Status
Call number
Publication
Description
As we enjoy the Internet's bounties, are we sacrificing our ability to read and think deeply? Carr describes how human thought has been shaped through the centuries by "tools of the mind"--from the alphabet to maps, to the printing press, the clock, and the computer--and interweaves recent discoveries in neuroscience. Now, he expands his argument into a compelling exploration of the Internet's intellectual and cultural consequences. Our brains, scientific evidence reveals, change in response to our experiences. Building on insights of thinkers from Plato to McLuhan, Carr makes a case that every information technology carries a set of assumptions about the nature of knowledge and intelligence. The printed book served to focus our attention, promoting deep and creative thought. In contrast, the Internet encourages rapid, distracted sampling of small bits of information. As we become ever more adept at scanning and skimming, are we losing our capacity for concentration, contemplation, and reflection?--From publisher description.… (more)
Media reviews
User reviews
Like No Logo and Shopped, The Shallows is hard to summarise in any meaningful way because its argument is so complex and sweeping. This is not a book to devour whole – it is a book to be carefully read, considered and absorbed. Carr isn’t a nostalgic professor yearning for the old days of leather-bound tomes and quill pens. But while he readily admits that the Internet has become a vital, entertaining and useful tool in his everyday life, he was also beginning to worry about the unseen effects of his online life. This book is the eloquent sum of his extensive and thorough research.
It’s quite a ride. In exploring his subject, Carr reaches way back into the history of intellectual technology, considering the impact of early innovations such as maps, clocks and the book on human life. From there he moves into the age of the computer, from the earliest machines through to the all-pervasive use of the Internet we see around us today. The last few decades, he explains, have raced by in a blur, and suddenly the World Wide Web is our medium of choice for almost everything we do.
But what about the biological impact of the Internet? Here is where things get really interesting. Modern neurobiological studies have shown that the brain’s neuroplasticity allows it to change with each experience, each path to learning we take. And thanks to the Internet, our brains really are shifting, away from paths that allow deep reading and reflective thought, and towards a chemistry geared to process the distraction and rapid-fire information that the Internet represents. Carr shows how even reading a simple page containing links and hypertext is a far cry from reading a page in a book, requiring us to stop, however fleetingly, to process the meaning of the link (What does it link to? Does it sound interesting? Will it be relevant to me?) and demonstrably disrupting our absorption in and thus our understanding of the text. In fact, it uses a different area of the brain entirely, one geared towards problem solving rather than comprehension. A little scary given the way schools and other institutions are already throwing out their books and replacing them with PCs and e-readers, isn’t it?
I could keep going forever, but the point of the matter is this: the Internet can be damaging. And as the future entwines itself more and more tightly with the virtual world, it makes sense to be savvy enough about its effects to be able to use and enjoy it without allowing it to destroy the things we value: our attention, our concentration and our ability to understand and process information that requires a little more involvement to fully grasp. Go, buy the book. It may just turn out to be one of the most timely and vital books of the decade. Open your eyes, open your mind – and maybe it’ll change your life too.
Rising from an article the author wrote for THE ATLANTIC (July/August 2008) "Is Google making us stupid?" Cass takes us on a trip through the mental history of thinking, producing ideas, and handing on those thoughts and ideas to others. He discusses oral tradition, early writing starting with cuneiform and hieroglyphics, and marches on to the invention of scrolls, and the Phoenician, Greek and Roman alphabets.
He progresses to examine the importance of the discoveries and use of paper, the printing press and the book, and brings us to the present with a discussion of the role of the computer, the World Wide Web and the "instant-ness" of search engines such as Google. He includes an excellent explanation of the the role of Google in its project to digitize every book ever written, and the impact that will have (both good and bad) on research. All of these 'tools of the mind' had an impact on man's ability to obtain, retain, and pass on information. Each era used those tools within a certain ethic.
Throughout all of this, he documents scientific studies showing how the human brain works with each of these 'tools' and how over the centuries, each new thought medium produced a concomitant change in our brains and how they functioned. He is objective, but does manage quite eloquently to let us know that he is concerned that our current state of constant 'connectedness' is becoming detrimental to certain types of mental activity such as 'deep thinking' and sites several studies and experiments to support his position.
Whether I agree or disagree remains to be seen. For now all I can say is "get this one" (or at least get in line at the library for it--the hold list here is already several long). It is clearly and cogently written, quite easy to read in spite of the technical aspects, disturbing and encouraging at the same time. Every parent, teacher, reader, librarian should become familiar with his theory.
