Abbreviating Ourselves to Death

I remember my first graduate course. Specifically, I remember looking though the pages and pages of the syllabus until I reached the term paper assignment. I think most former grad students remember that moment. It’s traumatic, after all. My eyes grew wide and my complexion grew pale as I familiarized myself with the requirements of that one assignment, one of many. I remember well the sentence on the syllabus that said  “…qualities valued will include brevity…” How exactly does one achieve brevity in a paper that size? The point was that the professor wouldn’t tolerate any padding or fluff. Every idea and point of that paper had to stand on its own, and there had to be enough of them to make the work cohesive.

Well, I passed. Ever since, though, the word “brevity” has been etched into my brain. It sprang to mind again when I read this op-ed piece over the weekend, in which the writer argues for using shorter (much shorter) writing assignments for his undergraduate English students. He uses the word “concise” instead of “brevity,” but he’s arguing for something similar to my first semester grad school professor. Cut the cliche, cut the filler, and give the facts. Only important material should be in the paper. After all, the writer argues, we live in a culture that values the ability to succinctly communicate your thoughts in a few words. We don’t have time for essays in our day to day lives.

My fellow blogger Jan over at The View From Her asked this week if anyone else was growing “bored with the whole blog thing,” pondering if ideas weren’t communicated that way any more, or at least that most of us didn’t have the energy to say them in that format. This isn’t the first time I’ve heard the question asked. Is blogging dying? Certainly the blogosphere looks different, and is arguably less active, in our current culture of frequent status updates and 140-character sound bytes. Remember when Facebook wasn’t a real-time stream, but a place to communicate with your friends (before it attempted to copy Twitter)? Many have left blogging behind, preferring the quicker stream-of-consciousness that is the status update world. Quick and concise thoughts, without the elaboration.

I’m concerned by this. My initial reaction is that blogging is too valuable a medium to let die, both as a snapshot of the thoughts of the masses and as a game-changer for journalism. Sure, there are bloggers who just write about what they did that day and ate for dinner, the same as there are vloggers that waste YouTube’s bandwidth talking about their haircut. Those, I think, have gravitated much more easily to shorter mediums. There are many, though, who have something to say, something that requires more words to effectively communicate their thoughts.

We’ve all read books and reached the last page groaning about the verbose writing of the author…you know, the writers who take pages of non-fiction space to say what we could have said completely in three paragraphs? That’s one thing. And as much as I love the idea of every thought standing on its own merit, there has to be room for the complete thoughts, as well. I’ve heard it said that, in prose writing, every thought must stand on its own, while in poetry, every word must stand on its own.

Perhaps, if we were moving more toward the poetry, I could more easily accept the idea. Even if we were, though, embracing poetry doesn’t eliminate the need for prose. And, at the end of the day, we’re not embracing any sort of increasing literacy…a fact that is glaring us in the face every time someone uses “2” instead of “to” or “lol” in a tweet (those abbreviations barely even have a place in text messages in an age when many phones have full keyboards).  Not everything can be abbreviated effectively, and doing so not only robs the idea of some of its coherence, but works toward the degradation of the language in which the thought is being expressed.

I think of my professional life as an example. I don’t look good on paper, at least not when I’m reduced to a few succinct sentences. Given a seven page CV, I shine, but on a one page resume, not as much. There’s more nuance, more complexity, to anyone’s life than that. Should I find myself applying for a specific position that requires a specific skill set, then that can certainly be achieved in one page. There is much, though, that must be left out, and those things that are left out are important.

Perhaps the issue is that we’re too rushed and impatient to read the depth of anyone’s thoughts. Perhaps the issue is that we’ve forsaken depth in favor of fast-moving trends. Perhaps the issue is that we’re permanently re-wired. Certainly, all of those things are true. Whatever the case, I see the larger issue being the impatience and unwillingness, leading not only to a failure to express our thoughts at length, but also to a failure to entertain others’ thoughts at length. There’s probably something to be said for the narcissism of always wanting to be heard, as well.

Expressing something in its entirety does not mean expressing it verbosely.

Expressing something while valuing brevity does not mean reducing it to a rapid-fire tweets, either.

Should blogging actually be dying, then I think its death is a statement that we aren’t wise enough to recognize the difference.

Photo Attribution: ilovebutter 

Practically Productive

I read a blog post once…I can’t remember where…about a person who had, for some time, avoided getting an iPhone for spiritual reasons. I completely respect that, as it was far deeper than my own reason for not purchasing one: AT&T. Before I digress, however, I remember the blogger joking that he had discovered that he could now watch Dog the Bounty Hunter in the bathroom.

