One of the central themes in “How It Happened” is the relationship between humans and their technology. In particular, while machines are often seen as beneficial for their human users, this story suggests that there might be a darker side to the relationship. The narrator’s enthusiasm for his new 30-horsepower Robur, for instance, leads him to drive a car which he is not able to operate safely. Because he forgoes safety precautions, his new car ironically proves to be less safe than his older, less technologically advanced car: despite its superior handling, 30-horsepower engine, and bright headlights, the narrator cannot stop the car from crashing, killing him and injuring Perkins. Thus, while the narrator is at fault for his own arrogance, the story suggests that the car’s advanced technology is also to blame: the appeal of the new, flashy car encourages the narrator to act recklessly and foolishly.
As the story unfolds, the dangerous aesthetic appeal of the car becomes even more apparent. As the car careens down the hill, the narrator finds himself admiring the beauty of their perilous descent, imagining how they would appear to anyone watching as a “great, roaring, golden death.” In this way, the narrator’s relationship to the car becomes self-destructive as he associates the deadly nature of the car with its aesthetic appeal, even as it threatens to kill him. Accordingly, the story serves as a cautionary tale about how technology can be just as deadly as it can be useful. As a story written at the end of the First World War, a conflict in which machines were used to kill millions of people, this moral should come as no surprise: it reflects Doyle’s having seen firsthand the damage that the combination of technology and human hubris can do.
Related Themes from Other Texts
Humans and Technology ThemeTracker
Humans and Technology Quotes in How It Happened
Then I remember the big motor, with its glaring headlights and glitter of polished brass, waiting for me outside. It was my new thirty-horse-power Robur, which had only been delivered that day.
“I’ll try her myself,” said I, and I climbed into the driver’s seat.
“The gears are not the same,” said he. “Perhaps, sir, I had better drive.”
“No; I should like to try her,” said I.
It was foolish, no doubt, to begin to learn a new system in the dark, but one often does foolish things, and one has not always to pay the full price for them.
I remember thinking what an awful and yet majestic sight we should appear to any one who met us. It was a narrow road, and we were just a great, roaring, golden death to any one who came in our path.