He begins and ends by reminding us of Stanley Kubrick's"2001: A Space Odyssey."
"That's the essence of Kubrick's dark prophecy: as we come to rely on computers to mediate our understanding of the world, it is our own intelligence that flattens into artificial intelligence."
I'm sure Mr. Carr would be more than happy to see his closing lines proved wrong. I certainly would.
One of my favorite passages is Carr's description of ELIZA, a computer program that simulates a Rogerian therapist. Carr describes its programmer's astonishment at the emotional reactions people had to the ELIZA software.
Even his secretary, who had watched him write the code for ELIZA “and surely knew it to be merely a computer program,” was seduced. After a few moments using the software at a terminal in Weizenbaum's office, she asked the professor to leave the room because she was embarrassed by the intimacy of the conversation. “What I had not realized,” said Weizenbaum, “is that extremely short exposures to a relatively simple computer program could induce powerful delusional thinking in quite normal people.”
I remember being amused by ELIZA as an early teen. This was in the early days of personal computers, before software downloads, when you could buy books of BASIC programs and type them into your home computer. I think I typed the code for ELIZA into my father's computer, and I never believed the computer was doing anything other than what it had been told to do. I thought that it said more about the limitations of Rogerian therapy than it did about the humanness of the computer. (I should add that my father's educational background is social psychology and at that time he was teaching college level psychology. Otherwise I wouldn't have known any more about psychology than the average teenager.)
Recommended for readers interested in technology and its effects on society.
First, Carr’s writing is, at times, a bit lazy. Consider page 50: “Language is not a technology. It’s native to our species.” This claim is spurious. Our brains may be hard-wired for communication, but language in all its forms fits the definition of “technology” that Carr seems to be using. He might have said, “Our desire and ability to communicate are not technologies. They are native to our species.”
Second, Carr seems to want to argue that the human mind is more than a computational machine. Again, I am sympathetic to this claim, but Carr seems unable to prove his point with any great rigor. If you find this argument compelling, but note that it has been made poorly, then I recommend Jaron Lanier’s /You Are Not a Gadget/ for a deeper understanding of how the Internet truly has facilitated mechanistic, anonymous, non-human interactions among humans.
Finally, the book is weakened in that it ignores significant counterarguments. The debate is over what the Internet is doing to our brains. A strong counter-argument would point out that the Internet is part of a growing trend of literacy and educational attainment. People in rural areas, who cannot leave their families to attend a 4-year institution in the flesh, can now attend high-quality, non-profit colleges online, for example. Online access to high-quality content benefits high school students, university professors, and amateur genealogists. YouTube can teach us kitchen techniques and rudimentary bike repair.
Are we doing stupid things with the Internet? Yes. Do people choose to be lazy while using the Internet, to find easy answers to complex questions? Yes. But if we weren’t wasting our time with the Internet -- we would be wasting it elsewhere. And poorly-conceived books and scurrilous yellow journalism were both being printed long before the Internet came along.
For every 20 youths who now surf the Web instead of watching MTV, there’s a rural, place-bound single mom who can get a “two-year” or “four-year” degree online. For every 20 adults who waste time reading /The Onion/ at work, there are scholars who can find online texts that make their work possible, or at least simpler and cheaper.
Blaming the Internet (which is unlikely to go away) is too easy. It's like blaming steel for swords.
Carr lines up his ducks quite nicely. He starts by demonstrating that the way we think is shaped by the way we read, and that the way we read is shaped by the technologies we possess, by giving a broad overview of the history of print, heavily drawing on Marshall McLuhan, Walter Ong, and Elizabeth Eistenstein. There were a lot of things I knew here, but also ones I didn't-- loved the assertion (I think it came from Ong) that we couldn't have had the scientific revolution without the printing press. From there, he discusses research into how we think is presently being reshaped by the Internet and other electronic technologies. It's hard not to argue with any of his conclusions-- these things are almost certainly happening. Sometimes his arguments boil down to "McLuhan was right all along," but given that we've forgotten that, it's worth repeating.
What are we to do about it? That's where I wish that Carr had gone further. It's fine for his article to not delve into potential actions, but in a book-length work it seems like something of an oversight and misstep. I'm trying to cut down on my Internet use, for what it's worth, but that's hard to do with a brain like mine in a world like ours.
There was more substance to this book than I expected from the title (sorry, Mr.
Carr tells us, most convincingly, that it is very likely that none of these are true. His review of the research in memory and neurology is extensive, as is his consideration of the impact of the technology on the way we seek and make use of information. This book is an important addition to the libraries of researchers and upper-school educators, particularly for those who are designing online education and course websites.