…let’s give that a moment…

I was talking with a co-worker this week about wi-fi enabled flights…you know, some airlines are offering wi-fi aboard certain flights. The last time I traveled  by air was over the Christmas holiday. I remember that it was sort of nice to turn devices off or into “airplane mode,” and be away from incoming communication for a couple of hours. This summer, I “unplugged” for our vacation…no phones, no emails, no social networks. I checked the Internet once, and that was to see if it was going to rain before we hit the beach that evening. As wired a lifestyle as I live, it was blissful to be intentionally out of touch for a while.

I was having coffee with a friend tonight, and we talked about moments in life that we take for granted, or even that we resent at the time, but that become something precious in retrospect. I’ve become more and more aware of these lately, especially where my family is concerned. Should we ever manage to cultivate the discipline and skill to recognize these special moments as they’re occurring…a special time with your spouse, holding your child, talking to a parent…then I think we’ve achieved something outstanding. I don’t think that’s enough, though. I think we need to be fully present in that moment…to be fully engaged.

Being fully engaged in a culture that prizes multitasking is difficult. It’s difficult because we expect our brains to operate as computers, as the term implies. Thus, we’re constantly interrupted in whatever we’re doing…or, worse, with whomever we’re with…because something else demands our attention.

I’ve talked about this before, here, and I don’t want to drag it up again in a way that is only complaining. I think, though, that the people in our lives are important enough to deserve our full attention. I’m as guilty as anyone…I was reading the news today while talking to a co-worker, I tend to check Twitter while watching a movie at home with my wife. I’m learning, though, some practical methods of making certain that my attention is focused in very important moments. Here are some things I’ve discovered:

1. If my wife or a guest is talking to me at home, I walk away from the computer, put down the book or the iPad, and make eye contact. In communications theory, that’s called active listening. Leaning toward the person speaking helps, as well. It’s more difficult in a public place, but possible, I promise.

2. I turn off push notifications. I want to keep up with my emails and social networks, but I want to see that information when I want to see it. If I need to check it often, I do. If I don’t, I leave it alone. Either way, I’m not interrupted by that data. I’m only seeing it when I want to see it.

3. Phones have silent modes for a reason. If I’m with someone at work, I don’t even take a phone into the room. If I’m in a conversation in a coffee shop, I send it to voicemail. A ring doesn’t necessitate an answer, at least not immediately.

4. When I’m writing, I use a word processing application that has a full screen mode. That keeps me from being distracted by other things, like calendars or to-do lists, by pushing everything else to the background and out of view.

5. Take a break. I certainly recommend unplugging a couple of times a year, if not more. Vacations are great for that. In addition, I take some time each weekend, and intentionally don’t check information that I would routinely check (like news headlines). I go away from the computer. I read a book (that’s enough of a lost past time in America), take a walk in nice weather. I go to a coffee shop and people watch (great inspiration for actors and writers).

6. I only take on what I can do well, be it projects or hobbies or commitments with friends. Saying “no” is healthy.

7. Don’t feel like you have to read every interesting article or post or book that is recommended to you. I use Instapaper for things I want to read later, and go back to it when I can give it my full attention. However, if I don’t get to something, life will go on. Really. It will.

All of these types of strategies, incidentally, help you do what you’re doing better.  Being quiet and not having something “coming in” to read or watch or comprehend constantly helps us focus, as has been widely discussed lately.

An unusually practical post for me (perhaps I should do this more often?). I’m curious about you: what techniques do you use to prevent your attention span from becoming scrambled? Or is it too late? Let me know what you think. Just don’t tell me if you watch Dog the Bounty Hunter in the bathroom.

Photo Attribution: Ed Yourdon

Out With The Old…Sometimes…

I like toys.

I know, I know, that’s not really a huge surprise. I’m an early adopter of new technologies (sometimes to my chagrin), and I am in a perpetual difference of opinion with my wife over the most effective tools with which to make life more productive and fun. These differences of opinion happen when I recommend the latest app or device that I’ve found, or occasionally set her up with a free account for a great new service, only to discover that she still uses a paper-and-pen planner to schedule her week and to make her to-do lists. She integrates them into iCal as an afterthought, and essentially only so that I will have a copy of her schedule in electronic form.

