Movie-makers are being advised to repeat key plot points at various points in their movies because audiences can’t sit through a fucking movie without being distracted by their phones. My niece and nephew do this all the time – they will periodically check their phone if we are watching a movie at home or in the theater, as if their CEO is breathing down their neck waiting for an update on something. They’re only sixteen, so it looks like the next generation is already gone when it comes to any sort of attention span.
Part of it probably stems from the ten-second window within which people now expect to be grabbed or wowed or impressed enough to retain any sort of allegiance. Part of it might stem from the quick-paced way Tik Tok and social media works – and the way that podcasts and videos offer the option of double or triple speed playback. I’ve never taken part of that because my brain isn’t wired that way. It would seem to suck out all the enjoyment of something – if you are engrossed in a podcast or video, if you’re interested in the topic and loving what they are saying, why would you want to rush through it? It might allow for you to ingest more, but ingesting something is decidedly and crucially different than digesting something. Quantity rarely bests quality – our rush to take in more and more and more doesn’t help in deeper understanding.
That also feeds into the epidemic disaster that is FOMO, currently derailing all sorts of meaningful moments because people are so obsessed with what they might be missing – an overload of possibility, and an inability to make a decision and stick to it without wondering if something better is happening; what a horrid way to go through life.
But I’m old now, and honest enough to acknowledge that this could just be the ramblings of age, the way it’s been through centuries. I don’t entirely buy that – it feels different, and teachers I’ve talked to indicate that there is very much a marked difference in how long a student can focus now than just a decade ago. That’s a little too dismaying to think on for any length of time, and for a Sunday morning I’ve left enough dour words for the final gasp of the weekend.
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