In a Manhattan podcast studio at Condé Nast headquarters, an unusual media representative sat down for an interview. His name is Gowanus, he is made of literal garbage, and his origin story begins in a dumpster in the Brooklyn neighborhood that shares his name. He serves as the media puppet for the Summer of Ludd, a Luddite festival held in New York earlier this month that banned phones, recordings, and photographs, requiring attendees to simply be present.
Despite his philosophical opposition to digital media, Gowanus agreed to the interview on one condition: a handwritten contract stipulating that no short-form video clips be produced from the conversation. The goal, he explained, was to encourage people to engage with the full interview rather than scrolling past bite-sized content. After negotiation, a compromise was reached allowing only a clip of Gowanus explaining the contract itself.
Why a Puppet? Anonymity Rooted in History
The choice of a puppet as the movement's public face is a deliberate nod to the original Luddites, British textile workers in the early 19th century who anonymously organized against technology that threatened their livelihoods. They faced oppression from the Crown and local militias, making anonymity essential. Gowanus explained that the modern movement similarly avoids creating individual figureheads, using the puppet to preserve that tradition of anonymity.
While the term "Luddite" has evolved into a pejorative label for someone who is simply bad with technology or opposed to it, the Summer of Ludd sought to redefine it. Gowanus described a modern Luddite as someone who offers a deeper critique of technology, questioning the widely accepted assumption that technology equals progress by default. He pointed to Silicon Valley's founding mantra of "move fast and break things" as a mindset people are increasingly questioning.
The movement has been notably embraced by Gen Z, the first generation to grow up entirely online. Gowanus noted that many young people feel they missed out on genuine human experiences because they served as what he called "guinea pigs for Mark Zuckerberg." However, he emphasized that the movement attracts people across all age groups, noting that the hyper-acceleration of technology over the past two decades has flattened generational distinctions, leaving both teenagers on TikTok and boomers on Facebook experiencing similar feelings of alienation and chronic online consumption.
Big Tech, Not All Tech: A Critical Distinction
Gowanus was careful to clarify that the movement targets Big Tech specifically, not technology in general. He pointed out that the movement actively creates its own technology, including newsletters, RSS feeds, and alternative information systems designed to serve communities rather than extract value from them. During the festival, an event called "What Are You Doing Tonight? How to Create Your Own Events Calendar" brought together people who run newsletters and alternative tech platforms to teach others how to build independent information flows away from major social media companies.
The core ethos of the movement traces back to the original Luddites, who declared themselves "against machines harmful to commonality that tears unduly at the social fabric." Gowanus translated this as opposition to machines that accelerate wealth inequality, tear apart communities, and atomize people. He cited AI and automation threatening both working-class and white-collar jobs, including entry-level coding positions where workers essentially train the AI tools that could replace them.
The festival featured an event called Delete Day, where participants sat in a circle and deleted apps from each other's phones collectively. The exercise acknowledged that leaving platforms like Instagram or Hinge is difficult due to genuine reliance, and doing it as a group made it more manageable. Discussions explored why platforms like Spotify fail to pay artists a living wage and how dating apps have made romance more transactional.
