I’ve had a bit of comeuppance. Or maybe a come-down-ance? Been humbled, anyway.
I’d read that screenwriters are told to repeat the plot of a story at least four times during the course of a movie because viewers no longer have the ability to follow a plot all the way through. Not only are they distracted by their phones, but all that scrolling and seeing small snippets of videos, comments, and headlines has made them unable to focus. That lack of focus is also why few people read books — they can’t comprehend what they are reading, can’t keep the story in their head long enough to make sense of it.
This made me feel proud of myself that even at my age I could focus on a story, often being able to read an entire book at a sitting and keep the whole thing in my head. I’m even getting to the point where I can keep the entire four million words of the Wheel of Time books in my head, which is important because of all the foreshadowing. (You can’t tell when something that was foreshadowed happens if you can’t remember the foreshadowing.)
Anyway, lately I’ve spent a lot of time online, following the Buddhist Monks’ Walk for Peace, listening to black conservative commentators (I was interested in seeing what they thought about being told they were too stupid to figure out how to get an ID), following the backlash of the halftime show and its alternative (what I learned is that if you didn’t like either, you’re probably just plain old), and various other things.
And you know what happened? I can no longer focus on reading. I can’t keep even a chapter in my head, let alone an entire book. Can’t sit still without wanting to go check to see what’s going on elsewhere.
I never planned this experiment, never planned to test the theory that online activities shorten one’s attention span, but I sure got a quick result. Luckily, I figured out what the problem is and know an easy solution — spend less time online. But what about people who have lived their entire life practicing what I did for just a few weeks? Can they ever learn to concentrate? Though I suppose what it comes down to is if they even want to. And I doubt they do.
The world has seldom been a comfortable place for me since I’ve never fit into any socio-cultural setting. We didn’t have a television when I was a kid and we weren’t allowed to listen to popular radio stations — my father wanted us to grow up to be different and, well, he got his wish. Hence, growing up I seldom understood the cultural references of my classmates, and since I don’t have television now, I don’t understand today’s cultural references. My preferred music is silence. My preferred activity is reading books. My preferred companions are those who know how to think. So even though I’ve usually been able to find a niche for myself, I never felt as if the world was mine.
And now I know for a fact that the world isn’t mine. I might still have a decade left or possibly even two, but I’m on my way out. The world belongs to younger people. And in their world, maybe being able to focus or keep stories in their heads isn’t an issue.
As for me, I’ve learned that even a bit of misplaced pride can end up being humbling.
***
Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One.
Bertram's Blog 