The Machine (n.) is a teacher: it models the party apparatus and modern warfare, makes of many one machine and of each an instrument — its broadest lesson is the utility of centralization.
The Machine (n.) is a product of the highest intellect yet sets in motion in its servants almost nothing but lower energies: it makes men active and uniform, and breeds a despairing boredom that longs for idleness.
The Machine (n.) is impersonal: it strips work of its pride and its individual faults — its little bit of humanity — so that where furniture once symbolised mutual esteem we live amid anonymous, impersonal slavery.
Machine (n.) is impersonal: it removes pride in work, its particular goodness or flaws, and so its small share of humanity, leaving an anonymous slavery.
Machine (n.) does not teach autonomy: it turns whole groups into machines and every individual into a specialized tool.