I started this blog, Inciting Thought, in part because, based on many (but certainly not all) of my interactions with people, I've come to the conclusion that society (generally speaking) has lost--or, is losing--the ability to think. Some possible contributing factors: the United States' education system, the influence of mass media, and a general narcissistic attitude.
When I read The Shallows: What the Internet is Doing to Our Brains by Nicholas Carr (which I also referred to in Think About Solitude, Part 2), I realized that the problem runs much deeper than I had originally thought, and much of our thinking problem has to do with internet and technology usage. Our brains are literally changing, and there's no easy way to reverse what's happening. Carr writes: "Experiments show that just as the brain can build new or stronger circuits through physical or mental practice, those circuits can weaken or dissolve with neglect.... The mental skills we sacrifice may be as valuable, or even more valuable, than the ones we gain. When it comes to the quality of our thought, our neurons and synapses are entirely indifferent. The possibility of intellectual decay is inherent in the malleability of our brains... [T]he farther we proceed down [the paths of least resistance], the more difficult it becomes to turn back" (p. 35).
Scary.
Terrifying, actually.
The more time and energy that we spend on the internet or using our i-gadgets--checking email, Facebook, Twitter, and/or texting, etc., the less time we spend in a quiet space reading (or writing) for an extended amount of time. According to Carr, in the "undistracted reading of a book, people made their own associations, drew their own inferences and analogies, fostered their own ideas. They thought deeply as they read deeply" (p. 65). Now, even when we do read deeply, "we do so in the busy shadow of the Internet." Already in 1997, literary critic George Steiner noted that "the silences, the arts of concentration and memorization, the luxuries of time on which 'high reading' depended are largely disposed" (pp. 110-111). Carr states that, while it's possible to think critically while reading on the Internet, it's "not the type of thinking the technology encourages and rewards" (p. 116).
Carr further cites how reading and writing skills are declining. Between 1992 and 2005, literary reading aptitude dropped twelve percent (p. 146). And, as our reading and writing skills decline, so do our critical thinking skills.
And, then, as our critical thinking skills decline, we become more and more a society of robots...or cookie-cutter cookies, whichever metaphor you prefer. I would argue that self-actualized people know how to think deeply, but when I see so many young people (it's not just young people, but they are the most susceptible) wearing the same clothes, sporting the same hair-styles, talking in the same manner, listening to the same music, etc., I question how self-actualized they really are. It is difficult for one to have a healthy and successful relationship or marriage without truly knowing and loving oneself first. I would even argue that these lack of critical thinking skills are partly responsible for the high divorce rate in this country.
Ever since our reading, writing, and thinking skills have waned--most notably, since the mid-'90s--I've also been aware of a decline in "feminist" (I use the term loosely) thought. I'm not talking about a "men are scum" mindset; I'm talking about women and equality. I'm talking about women feeling good about being women and about women being independent people (not dependent on men). I'm talking about making sexist remarks and stereotypes of women disappear.
If any of you are familiar with author Peggy Orenstein/her blog, PBG, or Hardy Girls Healthy Women, you are familiar with what we--meaning: the above people/groups and any other woman who thinks deeply about the images and issues surrounding her--thinking women are up against. People and organizations such as those three, which try to combat the disgraceful commercial images that stereotype and/or degrade women, are few and far between.
Encourage the females (I'm focusing on females, but, actually, this applies to males as well) you know to think critically and deeply, to read deeply and often, to learn about themselves and the world, to be unique and independent individuals. I see so many young (let's say under 25, give or take a few years) women who "relationship-hop," thinking they always need to have a boyfriend. But one cannot easily learn about herself when she's always connected to another person. People change. I know with certainty that I am not the same person I was when I was 25. I thought I knew what I wanted back then, and, yes, some of my goals have remained the same. But many are different. And, in many cases, the reasons and the processes have changed. I've matured; I've grown. I've read and thought and learned.
And, because of all this deep reading and thinking, I know who I am.
Showing posts with label technology. Show all posts
Showing posts with label technology. Show all posts
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Monday, May 30, 2011
Think About Solitude, Part 2
(If you haven't read my original post, Think About Solitude, I encourage you to do so--but you do not need to have read it to make sense of Part 2.)
I recently read The Shallows: What the Internet Is Doing to Our Brains by Nicholas Carr (which I mentioned briefly in Think About Books, Part 2). It was a fascinating book and I will probably refer to it in several upcoming posts. It's one of those books that I keep pondering, even though I finished it two days ago. That seems an appropriate reaction, too, since thinking deeply (or, critically) is one of the main ideas that Carr discusses in the book.
