Everyone knows fast food isn’t good for you. But that doesn’t stop us from indulging once in a while, or feeling sorry for folks with unhealthy food addictions. That a burger can cost more than a broccoli head is a problem. But that isn’t the problem I want to talk about here. The infinite information feed, endlessly scrollable, sometimes sweet, definitely salty, condensed news. Delivered daily, 24/7, piping hot.
If we viewed fast information as we do fast food, I think we’d have a much clearer time talking to each other. Let’s start with what I mean by fast information. Or a “fast feed”, as I’ll call it.
As the name suggests, it is information delivered quickly - without time to discuss the many viewpoints on a topic, their merits and their issues. It’s information delivered without empathy or appreciation for the complexities of the subject. The trade offs. Rather, fast information gives you a header, the abstract, and a conclusion. Who has time for the main body of work, let alone the history and references? Just tell me why I should care, and who is to blame for our slow progress.
When a majority of our news is consumed like this, as a fast feed, our society’s ability to have meaningful conversations breaks down. It’s analogous to our healthcare system when a majority of our food is consumed as fast food. Our ability to lead healthy lives breaks down.
The social rupture occurs in 2 ways: i) we are less tolerant of alternative viewpoints - how could anyone be against our fast feed diet, which is so clear? The “other’s” point of view is beyond hopeless, and not worth engaging with. Said another way, we are less empathetic. ii) We consider ourselves well educated on the topic, knowing enough to articulate what we think, and why we think it. Yet we do not believe there is nuance, or a middle ground worth working towards. Instead, our fast feed reinforces our beliefs, till suddenly, we feel a sense of understanding that is more trustworthy than the institutional experts we think might be corrupt.
This problem is increasingly affecting everyone, regardless of your background, community, and beliefs. The most obvious example is the political divide in America, but there are more casualties than the democracy of the free world. Friendships lost during the pandemic, as opposing ideas cast disbelief in people we thought we knew. Lives have been ruined by delayed or misplaced aid. And all of this creates a negative feedback loop of anger, and a desire to escape to one’s fast-feed fix. Which’ll helpfully point fingers while gracefully tip-toeing around the idea that itself is to blame.
A lot of what I’m saying might resonate with you, but does it hold any water? I recently finished reading Stolen Focus by Johann Hari, where this idea is dug into. Turns out, there is research that the more fiction novels you read, the better you are (on average) at reading other people’s emotions (but not for nonfiction). This improvement in our ability to empathize was also found in children who consumed more long-format TV series, or movies. But not shorter shows. I’m sure the research is weak, and more work needs to be done before anything is conclusive, but it’s a start. To me, the idea that a fast feed information diet is hurting our ability to communicate and find a middle ground is powerful. It’s easy to understand, and provides a framework moving forward. Less news from a fast feed will improve your communication. If you want to learn about the world, there are no shortcuts. I’m not saying you shouldn’t consume any information this way. Indulging once in a while is fun. But don’t trick yourself into thinking a fast feed is a nutritious information diet.