Internet Brain

Right there in the middle of the coffee shop, my mouth actually fell open.

It took a second for me to notice.

I quickly glanced around in a way that I hoped  was somewhat casual. The place was full, but it didn't feel crowded. Like, every table was occupied but chatter was low and people weren't overflowing past the counter while waiting for their drinks.

Isobel and I lucked out. We'd managed to grab a spot by the window in the corner, but only because we accidentally saw the prior occupants getting up to leave.

With the sun draping across the wooden table top, I had my laptop open in front of me and was reading a new post from Brad Stulberg. I've been following his work for years and I really like how he thinks. He has sort of an unconventional approach to productivity that isn't afraid to call out the unrealistic standards pedaled by mainstream media.

Sometimes his work is rigidly straightforward. Lists, frameworks, resources—while I'm sure that's helpful to many, it's not really my jam anymore (though, it was once). So I was surprised by the personal-reflection style and raw honesty of his post.

Brad's been promoting his new book and found that doing so was costing him enough that he bailed; sort of. He described it by saying "All I know is that I was becoming stupider. I knew my commitment to marketing the book carried an occupational hazard of internet brain. I didn’t realize how fast it would happen."

Oh, damn.

I thought back—I guess I'd been watching in real-time. I get his newsletter, I've seen his Notes in my Substack feed, I've even listened to his most recent appearance on a podcast I like (and scrolled past plenty more that he's been on). This guy's been busy. When I started reading this latest post, it didn't take long before I found myself nodding along to phrases like this one:

“We are becoming addicted to the frenetic pace of the internet, to the scroll and swipe, like lab rats pushing a cocaine lever until they exhaust themselves and die.”

I even looked across the top of my screen, ready to tell Isobel she had to see this. Instead, I caught myself and smiled. She was clearly deep in focus-mode... I'd tell her later. Turning back to the article, I took a sip of my coffee and re-read what had caused my jaw to slacken before.

"...studies show that 54% of adults now have literacy levels below those of a sixth grader... reading for pleasure dropped by more than 40 percent over the last 20 years."

Still holding my mug, I took another sip and just... paused. Though I was looking toward the screen, I found myself staring at nothing in particular, eyes wide. Try as I might, I just could not make sense of that.

woooof.

we fucked up real big...

I looked around in disbelief. There used to be a show called Are You Smarter Than A Fifth Grader, and statistically speaking, half of this room was not.

If adult literacy keeps plummeting like this, I have to believe it's because we've forged a society that doesn't value it... like, at all. Setting down my coffee mug, I felt my face drop as I let out a long exhale. Not valuing literacy at a scale this large seems like a huge problem, because literacy is the bedrock of functioning civilized society.

Which makes all of this just feel so broken.

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Our Daily MAP Year Prompt
200/365

Do those stats surprise you? Why?

onward.

For more on this daily column and The MAP Year Project, read the backstory here. And if you know someone who'd appreciate this, pass it along.