Both she and my friend and fellow-blogger, Katherine, scoffed and shook their heads disdainfully at me over dinner one night when discussing my preference for ebooks to paperbacks. Yet, my wife still bought an e-reader for me for last year’s birthday.

As high-tech as I am, however, I discover myself preferring amazingly low-tech methods in certain aspects of life. Years ago, I eschewed electric razors in favor of a Gillette Mach 3 that I received as a Christmas gift. The reason for the choice was simple: I get a better shave with the latter. I still use the same razor that I received years ago, in fact. It’s become sort of sentimental.

More recently, I let go of the programmable coffee pot that had coffee hot and waiting for me each morning in favor of a French press. The reason was because I’m a complete snob about having perfect coffee, and this is the best taste I’ve been able to achieve. The choice required an alteration to my lifestyle: I have less time in the morning because I boil the water and grind the coffee fresh as soon as I wake up. It’s a low-tech sacrifice with great results.

Of course, the waking up occurs after the alert from an alarm clock that sets itself and remembers that the times I wake on weekends are different than weekdays, as well as understanding Daylight Savings Time changes. High-tech to low-tech.

Some family members prefer tea to coffee when they wake up. They have a nifty little device that boils the water for them in the mornings. I boil mine in a tea pot. I’m not sure why. Something about it just feels right. Yet, as right as it feels to work on something around the house with a traditional screwdriver, I’ll break out the battery-powered screw gun to sink a screw whenever and wherever I have the option. Working smarter, not harder, and all that. My wrist thanks me.

We have various high-tech appliances in the kitchen to assist in Karen’s creations of culinary masterpieces, as well as my fumbling through basic assemblies of meals when it’s my turn to cook. Yet we favor the low-tech in surprising ways (cast iron skillets flavor your breakfast sausage so much better that something with a non-stick coating!).

I even lament the decline of physical books on my shelves occasionally.

As much as I like my toys, there are times when the latest advancements in technology, while making life easier and more convenient for scheduling purposes, simply do not achieve the same level of quality as the low-tech, dare I say traditional, tools. I think that the thing to look for is functionality, not trends.  And, I think, the thresh-hold of what we’re willing to experiment with is different for each of us in different circumstances. Even beyond that, sometimes the low-tech options have more character.  Having choices is great…except when it’s not.

But I’ll take the battery-powered screw gun to a traditional screwdriver any day. Insert Tim Allen noise here.

Photo Attribution: Living in Monrovia

Complications

Monday night brought excitement as I received news about the new (and much anticipated) software update for Barnes & Noble’s NOOK, my e-reader of choice. Coming at the end of an otherwise complicated and hectic beginning of my week, this was a bright spot in my day.

Although, truth be told, I’ve been having some problems in the ebook world lately.

I say that not as a writer, but as a reader. I can’t wait to self-publish my manuscript in ebook format (assuming said manuscript ever reaches completion…and, believe me, that’s a long way in the future yet), and I’m heavily attracted to the advantages that ebooks offer. I enjoy being able to download a book instantly and begin reading it, and carrying all of my current books with me. What I’ve found myself missing over the last few months, however, is seeing the cover art of the book in my hands. I didn’t think that this would be a big deal, but it sort of is. I’ve found myself missing the act of shelving the book when I’m finished reading it. What’s odd is that I didn’t anticipate missing any of these things at all.

As ebook selection isn’t nearly what it should be as of yet, I’m currently existing in both worlds, finding only about 40-50% of the books I want to read available as ebooks from any seller. So, I’ve had a chance to remember what I’ve been missing. This week, Karen ordered several books from Amazon. I’ve found myself looking forward to their arrival, to finding them at the door, to unboxing them. There’s something about the waiting that’s superior to instant gratification. There’s something about the anticipation.

I listened to a discussion recently about how the act of purchasing music has changed in the era of iTunes and digital downloads. I’ve mentioned here before that I made the transition from CD’s to iPod very easily. I haven’t missed purchasing physical CD’s. I don’t miss holding the album art, because it appears beautifully on my iPod’s screen. I love having my entire music collection with me everywhere. Music holds just as dear a place in my life as books do, but I don’t miss holding CD’s at all. So why do I miss holding books? After all, I’m still reading the book. I listen to audiobooks without missing the physical book itself. What’s different here?

The discussion I listened to this week hinted at a cheapening of the music buying process…a lack of discussion with people who are as passionate about it as you are. The panelist discussed the loss of connection with other music lovers that occurred when we had to drive to an indie record store to purchase music. Now, when we click and download, there’s consumerism without connection. The panelist likened it to pornography.