In The Shallows, Carr sets out to define not only how our brains are "wired" for certain cognitive tasks, but also covers in detail how our brains got that way, in the form of a history of learning, from oral histories to effects the written word. While interesting in it's own right, this portion of the book seemed to be simply filler compared to the actual thesis. Once Carr focused on the topic, my patience was rewarded.
There are things we have always suspected but never confirmed. In the case of this book, it's the illusion that "multitasking" is an admirable skill. Carr cites studies that show that nearly always, multitasking means that a single task simply isn't done well. We retain less information, and are inclined to take the most expedient route to a solution. The Internet, Carr contends, is a substitute for memory -- while it has great capacity as a reservoir of knowledge, it does not abet individual thought or inventiveness. Carr cites studies that show multitaskers are much more likely to accept a known solution to a problem because the net makes it expedient to do so. Creativity that could generate a better solution is relegated to a secondary roll -- the demands of multitasking always lead to the most expedient solution. Those of us living the multitasking lifestyle are doing so on a very superficial level, hence the title of the book, The Shallows.
One example that Carr visits multiple times is that of a graduate student, top of his class, who refuses to read books and has declared them obsolete. This student is a Rhodes Scholar, and yet feels no need to ever read an entire book. Carr contends that reading a book not only exercises the skill of focus, but also can lead to a deeper understanding on a given topic than Google-delivered web pages could ever hope hope to achieve. Research has borne this out: comprehension on straight text (ie, books), is far greater than the measured results of readers following hyper-linked documents.
I admit I do use the Net in much the manner that promotes the bad habits Carr describes. Now, I also read on average a book a week, so there may be some hope yet. I am, however, now more acutely aware of behavior that potentially dumbs-down the human species. I just told my girlfriend that I had no need to remember how to convert from C to F in the temperature scale. The internet can reember for me. However, she actually need so know this stuff. I am certain what she needs to know is best, even if the future will lead to the most expedient solution.
In The Shallows, Nicholas Carr questions the impact technology has upon our lives. What’s most important here is that Carr is in no way advocating a return to the pre-technology era. He admits that much good has been done and will be done by technology, and he fesses up to loving and relying on technology himself. However, he examines the idea of neuroplasticity—the idea that the brain rewires itself to adapt to the stimuli it encounters. During the age of the book, the brain had to rewire itself to be able to focus for long periods of time upon text and to think about that text deeply. This didn’t happen all at once, but was accelerated as books became more readily available to a more widely educated public. Our minds became accustomed to taking in information if not rapidly, then intensely as our brains had time to ruminate on and process the information they encountered. The result was a deep thinking, literate individual. People became experts in specific areas and the keepers of knowledge associated with their particular field of specialty. They were responsible for filtering, critiquing, and judging the quality of new knowledge which had to be “vetted” before it could be accepted as accurate and true.
So what have we sacrificed in this age of point and click? We’re losing the idea of specialization, which is one of the more frightening aspects to me. Any idiot with access to a keyboard and an Internet connection can post anything they want online and it’s accepted as truth. A society that becomes accustomed to finding any and all information online may never learn anything deeply (and what will happen when Skynet becomes self-aware, takes over, and the machines rise against us, eh?) Instead, people will have little pockets of knowledge supplemented by what they can find online. Also, I have to wonder how many innovations and ideas were serendipitously created when answers weren’t easy to find. When an answer can be found through a quick web search, the deep thinking that may lead to phenomenal breakthroughs and intense creativity may be forfeited. In addition, our attention spans are suffering. We bounce from hyperlink to hyperlink, chasing new pieces of information which we scan quickly and, because we read over it so quickly, it’s never stored in our long-term memory. The next time we need that information we’ll have to log back on and find it again instead of relying on our ability to recall it.
Carr’s book is not the ramblings of an ill-informed radical. This book is well-researched and Carr traces how the human brain has evolved throughout history, including pre-technology, to show that neuroplasticity has allowed us to adapt to our ever-changing environments. There’s hard science here as well. If you don’t agree with Carr’s thesis by the end, there’s no denying that he’s done his homework.
I love technology and I think Nicholas Carr does, too. Carr’s book is not an indictment of technology, but rather a call for the public to be cognizant of the ways in which technology is affecting us—both the good and the bad. Our society has so quickly and readily embraced technology that we haven’t thought about the potential long-term tradeoffs. When we think about it and realize, “Hey, wait a minute. This food I’ve planted on Farmville—I can’t eat one damn bit of it”, then we might become more responsible about how and when we use technology (and maybe we’ll go plant a garden in the backyard). I know that I, for one, have started logging off more frequently and making sure that the time I do spend online is enriching my life in some way.
