Internet Brain Changes

[alanajoli]

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?

Comments

[jeff-duntemann.livejournal.com]

Carr is right, though I think the article is a little lightweight for what it's telling us: That we're rewiring ourselves for impatience.

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.

[eclectic-writer.livejournal.com]

I never really thought about the internet "dumbing" me down; more like being a resource that I've become almost wholly dependent on perhaps? As for reading, I remember when ebooks first came out and were touted as the way of the future. I just couldn't make myself think of an online novel as "real" and it felt weird to read it on a screen, but then I realized I'm big into fandom fanfics that can regularly be 65-100k in length, and i'll sit and read those on a screen for hours.

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

[orryn-emrys.livejournal.com]

I'm not sure... Your entry was kinda lengthy and I had a hard time reading it all the way to the end...

*grins*

[sartorias.livejournal.com]

Google makes me faster.

[(Anonymous)]

I don't think the internet has affected my way of reading print. I appreciate the internet for all that it is, and its quite a bit really, but I still enjoy reading a book in my hands. If anything, the internet has made me appreciate print books more. I like to think of print books and e-books as two similar but different things, like apples and oranges. Both have their good and their bad.

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

[basseykay.livejournal.com]

I find that if I am reading an article on the computer I more or less have to break it up into little chunks to get through it. I read a page and do something else, read a page and then do something else, alternating until I've made it through. More often than not these other things are on the internet, but I don't think the internet is to blame. Rather, the problem lies with reading on the computer. Whether that is because of the many distractions the computer offers or simply because reading long prose on a computer is unsatisfying I don't know, though I'd put my money on the latter. If I were to print out the same article (something I try not to do for environmental reasons) I would probably be able to read the whole thing in one shot.

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!

[dmoonfire.livejournal.com]

There is the occasional convention of putting a "tl;dr summary..." at the end of some posts. "tl" being too long. The first time I saw it, it was for a two paragraph (< 35 words total) response. I mean, 35 words and its too long or couldn't bother to read it?

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. :)

[pmoc.livejournal.com]

I like print, hate lugging books around. the Gutenberg project continues to be my favorite source of ebooks. For some reason I can't get enough of that manual of surgery. Plus, I can read it on my beloved blackberry while on the train. So it means one less thing for me to carry. I can't remember not being impatient and impetuous, so if the internet made me this way, who can tell. I mean, I might have honest to goodness have written a full story if I ever had the patience for it.

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.

[randyhoyt.livejournal.com]

I enjoyed meeting you at Mythcon and look forward to reading your report on it. I read this article a few months ago, and I agree with jeff_duntemann: it's quite lightweight for the bold argument it is trying to make. (I fear that the author's conclusion is right, but I need more evidence to be convinced.)

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! :)