As Carr demonstrates, the internet is changing our brains in such a way that one might say it's creating, generally speaking, a society with technology-induced ADD (Attention Deficit Disorder). The internet limits one's ability to really contemplate and understand the information one reads and how it might apply to his or her life. Carr writes that "[t]he development of a well-rounded mind requires both [my emphasis] an ability to find and quickly parse a wide range of information and [my emphasis] a capacity for open-ended reflection.... We need to work in Google's 'world of numbers,' but we also need to be able to retreat to Sleepy Hollow. The problem today is that we're losing our ability to strike a balance between those two very different states of mind" (p. 168).
Carr later quotes novelist David Foster Wallace: "Learning how to think really means learning how to exercise some control over how and what you think. It means being conscious and aware enough to choose what you pay attention to and to choose how you construct meaning from experience" (pp. 194-5).
In other words, we need to "unplug" every so often. We need solitude, nature, and some form of silence. We need time and space to think.
This evening I rollerbladed a little over 11 miles. A lot of people like to listen to music when they exercise; but, when I exercise, I like to just think about things--in the way that constantly "connected" people might not be able to.
Me, unplugged.
While I rollerbladed I thought about Carr's book, and that is when the idea for this blog post came to me. I also pondered my career/job options. I wrote poetry in my head while I rolled along. I thought about my friends and family. I listened to my wheels against the pavement and enjoyed the sound they made. I delighted in the little noises of nature and watched bunnies hop through the reeds along the path. I thought about how, at 90+ degrees (even in the evening), there was no way I could do the full 15.8 miles I've done the last few times I've been out.
And every thought took me back to Carr's book and our society's reliance on technology and the distractedness it creates. I am certainly not immune to this technology-induced ADD; and, as I thought about Carr's book, I realized that I don't want to lose my capacity to read deeply and think critically. Therefore, I think that in order to hold on to this ability, I need to make time to read, write, or do any other activity uninterrupted--time when I'm not texting or checking email, Facebook, or Twitter.
Solitude.
I recently read The Shallows: What the Internet Is Doing to Our Brains by Nicholas Carr (which I mentioned briefly in Think About Books, Part 2). It was a fascinating book and I will probably refer to it in several upcoming posts. It's one of those books that I keep pondering, even though I finished it two days ago. That seems an appropriate reaction, too, since thinking deeply (or, critically) is one of the main ideas that Carr discusses in the book.
As Carr demonstrates, the internet is changing our brains in such a way that one might say it's creating, generally speaking, a society with technology-induced ADD (Attention Deficit Disorder). The internet limits one's ability to really contemplate and understand the information one reads and how it might apply to his or her life. Carr writes that "[t]he development of a well-rounded mind requires both [my emphasis] an ability to find and quickly parse a wide range of information and [my emphasis] a capacity for open-ended reflection.... We need to work in Google's 'world of numbers,' but we also need to be able to retreat to Sleepy Hollow. The problem today is that we're losing our ability to strike a balance between those two very different states of mind" (p. 168).
Carr later quotes novelist David Foster Wallace: "Learning how to think really means learning how to exercise some control over how and what you think. It means being conscious and aware enough to choose what you pay attention to and to choose how you construct meaning from experience" (pp. 194-5).
In other words, we need to "unplug" every so often. We need solitude, nature, and some form of silence. We need time and space to think.
This evening I rollerbladed a little over 11 miles. A lot of people like to listen to music when they exercise; but, when I exercise, I like to just think about things--in the way that constantly "connected" people might not be able to.
Me, unplugged.
While I rollerbladed I thought about Carr's book, and that is when the idea for this blog post came to me. I also pondered my career/job options. I wrote poetry in my head while I rolled along. I thought about my friends and family. I listened to my wheels against the pavement and enjoyed the sound they made. I delighted in the little noises of nature and watched bunnies hop through the reeds along the path. I thought about how, at 90+ degrees (even in the evening), there was no way I could do the full 15.8 miles I've done the last few times I've been out.
And every thought took me back to Carr's book and our society's reliance on technology and the distractedness it creates. I am certainly not immune to this technology-induced ADD; and, as I thought about Carr's book, I realized that I don't want to lose my capacity to read deeply and think critically. Therefore, I think that in order to hold on to this ability, I need to make time to read, write, or do any other activity uninterrupted--time when I'm not texting or checking email, Facebook, or Twitter.
Solitude.
