Entry tags:
Internet Brain Changes
Here I am, back from MythCon (for which I only had to drive 45 minutes) and still in the midst of busy times, as I have a deadline this week and another one next week. I keep expecting things to get back to normal one of these days, where I have a regular schedule and a feeling of continuity from one thing to the next. Then I wonder if that's a mythical state of consciousness that didn't really ever exist anyway. A girl can dream, right?
I definitely plan to talk a bit about MythCon, but an article I just read in Atlantic Monthly has demanded my primary attention. It came back in at the library today and the cover of the magazine, which read "Is Google Making You Stoopid," got my attention. The article itself, by Nicholas Carr, isn't about Google in particular (though it does get some dominant mention), but the internet in general. Carr argues that the internet is making it difficult for people to focus on longer texts, that he and many others have experienced how hard it is to read a long piece of print. He cites examples of neuro-science that show how the brian is malleable and its processes reflect the way it receives information. But what I find interesting is this, as it applies to me. When I am on the computer, with the internet as an active possibility and the myriad of tasks present on my desktop that I could be doing other than the one I'm working on, I absolutely find myself distracted and unable to focus. This was the main reason why I unplugged my laptop, disabled the wireless connection, and worked from the living room couch a good chunk of the time when I was writing my novels. (I recall this being true of writing my thesis in college, as well--I had to turn off the internet to get my writing done.) I work well on a laptop that serves solely as a word processor. Because I often require internet as a way to get information for what I'm writing, having the ability to turn that back on is useful--but once I'm focused on the writing, it has to go away, or I'm distracted.
By contrast, when I'm reading a novel, distractions remain annoying interruptions, irritations, and aggravations. Even things I normally enjoy--phone calls, getting together with friends, going out for ice cream, going to the beach--irk me instead of being met with enthusiasm. So here is what I suspect is the flaw in Carr's theory: the internet may well change the way we think, and, if unchecked by other forms of reading, it may well affect our ability to read print. But if it remains balanced by other forms of reading (prose, poetry, novels, nonfiction tomes, comics), then it has *less* opportunity to impact how we think. A novel is still a novel, and reading them is still one of my greatest joys and favorite past times (otherwise, why in the world would I want to create them?). And the type of reading that they require of me--that difference between internet reading and prose reading--is one of the reasons I so seldom read fiction online. If there's a story I want to read, I often print it out and sit somewhere where I won't be distracted by pop ups or links. (I know. Bad for the environment. I do reuse paper, if that's a consolation. And I recycle. I'll make a bigger effort next time to buy post-consumer recycled paper, now that I've got my own conscience irritated with me).
What do you think? Has online reading affected how you read print? Am I alone in my reading habits? And what about reading e-books on a portable device--like your iPhone, which has an e-book reader app downloaded by one of four or five users?
I definitely plan to talk a bit about MythCon, but an article I just read in Atlantic Monthly has demanded my primary attention. It came back in at the library today and the cover of the magazine, which read "Is Google Making You Stoopid," got my attention. The article itself, by Nicholas Carr, isn't about Google in particular (though it does get some dominant mention), but the internet in general. Carr argues that the internet is making it difficult for people to focus on longer texts, that he and many others have experienced how hard it is to read a long piece of print. He cites examples of neuro-science that show how the brian is malleable and its processes reflect the way it receives information. But what I find interesting is this, as it applies to me. When I am on the computer, with the internet as an active possibility and the myriad of tasks present on my desktop that I could be doing other than the one I'm working on, I absolutely find myself distracted and unable to focus. This was the main reason why I unplugged my laptop, disabled the wireless connection, and worked from the living room couch a good chunk of the time when I was writing my novels. (I recall this being true of writing my thesis in college, as well--I had to turn off the internet to get my writing done.) I work well on a laptop that serves solely as a word processor. Because I often require internet as a way to get information for what I'm writing, having the ability to turn that back on is useful--but once I'm focused on the writing, it has to go away, or I'm distracted.
By contrast, when I'm reading a novel, distractions remain annoying interruptions, irritations, and aggravations. Even things I normally enjoy--phone calls, getting together with friends, going out for ice cream, going to the beach--irk me instead of being met with enthusiasm. So here is what I suspect is the flaw in Carr's theory: the internet may well change the way we think, and, if unchecked by other forms of reading, it may well affect our ability to read print. But if it remains balanced by other forms of reading (prose, poetry, novels, nonfiction tomes, comics), then it has *less* opportunity to impact how we think. A novel is still a novel, and reading them is still one of my greatest joys and favorite past times (otherwise, why in the world would I want to create them?). And the type of reading that they require of me--that difference between internet reading and prose reading--is one of the reasons I so seldom read fiction online. If there's a story I want to read, I often print it out and sit somewhere where I won't be distracted by pop ups or links. (I know. Bad for the environment. I do reuse paper, if that's a consolation. And I recycle. I'll make a bigger effort next time to buy post-consumer recycled paper, now that I've got my own conscience irritated with me).
What do you think? Has online reading affected how you read print? Am I alone in my reading habits? And what about reading e-books on a portable device--like your iPhone, which has an e-book reader app downloaded by one of four or five users?
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The article itself discusses the difference between internet reading and newspaper reading, though I don't think I actually took it in well enough to re-explain it.
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Love your icon, by the way. ;)
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That's what I see in myself: I want any printed item to deliver the goods and deliver them fast. This is a relatively new thing with me (new within the past ten or twelve years) and I'm not sure what to ascribe it to except for the Internet-spawned expectation of instant answers and extremely focused treatments.
