Enslaving things

It’s an obvious truth – almost too obvious to need pointing out, really – that the world consists of two kinds of things: those with inner lives, and those without. Humans, plus presumably at least some animals, have thoughts, emotions, and intentions; cars, table lamps, and jars of peanut butter do not. What’s strange, given the obviousness of this fact, is how much of every day I seem to spend in denial of it, treating inanimate objects as if they had minds. I’m writing this on a computer I frequently suspect of plotting to sabotage my work; I get into aggressive disputes with hard-to-open packaging and recalcitrant bottles of ketchup; I have been known to plead with cars in an effort to dissuade them from stalling on steep hills. I hold