Ambivalence toward technology is normal.
For example, in Laura Ingalls Wilder's fictionalized biography about her husband Almanzo, Farmer Boy, Almanzo's father refuses to use the new-to-the-scene threshing machine for fear it will make people lazy and provide too much empty time. He also considers it an unnecessary expense.
Yet other people loved these new threshing machines for harvesting crops.
In another scene in the series (which took place in America's 1880s), one of the characters laments the "modern" reliance on kerosene, recalling that in her childhood, they made out just fine without kerosene. Candles could be made at home from animal fat. But kerosene offered a nicer and cleaner light.
In a book of poems left by a relative born in 1861, my relative recalls her ambivalence toward the radio in a poem she wrote in 1938:
The Radio
The Radio: Now tell me why
I sometimes feel like slaying it?
Or rather still, tossing it out
Not caring where it lit?
To admit this, I'm ashamed.
But tell me folks, now truly?
Don't you also feel the same
And your heart get quite unruly?
***
The Radio: How blest we are
To have you in our homes;
Where sister, brother, mother, and dad
Can spend an evening with you alone.
No going out to pleasure parks
Or municipal building;
We have our music right at home
With no effort on our part.
Late Travelers
Nine, ten, eleven, twelve,
Still the autos hurry past.
Why do they turn night into day?
And try to live so fast?
Each driver of these cars
Is a father, husband, or son.
Now, why aren't they enjoying
Their families in their homes?
Is there no lure for a quiet place
In the heart of man no more?
Where mother sits with her sewing
And children play on the floor.
The auto is a wonderful thing.
It has come to us to stay.
But many a home has been shattered
By its ruthless, persuasive sway.
Furthermore, it was more acceptable socially for men to go out and about and to do so at night.
So she saw cars as a downfall for men, with women and children as the innocent victims.
Her ambivalence toward cars and her concern about their effects on men and families in general reflects many people's feelings toward cellphones and Internet today.
Regarding cellphones and Internet, many people today can identify with the last lines of her poem:
It has come to us to stay.
But many a home has been shattered
By its ruthless, persuasive sway.
In fact, her feelings toward both radios and cars reflect society's usual ambivalence toward technological advancements. Some people always hop aboard the new thing, some reject it for as long as they can, while some admire the benefits while showing concern over the downsides.
Trains, planes, ships, telephones, car phones, cellphones, radios, cars, computers, and Internet all brought up the same mix of appreciation and concern expressed above.
I can't remember the source, but I once read that it's debatable whether the Sanhedrin would've allowed cars, given the high rate of death and injury they cause. (The doubt was regarding personal cars, not emergency vehicles.) And today, many yeshivahs prohibit their students from getting a drivers license due to the same concerns expressed in the poem above.
Yet a car is considered a right today. And in many areas, it's even a necessity.
So yes, today's technology is new.
But its impact on society is not new (although it's increasingly more intense and pervasive than previous technology, but the core impact itself is not new).