I wasn't always this way. As an undergraduate 35 years ago I read Chaucer in Middle English and took days of odd moments to read a single tale, relishing the challenge. I'm not sure I could do that anymore without extreme effort. I'm a results-oriented reader now, and although I don't think I read a great deal less than I did in the 1970s, I expect more of what I read, and get annoyed more easily when an author gets to a point in a way more roundabout than I feel is warranted.
One issue that Carr touches only lightly on is that we live almost unthinkably richer lives of the mind than we did even twenty or thirty years ago. When I was in college, I took for granted that there were only so many hours in the day, and I could only spend so many of them in the De Paul University library. (I had a job, duties to my family--I lived at home--my writing, and of course, Carol.) I didn't expect to be able to expose myself to much more than my coursework required. Today I have Wells' World Brain right on my desk, ready to chase loose ends for me to the far corners of human knowledge. There are no more hours in the day than there were in 1973, but if I want to ask a question, the Magic Mirror is only a few steps from anywhere in the house. (We have computers here like some people have mice--and CAT5E to every room in the house.) The temptation to ask is not easily resisted, and there's the risk of burying oneself in loose ends when what one wants is the big picture.
You're bang-on about keeping the channels balanced. That's why I budget time to sit and read longish, dryish books like The Fall of the Dynasties and James, the Brother of Jesus. Like any other skill, you have to practice. I played piano in college. I practiced. I haven't played for over thirty years. I don't think I could play now without days of extremely focused catching up, and even then I wonder how well I would do. I'm interested in too many things, and I'm not used to thinking that my mind has limitations. But it does. In vain hope of doing everything I want to do, I end up doing small slices of too many things, not all of them well.
By the way, don't feel bad about printing material to paper. Even if it ends up in a landfill, paper buried is carbon taken out of the atmosphere. If conscience besets you, plant a tree.
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Which means that I probably ought to get back to one of those challenging reads again before my brain rewires to much!
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I do, however, wonder about the younger generations, teens and those just leaving teenhood, who have grown with the net and computers. Then again, Harry Poter sales to that age group were good and kids are still reading things like Twilight and YA lit so *shrug*.
And I felt like I was rambling and not really making a point. Okay, point is: word. ;-P
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I do wonder about difference between reading ebooks and fanfiction, though. Is it the knowledge that you *can* get the ebooks in print, while the fanfiction exists only in an online space?
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*grins*
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(Anonymous) 2008-08-20 10:44 am (UTC)(link)I've definitely been known to print out something and read it as opposed to read something lengthy online too. I also have been known to fall into the time-sink known as internet surfing. :P
-Albone
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But I agree. I like my paper. As Rupert Giles once said, "Books smell."
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(Anonymous) 2008-08-24 02:52 am (UTC)(link)Tthe Buffy quote... you are the coolest, especially because Giles rules.
-Albone
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And also, with Buffy quotes. Because the world is a better place with librarian characters like Giles in it. (And also librarians like Terry Pratchett's the Librarian, but "Ook, eek," is harder to quote out of context. But I digress)
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My real point is this, however: I believe the presence of a computer is significant here, not past exposure to one. If that is the case then this can not be a case of the brain being rewired—instead it simply says something about the immediate effect of computers.
It would be an interesting study. Perhaps it's been done already. If I didn't have to run to work I'd poke around and try to find out!
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I don't like reading larger works online, I'd rather have them in print or something I can move and sit on the couch; the laptop is not comfortable to read. But, I have noticed a slight change in reading online. I like it shorter. But, I still prefer longer novels and stories... just in print. :)
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I wonder if part of it is the computer glow, as well. My eyes are more prone to getting tired from reading online than reading in print. If that technology continues to improve (on of the e-readers supposedly has the same luster as paper), I wonder how that will change reading further. You could still curl up with it on the couch--and yet, it won't be a "book" in the traditional sense.
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I am actually taking a break from reading The Hobbit on the laptop, at the moment. So it's funny that I read this now. I definitely have a shorter attention span than I did. Can't blame the internet entirely though, people were saying the same thing about television. When I was in college I would spend hours in the library reading. But now, I just don't have the whim as there is so much material at my fingertips. In fact, there is more content everytime I type. It's very self gratifying. And not in that icky way either.
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Someone said above that Google and Wikipedia make them faster, which it no doubt does. Google Books has expanded my ability to do research, allowing me to preview and search books that I could then find at libraries near me. It just requires a lot more discipline to stay focused, I think.
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I randomly came across an article today that referenced Carr's article, and I thought it worth mentioning here:
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From "Our Kids Are Failing - And It's All Wikipedia's Fault!"
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Researching isn't about the tools--it's about learning to use the tools. If you've got a "smarter" research engine, you have to be smarter in how you apply it. But that's just my two cents. :)
Edit: And as I finish the article (which I'd just skimmed before replying to you), I see that's effectively the same argument they're making. So maybe Carr's point originally shouldn't have been about our intelligence, but about our patience!
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I will write about my own reading habits in another comment -- I need to be doing other stuff right now, though, and I let your site distract me from that! :)
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While this may be in line with Carr's point--if he'd made it meatier, would the audience for which he was writing have read it? (It sounds like you and Jeff would have--I read the article while at the reference desk at the library, distracted by patrons rather than internet opportunities, but still multitasking. Something more clinical or technical, I don't think I could have managed!)
But yes, I'd certainly like to see some more research on what he's discussing. It's interesting enough to merit further lay-reading, since neuroscience really isn't my specialty!