So here’s a question: do you understand your phone? I don’t mean do you know how to use it. I mean do you know how it works, how it does the things it does?

Not to underestimate your knowledge of modern technology, but it’s a fair bet to assume that this familiar little box – your enduring, omnipresent companion – is a total mystery to you.

Every day, you tap away at a pane of glass, your words and thoughts lit large before your eyes. And somehow those very thoughts will make their way through the ether to someone else, somewhere else, a million points of light streaming into their retinas.

Can you honestly say you remotely understand any of the processes involved – physical or digital – in making that happen? Me, I’ve got nothing. Not a scooby doo.

And there’s so much more to these little devices in our pockets. What about gyroscopes, accelerometers, millions of imperceptible colours and an array of cameras with lenses so tiny, complex and alien they might as well exist in a black hole in a far-off galaxy?

VR… AR… AI… WTF?

It’s all in there, and it’s mind boggling if you try to think about it.

But it’s not just phones. Our daily lives are full of this stuff too.

I'm currently sitting on a train writing this piece (on my phone, naturally). I look up. Beyond the extremely complex mechanics and hydraulics propelling the train forward, there are electronic signals controlling the safety systems, the doors, the info screens and a whole lot more. I look out the window and see a plane overhead: an enormous heavier-than-air tube of metal with things like autopilot and oxygen systems and miles of wiring, just… up there in the sky. I struggle to understand a hot air balloon, let alone a plane.

My mind wanders beyond the world of travel and my own narrow existence to brain scanners, nuclear power plants and towers a kilometre tall.

Meanwhile, all this is underpinned by a multitude of mind-bending scientific discoveries like quantum mechanics and the theory of relativity. So I’m told.

How in the world are we supposed to wrap our heads around it?

It’s a far cry from The Olden Days.

Once upon a time, we would fashion our tools out of stone or wood or even metal. And though it would require a level of dedication and skill to do well, it was still achievable for anyone willing to try. Simpler tools for simpler times.

But discovery upon discovery upon discovery has given us a world so layered with complexity, that life in the 21st century is simply unknowable. The weight of the world’s cumulative knowledge bears down upon us to the degree that we have become wilfully oblivious to the universe of wisdom propping up our very existence.

Something in this predicament is not quite right; in this connected world we live in, we’re more disconnected than ever.

So what do we do?

Is there a way to bridge the chasm between our tiny individual brains and our giant collective brain? Perhaps not. It seems that boat has sailed, and it’s disappearing fast beyond the horizon. Do we instead try to negotiate a life in which we are increasingly unreconciled with the enormity of our modern existence?

You could argue that it doesn’t matter. So what if we don’t understand everything – or even anything – about the everyday things we use. They work. We work. Just get on with it.

And you’re right. It doesn’t really matter. I can get through life just fine piggybacking on the collective brilliance of humanity. To paraphrase Isaac Newton, I can stand on the shoulders of giants and just enjoy the ride. But the truth is, I can’t properly enjoy the ride. Newton’s actual quote talks of ‘seeing further’. And there’s the problem. Unlike the man who discovered gravity, I can’t see further. I’m just carried along, blind in my own ignorance. And not knowing, not understanding even the fundamentals of my very ordinary life sits a little uneasy with me.

So again, what do we do?

I pulled and pulled at this thread, hoping it would reveal a satisfying answer. But I found nothing. There’s no neat conclusion. I was left only with the realisation that as we – the world – get cleverer, we – the people – get stupider. And that’s a terrible irony we’re just going to have to live with.