When you think of the Amish, chances are you imagine horse-drawn buggies, handmade furniture, and an unwavering commitment to avoiding all things modern. But here’s the twist: the Amish don’t reject technology outright. Instead, they have a surprisingly thoughtful and nuanced approach to deciding what tech gets a green light—and what doesn’t.

The real question the Amish ask isn’t, “Is this gadget too modern for us?” It’s “What will this technology do to our community?” Their decisions revolve around whether an innovation will bring people closer or drive them apart, strengthen family bonds or erode them, and maintain their way of life or disrupt it entirely. As the website Amishpedia puts it, “The Amish are actually opposed to things that will make people more distant from each other and less caring about their neighbors.”

This explains why you might spot an Amish carpenter using a pneumatic drill but still traveling by buggy. Tools like drills support family businesses and traditional trades, allowing parents and children to work together and pass down valuable skills. Cars, on the other hand? Not so much. They’re seen as a fast track to independence that could pull people away from their tightly knit communities.

Then there’s the telephone—a prime example of Amish compromise. Many Amish households forgo private phones entirely but share a community phone for emergencies. This setup balances the need for communication with their preference for face-to-face interaction, keeping the “drop by for a chat” culture alive and well. It’s a clever way to ensure that phones don’t become a substitute for visiting your neighbors or, worse, a distraction from family life.

And yes, some Amish businesses use computers and credit card machines—but with boundaries as strict as a teacher monitoring recess. These tools are often stashed in a separate building and used exclusively for business purposes, keeping work and home life as distinct as pie and mashed potatoes. Similarly, solar panels are gaining popularity in certain communities—not to stream Netflix but to stay self-sufficient and power essential tools.

What’s especially interesting is that no two Amish communities have exactly the same rules. Decisions about technology are made at the church district level—typically 20 to 30 families—resulting in a patchwork of different approaches. One community might embrace solar power while another says, “Nah, we’re good with candles.”

So, what can we learn from the Amish approach to technology? For starters, they remind us that we don’t have to mindlessly swipe right on every new gadget. Their method is a masterclass in intentionality: Does this tool bring us closer together or drive us apart? Does it serve our values or steer us off course? In our world of endless notifications, it’s a question worth asking.