What’s interesting to me is that this parallels some recent thoughts I’ve had about another long-time love: comic books. Digital comics are just beginning to come into their own on tablet devices. They look gorgeous on my iPad. Yet, almost 100% of the titles I collect are unavailable in that format. So, two or three times a month, I stop by my local comic book shop. During my last visit, I became involved in a conversation with the guy behind the counter about some mutual favorite titles, and he recommended the new Black Widow to me. I didn’t even know they had re-vamped the Black Widow! He gained a sale, and I gained a new title to collect. That’s the sort of interaction…the recommendation of friends…that connect us with new music and new books that are the most important. No algorithm generating a “you may also like” selection after your purchase on a website can duplicate that.

Perhaps this is yet another case of technology being permitted to rise above the status of the tool it is meant to be, beginning to manipulate us into serving it instead of it serving us. Perhaps this is one step further toward what science fiction authors have warned us about for some time.

And, if so, how ironic that I read so much science fiction in electronic format?

Eventually, I’ll reconcile this dilemma that I can’t explain, and decide one way or another how I want to read. I’ll either cultivate a sense of waiting, or succumb to more instant gratification. Or, perhaps I’ll recognize that there’s one area of my life in which I struggle to release “the way things used to be,” after all. Until then, I’ll keep dividing my reading time between my NOOK and physical books.

Honestly, though, I wonder how long that will last.

Photo Attribution: bfhoyt 

Cruise Control on Warp Factor 9

Something that’s fascinated me a lot in my explorations lately is the idea of a theology of technology. There’s been great stuff written about this subject… sort of Lewis‘ idea that we shouldn’t necessarily do something just because we can do it. As I’ve mentioned here before, I’m far too much of a gadget lover to have an easy time with the idea of giving up my toys. With those toys, however, I think comes a certain illusion…a mistaken perception of how the world beyond our living room walls actually functions…if we use the web that our toys access as primary social contact instead of a tool to augment real social contact.

I listened to a discussion last week about another interesting topic: a theology of food. The panel discussed how America, unlike most other cultures around our world, has little to no connection to its food source. Food thus becomes utilitarian for us, one more thing that we consume with no respect. Similar to the way we consume art as mere entertainment instead of engaging with a medium, we eat because we’re hungry, with no appreciation for quality or new ideas, consuming processed garbage and forgetting what a carefully prepared meal tastes like.

It occurs to me that the two actually go together. One of the panelists in the discussion on food mentioned that he and his wife have a garden at their home. My family has always raised a portion of their own food, and still do. I’m really the first urban dweller in my family, the first to not do this. Karen and I are very accustomed to being able to run across the street to the grocery store and pick up what we need when we need it. Waiting is a foreign concept. I am friends with a local coffee shop owner who used to custom roast my coffee to order. I had to stop having him do so, and begin buying what he had already roasted and placed on his shelf, because I could not remember to order my coffee two days out. I ran out in the morning, and needed more by that afternoon. I have way too much happening in life to plan my coffee ordering.

The panelist who plants a garden said that doing so is a spiritual experience, because it accustoms you to waiting on something…to not having control over when something you’ve planted is ready to eat, but instead having to wait for it to come into its season of harvest. This creates a greater appreciation for the food once it is ready, leading one to eat and appreciate it instead of consuming it like a tool for life. In short, you respect that for which you’ve had to wait.

I can think of few aspects of my life that technology doesn’t permit me to conquer and to make happen on my schedule. I watch movies and television on my own schedule, not when they air. I will have two packages of books arriving this week that I have ordered online. I am listening to electronica music on my iPod as I type this. I imagine that all of us have flown to a part of the world that might have been completely inaccessible to us a century ago. In almost every area of life, I see this as progress, as our mastery over our environment. Yet, I wonder what we fail to appreciate because we have everything happening at our own schedule? I wonder what we have mastered that perhaps we shouldn’t have? I wonder how our domination of our world is causing that world to be cheapened in our own perspectives?

I’m not an organic person. I’m an urban-dweller who does absolutely everything possible online and am the person to whom most of my friends turn for “tech support.” I don’t like hiking, and I’m allergic to grass.  I don’t advocate purging ourselves of our technological advances.

I just sometimes wish we could balance our advances with a bit more efficacy to the rest of life.

Photo Attribution: http://www.flickr.com/photos/andrewchoy/