Given that I spend much of the day reading, this recent
article on reading in the NYT caught my eye. It's rather long but well worth the time. Of course, I was also rather interested in it because it deals with whether or not the Internet has had a negative impact on the ability of children and adults to think. Reading, of course, is the site of contention in all this. The tussle is over whether interacting with non-traditional texts via the Internet is compromising our ability to store and analyze information. I guess that a high level of competence in traditional literacies has always been a gold-standard of sorts when it comes with academic and intellectual success, and whether being literate in the new media of the Internet promotes a similar form of intellectual growth, retards our ability to think, or complements a more traditional view of literacy and intelligence, is really an interesting debate. Of course, it smacks of the "Is TV Bad For You?" debate, but just as the cloning controversy is a more interesting variation of the abortion debate, the Internet offers more complicated options than TV.
From a personal perspective, I could easily see myself as a proponent of either camp. Given that I've plowed through my fair share of heavy going novels, it would serve my sense of moral indignation to condemn YouTube, Facebook, and yes, blogs. And I think a certain amount of this is clear from the article. Those who speak in defense of more traditional literacies seem motivated to hold off what they see as a decay civilization, as they've defined it of course. I suppose there's a bit of a conservative streak in me that suggests that everyone should avail themselves to the same modes of suffering (as well as pleasure) that I've associated with reading. I get the sense that it's more than "academic outcomes" or "intellectual achievement" that's at stake: It's also about how we define our cultural technologies and who manages to dictate how subjectivities are formed (and controlled) vis a vis these.
I also do my fair share of "new media" perusing. I haven't read a traditional newspaper in years, love YouTube, and when the mood strikes me, could be up there with the most fanatical of users of chat programs (Ok, the last claim is probably untrue, and unlike a real savvy Internet multi-tasker, I really can't do much else except chat when I chat). I often think about how I'd probably wouldn't have done well in the O- and A- Levels or University exams if I had had the Internet access which we all now take for granted. Even now, I get endlessly interrupted (ok, distracted) with all the measureless and meandering paths to procrastination that the Internet has to offer. Surely the time and pleasure one spends surfing has to count for some expansion of one's intellectual powers? So I get it when the hordes of academics cited by the NYT article put up a doughty defense for the new literacies that are so different from traditional reading that new measures and definitions of literacy are called for. At the same time, I wonder if a lot of this has to do with make a big ballyhoo out of very little. I'm really cynical about endless academic claims in support of Internet literacies because they really does come off as cultivating niche areas of research that don't really tell us anything profound about how we think or process information. (I should be honest about this and state that I did write a Masters thesis on how Electronic Message Boards promote critical literacy and empower students .... Hah!) Still, if an academic wins acclaim (and tenure, promotion, and the good life) by defending web-surfing habits, more power to him (and her).
In one sense, the conflict over reading literacy and Internet literacy recalls medieval debates over the growth of writing. With the growth of writing as a technology of the mind, medieval thinkers were afraid that people would lose the arts of memory, and eventually lose both knowledge and the ability to reason because they'd become to dependent on marks on a page. The way that the Internet is becoming everybody's prosthetic memory (and perhaps brain) parallels this medieval anxiety about the loss of knowledge.
This article that is in the Atlantic (which the NYT article refers to) discusses the issue quite nicely. I've never really had a good memory (and no, just because I'm a Lit student does not mean I can quote from the Western canon at will, though if I could it would be really cool ...), so I can't really tell if the Internet has made me dumber. I will, however, say that accumulating information does give one the sense that one has processed and thought about the stuff. So, clicking through links and quickly browsing Wikipedia does often cause me to think that I'm learning stuff that I'm probably not. But this isn't new. I remember how we (while in JC and Uni) would photocopy reams of articles from journals and books and feel as if we'd done a whole lot of studying. It's a good thing that photocopying is so expensive here, it forces me to sit in the library and take notes by hand, and I think I tend to process the information more diligently than if I were to mindlessly underline sections and merely make marginal comments.
I return to this post after a bit of a break.
A book that I finished about a week ago, and had begun when I first started out this post, deals with the relationship between knowing stuff and being smart, and the relevance of factoids in life, involving issues, I guess, that are tangentially touched upon by the articles I refer to above. It's by
A.J. Jacobs, who is quite a character (in a preppy, nerdy, "everyone-graduated-from-Harvard-or-Yale, I-only-went-to-Brown" kind of way), and it's called "The Know It All". It's really quite an intriguing feat that he undertakes. Jacobs decides to read the entire Encycleopedia Britannica. Yup, from A to Z. It's pretty amazing that he manages to do it, all 44 million words within a year, WHILE keeping his day job as an editor at Esquire. It's an easy and entertaining read (Jacobs's book, I mean) but his chatty writing style doesn't obscure the greatness of his achievement or the his enthusiasm for knowledge. Another more recently published book by Ammon Shea, recounts his experience reading the entire
OED.
So what do these epic reading enterprises, undertaken in an age of media proliferation tell us about how knowledge is valued in a world where technology appears to be muscling out traditional literacies? I guess reading has become, from a certain perspective, a vast undertaking. There is now a certain novelty attached to reading, and reading what appears to be dry as dust material for pleasure is an oddity of sorts. I also think that the participatory effect of reading, which is still valued at a really young age, is somehow pushed aside by the richness of the new media. No one reads out loud nowadays, at least it takes a conscious effort to do so; and, people don't read that much to each other anymore. The private experience of reading has been made an even more exclusive and exclusionary practice, since the ease with which one can respond through writing or performing on new media texts makes the performance of the traditional text laborious and time-consuming.
I know all this sounds nostalgic for a past where we spent a little more time feeling the rustle of pages between our fingers, and spending entire days with books rather than blogs, and it is, in part. But I'm just not exactly ready to trumpet the wholesale triumph of the new media over my books, if only because books still look great all lined up on the shelf.
