That which exists through itself requires no external justification. The foundation of ethical technology begins not with rules imposed from without, but with principles discovered within the nature of creation itself.
To build well is to recognize that every artifact carries within it the values of its maker. A bridge speaks of the engineer's understanding of gravity and trust. A poem reveals the poet's relationship with truth. And so too does every line of code, every system architecture, every interface decision betray the moral universe of those who shaped it.
The first book concerns itself with foundations: the ground upon which all subsequent reasoning must stand. Just as Spinoza began with substance -- that which is in itself and conceived through itself -- we begin with the irreducible fact that technology is a moral enterprise. Not because we choose to make it so, but because it cannot be otherwise.
No technology exists in isolation from the web of human intentions that gave it form. Therefore, to understand any system, one must understand the desires, fears, and assumptions of those who built it.
Consider the humble database schema. In its columns and constraints lie embedded judgments about what matters and what does not, what is permitted and what is forbidden. A field marked "required" is a moral statement. A foreign key constraint is an assertion about the nature of relationships. The schema is not merely a technical artifact but a philosophical one -- a miniature ontology declaring what exists and how things connect.
The reader will observe that we make no distinction here between "technical" and "ethical" decisions. This is deliberate. The separation of technology from ethics is itself an ethical choice -- and a dangerous one. When we pretend that systems are value-free, we merely render their values invisible, and invisible values are the most powerful of all.