We choose not to bend as the grip of our attention is softened and lost—we read, against the dying of the cognitive light.
It's far too easy to notice your attention span slowly dying and feel helpless, giving in to that most tragic aspect of an otherwise fantastical technological society. Do not be like those elite college students who can't read books, as described in this Atlantic article.
"I can't read books anymore," a student told me recently. "I can only read articles or listen to podcasts."
This confession has become commonplace, even among our most academically accomplished students. The ability to sustain attention through an entire book—once the foundation of education—is eroding rapidly.
Majoring textbooks is an act of rebellion against this trend. It's a declaration that we will not surrender our cognitive capabilities to the attention economy. It's a commitment to the kind of deep thinking that has driven human progress for centuries.
The practice requires discipline, certainly. But more than that, it requires belief—belief that your mind is capable of more than you've been led to think, belief that the rewards of deep engagement outweigh the dopamine hits of shallow consumption.