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Think About Books, Part 2
Back in October, I posted "Think About Books." After reading an article in the April 11th Publishers Weekly just now, I felt compelled to write on this subject again.
The article is "Books Without Batteries: the negative impacts of technology," written by Bill Henderson. (I read it in the print version, by the way.) Henderson's thoughts echo many of my own, although he has different reasons for them. He refers to the book The Shallows: What the Internet Is Doing to Our Brains by Nicholas Carr, a book I was not familiar with (but have just requested from the library). Henderson states that Carr's premise is that people cannot read in depth anymore, that people can't think anymore, in general. "They are becoming 'chronic scatterbrains...even a blog post of more than three or four paragraphs is too much to absorb.'"
I have to agree that many people can't (or, at least, don't) think anymore. Working in retail, I witness this scatterbrain-ness on a regular basis, though I think "scatterbrain" may be too nice of a term. I am not sure if it's due to technology, as Henderson and Carr state, but it's definitely out there. I tend to think that it stems from our superficial materialistic society, in general, and our public education system. But, whatever is causing the problem, it has created a society of people who read poorly, write poorly, and, as a result, think poorly. They just don't take the time to do those things anymore. I regularly see Facebook posts where people use your instead of you're (and vice versa). (It's just Facebook, I know...not a big deal. But it works toward my point anyway. See my post "Think About Professional Communication.")
I'm sure there are many reasons that people love their e-readers, and I have no issue with that. Some people like gadgets, and that's fine. Some adamant proponents of e-readers, though, think that they're good for the environment. Of all the things Americans are wasteful with, print books and the paper they use are probably the least of the problem. One does not usually read a book and trash it. Library books can be re-read for decades. A person who buys a book often loans it to other people or, at the very least, ends up selling it at a garage sale or donating it to Goodwill. In any case, most books get read more than once, usually multiple times, by different people. Even textbooks that go into new editions every couple of years (which is a problem in itself, one that I won't address here) get used more than a couple of times.
E-readers, on the other hand, are like any other gadget in that they become outmoded, sometimes within a few months. Not only does that feed American society's heavy consumerism (which is problematic in itself), but it isn't as "green" of an option as those who rationalize it that way might think. According to Henderson: "To make one e-reader requires 33 pounds of minerals, plus 79 gallons of water to refine the minerals and produce the battery and printed writing. 'The adverse health impacts...from making one e-reader are estimated to be 70 times greater than those for making a single book,' says [a recent New York Times article]. Then you figure that the 100 million e-readers will be outmoded in short order, to be replaced by 100 million new and improved devices..., and you realize an environmental disaster is at hand."
Henderson goes on to say: "Here's what it takes to make a book, which...will be shared by many readers and preserved and appreciated in personal, public, and university libraries that survive the gigantic digital book burning: recycled paper, a dash of minerals, and two gallons of water. Batteries not necessary. If trees are harvested, they can be replanted."
As both an avid reader and avid writer, I can't help but love books. As though they are my own kin, I want to protect them. And, if anyone chooses to read on an e-reader, that is his or her choice, which I respect. But, please, PLEASE, please, don't drag the printed book and all that it encompasses down with you. According to Henderson, "Books are our history and our future. If they survive, we will, too."
So, if you made it through this blog entry and understood what you read: Congratulations, your brain has not yet been stunted by digital society! The world needs more like you! And, if you really understood what you just read, you'll pass this link on to others to read because knowledge is power, and knowledge comes from words. And maybe, just maybe, knowledge can start to displace the ignorance and apathy which are all too prevalent in American society.
(And, trust me, the irony of my platform here--the internet--is not lost on me. However, if someone offered me a book deal right now, I'd willingly put my blog on hold to write for the printed page.)
The article is "Books Without Batteries: the negative impacts of technology," written by Bill Henderson. (I read it in the print version, by the way.) Henderson's thoughts echo many of my own, although he has different reasons for them. He refers to the book The Shallows: What the Internet Is Doing to Our Brains by Nicholas Carr, a book I was not familiar with (but have just requested from the library). Henderson states that Carr's premise is that people cannot read in depth anymore, that people can't think anymore, in general. "They are becoming 'chronic scatterbrains...even a blog post of more than three or four paragraphs is too much to absorb.'"
I have to agree that many people can't (or, at least, don't) think anymore. Working in retail, I witness this scatterbrain-ness on a regular basis, though I think "scatterbrain" may be too nice of a term. I am not sure if it's due to technology, as Henderson and Carr state, but it's definitely out there. I tend to think that it stems from our superficial materialistic society, in general, and our public education system. But, whatever is causing the problem, it has created a society of people who read poorly, write poorly, and, as a result, think poorly. They just don't take the time to do those things anymore. I regularly see Facebook posts where people use your instead of you're (and vice versa). (It's just Facebook, I know...not a big deal. But it works toward my point anyway. See my post "Think About Professional Communication.")
