not merely observed.

To keep our connection to God intact, we must keep our hands in motion, not just for the sake of productivity, but for the sake of our humanity itself.