The author expresses concern that the internet is reducing our ability to process and retain information. He cites many scientific studies to make his point that it is, in fact, rewiring our brains. He examines the many distractions offered by the internet, and how following hyperlinks can result in an unexpected adverse impact on memory.
“When we read a book, the information faucet provides a steady drip, which we can control by the pace of our reading. Through our single-minded concentration on the text, we can transfer all or most of the information into long-term memory and forge the rich associations essential to the creation of schemas. With the net we face many information faucets all going full blast.”
In addition to brain science, he relates a history of communications. It is quite informative about the history of language, alphabets, early printing presses, books, the typewriter, word processing. Each of these advances have impacted the way humans process information. He looks at trends in writing and publishing. I sincerely hope his statements about the future of the book (in any format) does not come to pass. This book was published in 2010, so I imagine what has happened since then would reinforce his message.
Prior to reading this book, I had already quit all social media except Goodreads. The author does not advocate such “extreme” measures, but my peace of mind has improved immensely. This is definitely a book that will prompt people to reevaluate their usage of the internet.
Carr progresses through the history of different technologies, especially the progress into a reading culture and how these
Carr's second point (actually before history of technology), is that neuroscience has shown that our minds are much more "plastic" and malleable than we were told. This rings true, since I was taught that our minds were fairly fixed after say the age of five. New research that he puts forward refutes that old theory, but also emphasizes that the more a certain thought process or technology is used, the more the mind becomes fixed into that format.
His basic theme then comes into play that our move from a reading culture towards one based on the internet (and booming popularity of ebooks) is changing our minds from deep reading, linear, thoughtful focus to a much more distracted, superficial, scatter shot. I see some truth in this theory, but I think it is too soon to put down as an absolute version of the future. Over the last 6 years, I have become progressively focused more on the internet and reading books (physical). I tend to watch very little television, and actually avoid it quite a bit because of how much more pleasurable the internet or good book can be. Is this contradictory to Carr's thesis? I think so.
Overall a good read and glance through Carr's take on the research he put forward. I'll have to do a little more "deep reading" on the subject to see if there is research that contradicts his analysis.
I’m trying to write a review of Nicholas Carr’s new book, The Shallows, and all the while, I can’t seem to stop myself from checking TweetDeck every few minutes (there just did it again);
This is the welter of distractions we face every day, for those of us who are wired, reading, and working. Even if you’re disciplined, the distraction is there — it takes an act of will to resist it, and what happens to your brain in that instant while you’re deciding if you should click on that link, open up that Facebook app, or make a comment on the article you’ve been reading between tasks?
A lot. In fact, your brain is being rewired while we you read this, assuming, of course, you’ve made it this far in the review and you’re still reading.
This is why I believe everyone who has any interest at all in the Internet, the web and reading should study this book. If you’re intrigued by the ultimate the fate of the human species, and where this information age is taking us, you’ll want to have a look. Hell, probably anyone who uses the net should consider at least scanning it. (Yes, more irony.)
Carr’s writing and research is excellent, and his thesis is straightforward: we’re giving up part of our humanity in the headlong rush to absorb as much information as we can, as quickly as we can. The book discusses the history of media, and how our brains have changed before — first with the advent of writing, and then with the development of Guttenburg’s press; he carries the argument from current studies of the brain and consciousness to the flawed model of our brains as computers and our minds as software; he delves into how philosophers and other thinkers have meditated on this subject throughout history.
And it is exactly the discipline of meditation, and “deep reading” as he calls it, that we are starting to lose with the web. It’s changing our writing, our thinking, and ultimately, it’s changing our culture.
If nothing else, this book will help you be more aware of what is happening to you on a daily basis. I’ve already been aware of some of the effects he discusses — for example, when I’m writing a piece of long fiction, I always make sure my computer is disconnected from the net, and I don’t have any other programs except for my word processor (and iTunes) open. Now, I see that I need to give my brain at more of a break from the constant info-dump of the net than that.
We’re all altering human evolution with this experiment, and who knows where it will end? Carr is not optimistic, and he worries that when it is all over, we will no longer be homo sapiens, we will be homo informavore.
