Reading to Save the World
why reading matters now more than ever
What if I were to tell you that reading can save the world?
Of course, that sounds like a clickbait headline, but in many senses I believe it really is true. Over the last two thousand years, society has pushed and pushed for utopia. We are tired, running on fumes, constantly giving our energies over to the mass media of online life.
But the problem with the desire for progress is that it’s insatiable. It’s like a snowball rolling down a mountainside. It can easily cause an avalanche and take everything down with it. Before we know it we are buried under twenty feet of snow, trapped.
Of course, this is not really a new phenomenon. In fact, it’s as old as humanity. In the garden, Adam and Eve were tempted to “be like God.” Is that not what progress is? Progress says we are autonomous. We can become like God through technological advancement, internal self-procurement, and societal mass movements.
Transhumanism promises autonomy through technological advancement. We can transcend our limits if only we integrate with technology. Of course this plays out in lesser ways as well. Internal self-procurement tells us that if we only take the right supplements, do the right workout, bonesmash and looksmax enough, we will find peace. And of course societal mass movements tell us that if we join in a cause, we can achieve utopia here and now.
The desire for progress is our attempt to do what God seemingly couldn’t, or wouldn’t do—make ourselves like Him. But isn’t that the biggest lie? He created us in His image, and yet we strive to distort that image. Progress is ever speeding up.
In the face of the marching progress of modernity, reading is one of the best ways we can slow down and push back. In this short post, I hope to offer three ways reading resists that pressure. First, reading is slow formation—it forces us to decelerate. Second, reading is real conversation—we engage voices we might otherwise dismiss. Third, reading cultivates community—we grow together, and closer to God, as we connect to the golden thread of history woven through events and literature.
Andrew Tate is making the rounds—yet again—on the internet for saying, “Reading books is a very cheap way to entertain…I’m too smart to read…it’s for people with slow brains.” Language warning—but I’m sharing this so you can hear just how ludicrous it is.
The manosphere contingent that Tate represents is pseudo-intellectual and truly a mockery. But what’s really disturbing to me is that Tate is trying to teach young men (his core audience) that reading is pointless. I’m here to counter that by saying reading is not just important—it is essential, dare I say imperative, that young men pick up books.
I don’t write this as someone unfamiliar with that mindset. I am ashamed to say that I did not become a reader until college. Now, nearly fifteen years later, I am an editor by day, and I read and write by night.
I’ve also spent quite a bit of time reading biographies of some of history’s greatest minds, and reading was almost always a part of their development. One of my favorites in this regard is John Adams. Adams was a Harvard-educated lawyer and a farmer in Braintree, Massachusetts. Over the course of his life, he acquired more than 6,000 books — not bad for a lawyer-president-farmer-diplomat-father-founder.
So here are some reasons why I think reading is important for character formation today. Now, I am not saying YouTube videos or Podcasts are unimportant, but that there is a special place for reading. As we face the pressures of progress — reading is one tool we can use to save the world.
Reading as Slow Formation
Technology is fast and it is seemingly infinite.
I can open my phone and watch almost any video I want, or check any social media I desire. News draws our eyes away from those around us — local communities, family, and friends — and fixates them on problems far beyond our control. And yet we get hooked.
One way social media and tech companies do this is by understanding that speed is everything. The quicker they can get you to make decisions, the easier it will be to form and manipulate you. This is why, after any significant world event, there are thousands of people who try to piece together what is happening, and they are almost always wrong. I recently saw a “report” that said “Broncos make the Super Bowl” … only the Broncos were sitting on their couches at home. The author was hoping to “predict” the future, and secure views.
Technology is all about fast formation. It thrives on it.
Reading, on the other hand, is the opposite. Reading requires concentration. It requires, not speed, but perseverance. A book can take hours and hours. And this is a good thing. You see, in the age of technological progress, the only way to fight back is not to feed it, but to control it. Instead of giving into speed, choose to read a book slowly. Deeply.
Reading as Real Conversation
One of the most insightful pieces of advice I have heard about reading came during my freshman year of college. I was a young, naive history major. My professor was a well-known historian. “When you read history,” he said, “you are not merely taking in information. You are engaging in a conversation with someone.” Today I would add, “and that person will often disagree with you, and that’s okay.”
Sadly, today, we are averse to conversation. We dislike talking about hard things with people who disagree with us. This is where reading can help. When you pick up a book you are engaging with another person in dialogue. They are going to say some things that you disagree with. They will say things you agree with. Reading trains us to listen and respond.
Back to Tate’s point, this really goes against his narrative. For Tate, he knows all he needs to know. He doesn’t need anyone else.
Reading as Community Cultivation
Americans are facing a crisis of community. Technology has isolated us, despite connecting us. Our lives are discontinuous slivers of time. Reading, surprisingly, is one antidote to this loneliness.
When you read, you join a community. Not just the community of the author’s mind—though that is profound—but the community of everyone who has read that book. You now share something with strangers. You can talk about it. Recommend it. Debate it. Reading creates the possibility for real connection. I’m a big overzealous with my creation of reading groups. If I’m hanging out with several people and someone says “I read this book” then chances are I have to tell myself “Do not make things weird and start another group.” But I do think this is essential. Reading as formation happens when reading is discussed. We need to reclaim the salon, guild, and debate hall.
Reading not only connects us with each other, but reading also connects us across time. When I read Augustine for instance, I am not just learning information. I am joining a great conversation that spans centuries. I am becoming part of a tradition. And in an age that worships the new and forgets the old, this is revolutionary. I am always saddened by the tyranny of the present we see today. We are always better than those before us. I find this to be something evident in Tate, but also in many of our social movements. We know better because we can find things easier…well, it doesn’t work that way. Nothing is new.
To put it more concisely, I’m convinced that one reason we are afraid of the past is that we think we know better. I’m not sure that’s the case. As Ecclesiastes 1:9 reminds us, “What has been is what will be, and what has been done is what will be done, and there is nothing new under the sun.”
The community we inherit through books is one that reminds us of our finality. We are only here for a season and then we are gone. But the community also reminds us that there is a golden thread. For Christians, the golden thread spans all of time, but weaves all things to Calvary.
In the face of sentiments like Tate’s, we need to revive a culture of reading. One of the best ways to slow down and resist the stranglehold of modern progress is to sit down with a good book and enter into a real conversation.
Amen to all of this.
I’m sure I took a wildly different approach than you, but I’m writing on the same topic right now. I’ll wait to read yours until I’m done.