Finding Focus in a Flood of Content

When I started blogging again, I was worried that I wouldn't have enough ideas. That was a false fear; I had three vying for my attention when I sat down to write. It's exciting. I'm glad to know that my problem isn't inspiration. Interesting ideas are everywhere.

YouTube is the primary way I consume digital content. There's really no contest, and the algorithm does well at predicting what I will like. Occasionally, a video from a new (to me) creator will linger in my "recommended" feed for a week or two, despite me skipping past it multiple times. Sometimes I'll give in and watch it. And, usually, the algorithm is right. I like it.

Case in point, the video that inspired this week's post: Why everyone stopped reading. by Jared Henderson.

The title piqued my interest for two reasons. First, because I'm writing on a novel and I want people to read it. And second, because I was one of those people. I stopped reading after college. 

In it the video, Jared highlights several things that might contribute to a new reader's failure to thrive: whole language learning instead of phonics, using selections rather than full texts, and distractions. It's good. Watch it. It's less than 12 minutes long.

I had no trouble learning to read. I read as many books as the library would let me take home. It was the early 90's. Screen time wasn't a problem the way it is now. Reading was my source of adventure.

In college, I was accepted into the undergrad honors program. We studied the classics, one book a week (give or take), exactly as he describes in the video. The learning curve was steep, but I managed. 

We read the literary spine of western civilization, discussed, and wrote papers. I loved it. It wasn't a thorough deep dive; there wasn't time. But I came out of college with a solid foundation and a feeling of confidence that I was well read. I also left with a bad case of burn-out. 

In my entire college career, I only read one book for fun. That's not to imply that I didn't enjoy the books I read. I did. But enjoying an assignment is not the same as reading for leisure. I vividly remember the feelings evoked by a passage in Anna Karenina. Something about the workers bringing in the harvest. This is beautiful, I thought, I wish I had time to enjoy it. 

Theoretically, I would have time after graduation. But that didn't happen. Instead, I stopped reading. I told myself it was a recovery period after the intensity of my academic schedule. But, as the years dragged on, that justification didn't hold.  

I was secretly embarrassed by my abandonment of literature, but too distracted to do anything about it. When I started college, there were no cell phones. There was no YouTube. Facebook was invite-only.

In the years after, new media exploded. I fell in love with podcasts and documentaries. I lost myself in the immersive narratives of games. I was still consuming stories, but I wasn't reading. 

Almost a decade later, I got a job doing basic data entry. I was literally cutting and pasting text from PDFs. It didn't require much use of my intellect, except when I did a final check for accuracy. It was in the mindless times that I rediscovered a love of reading. I found audiobooks.

In another video, Why we can't focus. (also worth 12 minutes), Jared makes the point that books require you to give your attention, while other forms of media take (or steal) it. In light of that, audiobooks feel like cheating. Push play and you're in. 

The very shallow research I did (here and here) indicates that, at least for leisure reading, our brain doesn’t care how we get the story. But for deep analysis, a book in hand is better. Intuitively, that makes sense. Reading aloud with others was the standard for much of history. And, while they might have lacked in ability to underline, I imagine they gained a lot by conversation.  

Jared talks about the importance of following an author to their conclusion. It’s something that doesn’t happen with a summary. A summary can give an answer, but it won’t help you understand the question. When you follow the thought, interact with it, reflect… that’s where it starts to matter.

He also makes the point that an over-availability of content makes it easily disposable. It’s like plastic wrappers or crap from Temu. It’s going to get worse (I’m looking at you, AI). But there is hope in good habits: ditch your phone, consume media that makes you pay attention, and get used to living without digital stimulation. 

This morning, I loaded my dishwasher without listening to any media. My phone sat on the table, screen off. It was comically stressful. But Jared’s call to intentionally and focus is the same reason I’m writing. It’s a personal exercise in slowing down and engaging with ideas.

YouTuber, Lady of the Library, did a video a few days ago suggesting storytelling (well-crafted and intentional) as the anecdote to media overload, brain rot, and despair. Storytelling builds connection and empathy, which is much needed in a time of divisive newsbytes. I largely agree with her. I may come back to her video in another post.

But for those of us who know Jesus, there is more. Philippians chapter 4, Paul's sign-off to the church in Philippi, has two famous verses back-to-back:

Verses 6-7, 

'Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.'

And verse 8,

'Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.'

Slowing down and sustaining thoughts will help with focus. Storytelling will help with connection. But the answer to brain-rot, distraction, and despair is found in prayer and contemplation. It's in time with Jesus, the logos, who has the wildest story of them all.