I have been bothered by the internet even though I use it a great deal. Several times in previous months my wife has asked me, "so what happened
Nicholas Carr makes this process understandable -- that it isn't just a personal failing and it isn't just an accident. What makes this book so persuasive is that he can clearly state, and even defend, the opposing point of view, showing that he is not interested in merely creating a persuasive narrative to defend his case. He shows how the internet is like all the other great technologies (and information technologies) that humans adopted. After all, Socrates seemed to think that writing things down would make us stupid. But the internet is also very different, and Carr tells us how and why, by looking at everything from the physiology of the brain and the structure of memory, to contemporary icons such as "the church of Google."
The one negative of this book is that he does not give us any remedies, either as a society or as individuals, nor does he try. (There are, though, some hints strewn around as to how individuals could alleviate its effects.) Should we modify or restrict internet access? Should we modify or restrict our own use of the internet? It's not clear where we're supposed to go, and I suspect that Carr isn't interested in solutions at this point, just in presenting the problem, which he has done very well, thank you very much.
This is a book which really is changing my personal behavior. I'm not giving up the internet yet, but I'm not going to put any hyperlinks in that blog post I'm writing.
Not many people paint the internet in unfavourable terms. It's the information superhighway, an unlimited source of information and connectivity at our fingertips, and our biggest distraction. Our short-term memory can only hold amount of data. It takes time to ship that data into our long-term memory. The internet, with its style of reading which combines multimedia and hyperlinks, overfills our short-term memory and shortcuts our ability to digest information.
Some suggest that filling our long-term memory with data is pointless now, since we can Google it in a heartbeat online. Carr takes the idea of internet-as-external-memory to task. Our long-term memories actually make us who we are. It's not enough to know where data is located: it has to be absorbed to form a worldview.
Carr's book isn't one-sided—he's no Luddite. There are incredible benefits added to the human experience by the internet. Carr's persuading us to be informed about how it is changing the way we think.
Whilst much of the furore that came after the publication of his article/this book ascribes him to being a drum-bashing technophobe, there is little Luddite rhetoric here, and this book is far from the grandiloquent jeremiad its often labelled as being. The book itself is largely well-written, with the core argument never far from the narrative, and there is plenty of research here to back up the claims. Certainly this is no serious scholarly work, the charge often levelled at Carr that he only cherry-picked research findings which bolstered his main argument is probably justified, but there is enough food here for thought. The arguments of the aforementioned article have been padded out with some interesting historical background, findings from the realms of neuroscience and psychology, and parallels to other technological shifts, but at times it does feel like one is reading an undergraduate essay hurried off to a deadline: a string of hopefully worthy quotes, strung together by the occasionally conjunction ("..." and "...", however "..."). The best chapters are those which don't shy away from using the personal pronoun 'I' and reflect the authors own observant struggles with the new age technologies, and the sadly all too short chapter on the Internet's influence on our use of memory is of its own a very thought-provoking aside.
At less than 250 sparsely-packed pages, this is a book that shouldn't exhaust even the attention span of the novus homo it describes. It should be of interest to people born both sides of the Internet divide, and the well-researched reports on historical parallels and psychological aspects offer plenty of titbits for our minds to work on. The reproach that Carr offers no solutions to the problematic developments he highlights is, in my opinion, to the book's strengths not weaknesses. It is a commentary, rather than a critique. Social change can be halted about as easily as the tides, though we might as individuals choose to tread our own paths. But it behoves us all well to acknowledge Change's existence.
This is not a diatribe on the ills of technology, but it is a warning that too much of a "good" thing can have detrimental effects. Starting with reading and writing (the first of many technologies), Carr maps how the brain's structures have been altered by the technological tools humans have developed over the years. Yet, as he point out, until the advent of accessible network technology, all human tools served specific functions that kept them limited: radios only broadcast audio, film and television sent images and sound, cassettes and vinyl, audio. In contrast, computer technology is a media that "does it all"--it is the one-stop shopping for all communications, entertainment, information. It is all-encompassing, and all-enslaving.
The Shallows raises questions about when enough is too much, and how we can become more conscientious users of informational technologies so that we don't lose the richness and depth that is human thought and the human mind.
(from the book jacket)....He challenges that with Net use we are sacrificing our ability to read and think deeply.....the technologies that we use to find, store and share information can literally reroute our neural pathways,....we are becoming ever more adept at scanning and skimming but what we are losing is our capacity for concentration, contemplation and reflection.
This is a very interesting and somewhat disturbing book. It is well written and well referenced.
It is very easy to be whisked away by technology without seeing the changes that it is making in us and for us over time. It brings many of those changes to a conscious level.