I'm sure there are many reasons that people love their e-readers, and I have no issue with that. Some people like gadgets, and that's fine. Some adamant proponents of e-readers, though, think that they're good for the environment. Of all the things Americans are wasteful with, print books and the paper they use are probably the least of the problem. One does not usually read a book and trash it. Library books can be re-read for decades. A person who buys a book often loans it to other people or, at the very least, ends up selling it at a garage sale or donating it to Goodwill. In any case, most books get read more than once, usually multiple times, by different people. Even textbooks that go into new editions every couple of years (which is a problem in itself, one that I won't address here) get used more than a couple of times.
E-readers, on the other hand, are like any other gadget in that they become outmoded, sometimes within a few months. Not only does that feed American society's heavy consumerism (which is problematic in itself), but it isn't as "green" of an option as those who rationalize it that way might think. According to Henderson: "To make one e-reader requires 33 pounds of minerals, plus 79 gallons of water to refine the minerals and produce the battery and printed writing. 'The adverse health impacts...from making one e-reader are estimated to be 70 times greater than those for making a single book,' says [a recent New York Times article]. Then you figure that the 100 million e-readers will be outmoded in short order, to be replaced by 100 million new and improved devices..., and you realize an environmental disaster is at hand."
Henderson goes on to say: "Here's what it takes to make a book, which...will be shared by many readers and preserved and appreciated in personal, public, and university libraries that survive the gigantic digital book burning: recycled paper, a dash of minerals, and two gallons of water. Batteries not necessary. If trees are harvested, they can be replanted."
As both an avid reader and avid writer, I can't help but love books. As though they are my own kin, I want to protect them. And, if anyone chooses to read on an e-reader, that is his or her choice, which I respect. But, please, PLEASE, please, don't drag the printed book and all that it encompasses down with you. According to Henderson, "Books are our history and our future. If they survive, we will, too."
So, if you made it through this blog entry and understood what you read: Congratulations, your brain has not yet been stunted by digital society! The world needs more like you! And, if you really understood what you just read, you'll pass this link on to others to read because knowledge is power, and knowledge comes from words. And maybe, just maybe, knowledge can start to displace the ignorance and apathy which are all too prevalent in American society.
(And, trust me, the irony of my platform here--the internet--is not lost on me. However, if someone offered me a book deal right now, I'd willingly put my blog on hold to write for the printed page.)
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Think About Books
I love books. I love the feel of one in my hands. I love to touch and smell each page as I read. I fold over the corners of the pages when there's something I want to come back to. I often make notes in the margins and underline important or interesting points. Inevitably, I also correct typos or grammatical errors that I find.
Digital society, though, is trying to make the book as I know and love it disappear. Kindle, the Nook, CafeScribe, and other digital platforms threaten independent bookstores. But, I'm not interested in talking about the business aspect of this subject. Instead, I wish to wax nostalgic about the way a book's pages yellow and crinkle with time; about how I can fall asleep reading and wake up on top of the book, its cover bent or torn; about how I can spill a few drops of my soy pumpkin spice latte on a page and know that the stain will be there for the life of the book; and about how I can look at a unique price ticket on a book and remember where I was when I bought it and, maybe, even why.
A book can create stories and moments other than the one its words tell.
I once knew of a person who started to read the book Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance by Robert Pirsig. When he realized that the book wasn't actually about motorcycle maintenance, he threw it across the room. How many people will do that with their digital books?
Think about it.
Digital society, though, is trying to make the book as I know and love it disappear. Kindle, the Nook, CafeScribe, and other digital platforms threaten independent bookstores. But, I'm not interested in talking about the business aspect of this subject. Instead, I wish to wax nostalgic about the way a book's pages yellow and crinkle with time; about how I can fall asleep reading and wake up on top of the book, its cover bent or torn; about how I can spill a few drops of my soy pumpkin spice latte on a page and know that the stain will be there for the life of the book; and about how I can look at a unique price ticket on a book and remember where I was when I bought it and, maybe, even why.
A book can create stories and moments other than the one its words tell.
I once knew of a person who started to read the book Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance by Robert Pirsig. When he realized that the book wasn't actually about motorcycle maintenance, he threw it across the room. How many people will do that with their digital books?
Think about it.
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