Why read!

Whether it is a department meeting, or a session at an academic conference, there is always something to process, for which I need to be engaged.  For this, I take with me a notebook and a pen.  I occasionally jot things down--not merely those on which I need to follow up on later, but whatever comes across as new to me.  I don't transcribe the proceedings; what I note down are the ones that I want to make sure I commit to my understanding.

Blogging, and serious reading, are along the same lines.  Even if I were not an academic--oh, thank heavens I am one!--I suppose this would have been my MO. 

It was, therefore, exciting that my approach found at least one audience, who commented: "I have decided to read like you - making notes and keeping them for reference in a blog or a Word file - like signposts."  Yes, like signposts.

A few years ago, I blogged about the pleasure of slow reading and thinking, and I had included there this wonderful graphic:

Source

Treat reading like an exercise, even when it is for pleasure.  And, yes, choose a printed book.  A few years ago, my daughter thought she would help me out by gifting me a Kindle.  I gave it a try, but could barely read through even a few pages.  I abandoned it.

That post was six years ago, when distractions were fewer, compared to now.  Since then, I have abandoned Facebook, and made sure to never ever sign up for WhatsApp and all other apps.  Time extends before me, like how it used to in the past.  Reading is wonderfully possible even in this age of constant and annoying distractions, which are also designed to be addictive.

We know perfectly well—we remember, even if dimly, the inward state that satisfies more than our itching, clicking fingers—and we know it isn’t here. Here, on the internet, is a nowhere space, a shallow time. It is a flat and impenetrable surface. But with a book, we dive in; we are sucked in; we are immersed, body and soul.

When you do sit down to read, do not read them all at once.  If you do, then the chances are that you won't remember any damn thing later; all you will have done is kill time! 

When you are with your child, put down your damned phone

The other day, we saw a three-year-old boy running excitedly on the bike path with a huge grin on his face.  His mother--we assume that was the relationship--was a few steps behind.

Nothing unnatural thus far, right?

Except that the mother was texting on her smartphone as she was walking.  And when she was done, she jogged to catch up with the boy.

If such a scene had been a rare occurrence, then I would not be worried.  But, it is not rare.  This has become the new normal, it seems.  Parents talking not to the kids but to somebody else on their smartphones.  Or texting. Or catching up on Facebook.

I suppose such highly distracted parenting will only worsen, which makes me all the more relieved that fertility rates have fallen to historic lows.  I would rather that people did not have children if they are going to be abandoning kids like this.

We have rapidly transitioned into a new world that runs against our own evolutionary mechanisms:

The new parental-interaction style can interrupt an ancient emotional cueing system, whose hallmark is responsive communication, the basis of most human learning. We’re in uncharted territory.

Unchartered, indeed!  There is decreasing levels of back-and-forth between children and adults.  I don't mean parents alone.  When I was growing up, it was not merely parents.  If they were not around, then I--like pretty much all children anywhere on this planet--was engaged in a back-and-forth with other adults or older children.  All these responsive communication helped all of us grow.

A problem therefore arises when the emotionally resonant adult–child cueing system so essential to early learning is interrupted—by a text, for example, or a quick check-in on Instagram. Anyone who’s been mowed down by a smartphone-impaired stroller operator can attest to the ubiquity of the phenomenon. ... “Toddlers cannot learn when we break the flow of conversations by picking up our cellphones or looking at the text that whizzes by our screens,” Hirsh-Pasek said.

It is all getting messed up!

Of course, parenting has always been associated with distractions.  A few days ago, a friend-couple recalled how when they were doing chores at home, their toddler daughter wandered into the yard--the door was accidentally open--and took a few sips of the lighter fluid.  Every parent has at least one awful story to tell.  But, that occasional distraction is different from the smartphone-distracted parenting of today:

A tuned-out parent may be quicker to anger than an engaged one, assuming that a child is trying to be manipulative when, in reality, she just wants attention. Short, deliberate separations can of course be harmless, even healthy, for parent and child alike (especially as children get older and require more independence). But that sort of separation is different from the inattention that occurs when a parent is with a child but communicating through his or her nonengagement that the child is less valuable than an email. A mother telling kids to go out and play, a father saying he needs to concentrate on a chore for the next half hour—these are entirely reasonable responses to the competing demands of adult life. What’s going on today, however, is the rise of unpredictable care, governed by the beeps and enticements of smartphones. We seem to have stumbled into the worst model of parenting imaginable—always present physically, thereby blocking children’s autonomy, yet only fitfully present emotionally.

All these don't add up well.  A brave new world!