Is Google making us stupid? The failure of memory, the starvation of imagination, the ennervation of reason.Well, yes,
according to this Antlantic essay. Disengagement from reading is one example:
I’m not the only one. When I mention my troubles with reading to friends and acquaintances—literary types, most of them—many say they’re having similar experiences. The more they use the Web, the more they have to fight to stay focused on long pieces of writing. Some of the bloggers I follow have also begun mentioning the phenomenon. Scott Karp, who writes a blog about online media, recently confessed that he has stopped reading books altogether. “I was a lit major in college, and used to be [a] voracious book reader,” he wrote. “What happened?” He speculates on the answer: “What if I do all my reading on the web not so much because the way I read has changed, i.e. I’m just seeking convenience, but because the way I THINK has changed?”
Bruce Friedman, who blogs regularly about the use of computers in medicine, also has described how the Internet has altered his mental habits. “I now have almost totally lost the ability to read and absorb a longish article on the web or in print,” he wrote earlier this year. A pathologist who has long been on the faculty of the University of Michigan Medical School, Friedman elaborated on his comment in a telephone conversation with me. His thinking, he said, has taken on a “staccato” quality, reflecting the way he quickly scans short passages of text from many sources online. “I can’t read War and Peace anymore,” he admitted. “I’ve lost the ability to do that. Even a blog post of more than three or four paragraphs is too much to absorb. I skim it.”
As the author Nicholas Carr points out, hyperlinks propel us to new text, and novelty is interesting and keeps the attention, making the process of sticking with the original text harder work.
I read a piece in the Daily Law Journal last week by an instructor in legal writing who says that he is hearing from law firms that the writing ability of new lawyers has declined markedly over the last 7 years. This claim probably ought to be taken with a large grain of salt; I doubt that there has ever been a seven year period when older lawyers haven't
perceived a marked decline in the writing ability of young lawers. Memory is flexible that way; we are always - and always were - better than the "younger generation."
But assuming the truth of the claim, and the fact that law school admission criteria haven't declined and that legal writing is being taught, the answer according to the instructor was the effect of e-mails. Writing is difficult. It requires perseverence and that means that when a tricky bit of thought has to be thought out and put on paper, the person ought to be doing that, rather than looking at e-mails or other attention distractors.
As Carr points out in the Atlantic essay, the internet medium channels the way we think in a direction that is not conducive to the hard work of ordering one's thought. We can skip around capriciously, from thought to thought, and at the end of the day have nothing to show for it.
The exercise of memory is another thing that may be declining. I now expect to know things that I previously would have had to wait until I got to a library. For example, when was the Battle of Lepanto? Did Sigourney Weaver star in "Holes"? When did Tom Seaver pitch for the Mets? These questions once might have vexed and frustrated me, but now I expect the magic of Google to pull them up in seconds.
In studying Aquinas, I have slowly come to marvel at his prodigious memory. St. Thomas quotes everyone - Aristotle, Averroe, Pseudo-Dionysius, Plato, Boethius, Augustine, the Bible, Abelard, etc., etc. He must have been doing it largely from memory inasmuch as texts could not hav been all that available and there was hardly an indexing system worthy of the name. I've recently confirmed my suspicion in
a book that details the memory techniques that Aquinas himself suggested be used. (See S.T. II-II, q. 49, a. 1, ad 2 and
this post. )
Thomas' memory techniques are nothing special; they are the techniquest that you might get at any business seminar on "improving your memory." The point is that these techniques were necessary and were part of the living experience of the educated class of the time, a tradition that took a substantial hit with the introduciton of printing and may whither away almost completely with the hyper-indexing capabilities of Google.
The failure of memory may have some profound unintended consequences.
According to Thomas, as essentially embodied intellectual creatures, we cannot thing without "phantasms", without images. Everything we know comes from our senses. We know things first as the actual individual thing in which a "form", i.e., a concept or an "essence", is embodied.
Hence, if someone mentions "triangle", some image - a coat-hanger, a drawing, etc. - forms the basis of our understanding. We may "flash" on that image (or maybe not, but the image is always there, ready to be called upon if we have to do something new or complicated with it.)
According to Thomas, this all means that our reasoning is part of our "imagination." We do our thinking with our imagination because thinking involves constructing a reality that is not there. "4" is not "there" until we add "2 plus 2." The inalienable rights of Man are not "there" until we work through our argument.
Accordingly, we need a substantial storehouse of "phantasms" or "images" which are retained in our memory if we want to have have a vibrant imagination and a powerful ability to reason.
We can sometimes see this in practical application. People who know things - whose memories are filled with the images provided by experience - can see things that those who lack that experience cannot see. In one of his books, the late Stephen Jay Gould - who was an expert on snails - talked about how he was on an expedition with other biologists who overlooked the many fossilized snails that Gould saw as standing out in
bas relief. In other words, having the images of snails in his memory allowed him to see snails, which he then used to substantiate his theory of "punctuated evolution." I'm sure that we have all had a similar - albeit "non-snail" - experience at some time.
If Gould had not had those images in his memory, he wouldn't have seen the snails, and our intellectual life might have been poorer for that lack.
Hence, from a Thomistic standpoint, by starving our memory, Google may be weakening our ability to reason.