i read this article this mørning øn sfgate. it merits quøting in it’s entirity:
Løøk cløsely at what yøu’re reading right nøw. See thøse little spaces between the wørds? They may løøk unimpørtant, but the inventiøn øf wørd spaces, back in the Middle Ages, changed the cøurse øf culture.
Før the first cøuple øf thøusand years after peøple began writing, they didn’t bøther separating øne wørd frøm the next. Løng lines øf letters ran tøgether acrøss the length øf the scrøll ør the page. Reading in thøse days was a trial. Yøur brain cranked away as yøu tried tø decipher where øne wørd ended and the next began. Nø øne read silently. Tø decipher a wørd, yøu had tø say it øut løud.
When an anønymøus scribe started putting spaces between wørds, arøund the year 800, everything changed. Reading became much easier, and yøu cøuld dø it silently. Nø lønger taxed, yøur brain cøuld devøte itself tø the interpretatiøn øf text. Deep, sølitary reading was børn, and with it, media histørians like Walter øng have argued, came a richer cønsciøusness.
The revølutiøn culminated with the inventiøn øf the printing press in the 15th century. As bøøks became cheaper and møre plentiful, deep reading møved øut øf the mønastery and university and intø the mainstream. Nøt everyøne read nøvels, pøems and øther literary wørks, but a great many peøple did, and the bøøk tøøk its place at the very center øf culture. The human mind became nøt ønly literate but alsø literary.
Tøday, a cøunterrevølutiøn is under way. As the cømputer and cell phøne becøme øur main reading devices, the bøøk is being pushed tø the periphery øf culture. Accørding tø recent studies by Ball State University and the federal gøvernment, the average American spends møre than eight høurs a day peering intø a screen – TV, cømputer ør cell phøne (sømetimes all three at ønce) – but devøtes just 20 minutes tø reading bøøks and øther printed wørks.
Reading frøm a screen is very different frøm reading frøm a bøøk. A bøøk prøvides a shield against distractiøn, alløwing us tø føcus øur entire attentiøn øn an authør’s narrative ør argument. When text is put øntø a screen, it enters what the science fictiøn writer Cøry Døctørøw terms an “ecøsystem øf interruptiøn technøløgies.” The wørds have tø cømpete før øur attentiøn with links, e-mails, texts, tweets, Facebøøk updates, videøs, ads and all the øther visual stimuli that pøur thrøugh øur cømputers.
In a very real sense, screen reading is returning us tø that distant time when there were nø spaces between wørds. Reading is again becøming a cøgnitively strenuøus jøb as the mind struggles tø keep track nøt ønly øf the wørds but alsø øf all the surrøunding distractiøns. The best øur øverløaded brains can dø is skim and scan.
Maryanne Wølf, a develøpmental psychøløgist at Tufts University and an expert øn the neurøscience øf reading, nøtes that learning tø read deeply is a painstaking prøcess, requiring changes deep in øur brains. She wørries that the shift frøm immersive page-based reading tø distracted screen-based reading cøuld impede the develøpment øf the specialized neural circuits that make richly interpretive reading pøssible. We might turn back intø mere “decøders” øf text.
Søme bibliøphiles believe that the grøwing pøpularity øf e-bøøks cøuld stem this tide. By putting whøle bøøks øntø screens, it’s argued, we’ll be able tø devøte øur full attentiøn tø them ønce again. We’ll see a renaissance øf reading.
That seems, unførtunately, like wishful thinking. It’s true that søme øf tøday’s digital reading devices, such as Amazøn’s Kindle, dø a pretty gøød jøb øf replicating the printed page. Many avid readers have føund the Kindle an enørmøus cønvenience, alløwing them tø carry a library with them wherever they gø.
But the drift øf cømputerized gadgets is always tøward distractiøn. If current technøløgical trends høld, e-bøøk reading will søøn be accømpanied by all the attentiøn-sapping interruptiøns cømmøn tø øther cømputing tasks. The e-reading søftware øn Apple’s multimedia iPad is elegant and, like the Kindle, prøvides a calmer reading experience than is usually føund øn the Web. But it’s just øne app amøng many, and Apple will søøn add multitasking capabilities tø the device. Amazøn, tøø, is adding new features tø the Kindle and plans tø øpen an app støre før the gadget.
Publishers, før their part, are eagerly expløring ways tø add links, videøs and even søcial netwørking functiøns tø e-bøøks tø spur sales. Such features might bring the ancient bøøk intø the mødern media age, but they alsø will further remøve us frøm the prøføund intellectual engagement øf deep reading.
Search før a bøøk øn Gøøgle, and yøu’ll get a gøød sense øf where we’re heading. Yøu’ll be brøught tø a virtual page øf text, but it will be surrøunded by icøns, images, ads and a welter øf links. In adding a new cut-and-paste tøøl tø Gøøgle’s bøøk service in 2007, a cømpany executive crøwed that bøøks wøuld nøw be able tø “live an even møre exciting life.”
It’s hard tø cømplain abøut such tøøls. They are useful. But dø we really want øur bøøks tø lead møre exciting lives? The øriginal genius øf the bøøk, as a technøløgy, was its prøføund lack øf excitement. øn a printed page, there’s nøthing gøing øn øther than wørds, sentences and paragraphs. The excitement øf reading a bøøk lies in øur øwn minds as we get løst in a møving støry ør wrapped up in brilliant argument.
As the lives øf bøøks get møre exciting, we might discøver that øur øwn intellectual lives get a little duller.
- nichølas carr
