Metaphors matter.

When we think about the brain as an information-processing computer (with hard-wiring, inputs and outputs, errors and bugs), we misunderstand its fundamental nature. We think we can control it, program it, like we do our machines. Tweak it. Tune it. Overclock it to drive more power through it. Hack it.

That's a problem for the way we treat our own brains, but even worse, this kind of perspective starts to drive the way we see and treat other nonlinear, complex systems -- ecologies, businesses, schools, governments.

For example, when we treat natural systems -- ecologies -- as if they were machines, we ravage them. We have the expectation that we can do whatever we like and it won't have larger impacts, that we can repair the damage afterward (e.g.,monoculture highly organised re-plantings after destruction of highly divergent forest systems), or that we can introduce new elements safely and cleverly to fix problems (a non-native species to reduce a local problem, which then itself takes over).

When we treat a business' employees as if they were a machine, we overwork them, poison them, underpay them, bore them into poor quality work.

When we treat our students as if they were machines, we line them up in place for extended periods, give them information to “process” and repeat back, treat diversity in skills and personality as problems to be fixed (disciplined or medicated), set specific outcome performance expectations (standardised testing and teaching to testing).

When we treat our governments and voters as machines, we focus on the numbers (polls, election wins, fundraising success), spin information to lead to a particular mode of “information-processing”, manipulate what information voters have available, allow representatives to bully and berate and belittle each other, have all-night debates and forced negotiations (because who needs to sleep to make the best decisions? Not a computer!), get angry when the other side can't be fixed to operate correctly, work to “hack” the system (literally or figuratively).

And when we treat our brain as a machine, we use it like one. We ask it to go without sleep, we don't feed it the nutrients it needs, we take a pill to wake it up or put it to sleep or make it concentrate or stop it from feeling. We think there’s something wrong with us when it doesn’t work according to the “specs” others (or ourselves) say it should.

As a consequence of machining our living world, we lose respect for ourselves and our brains and bodies. We lose respect for others. We lose respect for the natural world we are part of and depend on.

And when we lose respect for something, we tend to teat it badly, discount its importance, lower our expectations for what it might contribute to our well-being as well as our interest in receiving anything from it. We ignore what it might need from us, unless it's obviously "broken" and needing repair to provide what we do expect from it. And we want out repairs to be as cheap and quick as possible.

Our entire perspective is different when we view the world through a mechanical lens.

That's why it's so critical to have a metaphor that matches the way the world really works - not what we've imposed on it.

Metaphors matter.