In
her segment entitled “Information Overload,” on the BBC Radio 4 program A Point of View, historian Lisa Jardine
examines the trials and tribulations of an increasing ability to record and
preserve huge amounts of information for future generations over the past few
hundred years. In the article we examined last week, Nicholas Carr argued that
the internet is flooding us with more information than we can usefully handle,
and that this constant stream of information is breaking down our ability to
focus and extract useful things from the flow. Ms. Jardine makes a similar
argument; however, she also shows that this is not a problem that is unique to
the internet, and in fact has been examined since the invention of the printing
press for a solution.
“‘Too many books, too little time’ was the complaint of
scholars like Erasmus and Descartes,” as Jardine says, which sounds not so very
different from Dan Misener complaining that “[he] often feel[s] overloaded with
information,” “with [his] always-flowing Twitter stream,
borderline-unmanageable list of RSS feeds, and…unanswered email” (“Information
Overload”; Misener 1). However, in those hundreds of years in the past, books,
though more permanent than memory, were vulnerable to weather, fire, war, and
other disasters. During the Dark Ages, all of the knowledge of mankind was
nearly lost, and so in the early days of the revival of literature, there was a
“theme of knowledge rescued from near-oblivion,” which, of course,
necessitates a constant effort to preserve all knowledge for eternity
(“Information Overload”).
This effort has, it seems, carried over into the
internet, which has become a repository for all of the information everywhere.
This serves to increase the effect that Carr examines, the need for, almost an
addiction to, a constant stream of new information – with all of the
information everywhere at our fingertips, it becomes an impossibility to
remember and make use of all of it. However, because it is there, it decreases
our ability to concentrate on the things we actually want to know and
understand, from novels to textbooks to abstract thoughts that require real
examination. Carr’s point was that in order to learn to focus, to read deeply,
again, we have to train ourselves to stop relying so much on the stream of bits
for our information. Lisa Jardine believes that it is not necessary to give it
up completely. Using the example of darning socks, she shows that much of the
information still out there is now outdated and essentially useless, other than
as a historical curiosity, and that we have to learn how to forget some of what
we know. As in writing a novel, or, as she says, a history, “a clear thread has
to be teased from the mass of available evidence, to focus, direct and
ultimately give meaning to what has been assembled,” and in order for that to
happen, some things may have to be glossed over, or forgotten, or even just
buried out of sight of the casual reader (“Information Overload”).
It is my belief, though, that
similar to what I stated in last week’s post, to fight information overload, we
have to take control of the information we experience. In a way, it is
analogous to losing weight. You can ensure that you analyze the information you
take in, understanding it and connecting it to other things you know, as I
emphasized in response to Nicholas Carr’s article. This is akin to exercising.
Dieting, the other half of losing weight, is then analogous to Lisa Jardine’s
argument that to control overload, you have to limit what information you take in,
in essence ‘forgetting’ information. As Dan Misener realizes, “most of [his]
own personal information overload is entirely self-induced,” and that “‘while
the constant flow of information is entertaining and addictive, it is, by
overwhelming consensus, primarily filled with bits that are of little to no
value’” (Misener 1). So, in order to control information overload, a good place
to start would be to cut out the portion of your daily dose of information
which is “entertaining and addictive” but has no benefit, with nothing to
analyze, understand or connect with important bits of information. In Jardine’s
words, we have to “prune the evidence” in order to “make sense for posterity” –
and ourselves (“Information Overload”).
Works Cited
Jardine, Lisa. "Information
Overload." A Point of View. BBC. BBC Radio 4, 6 Jan. 2012.
Radio.
Misener, Dan.
"How Much Information Overload Is Self-Induced?" Spark.
CBC, 20 Feb. 2009. Web. 15 Feb. 2012.
<http://www.cbc.ca/spark/2009/02/how-much-information-overload-is-self-induced/>.
"Too little books, too little time" really grabbed my attention. I seem to have this problem myself. I am constantly overwhelmed with readings but seem to not have the time to read them all so I find myself skimming and trying to constantly catch up with the many readings that are due. I am sure many college students have this same issue with the many subjects we take at one time.
ReplyDeleteThis argument makes a lot of sense, but if we don't spend time with the entertaining and addictive part of the internet, wouldn't more than half of the internet be gone? I feel like scholars perhaps would enjoy this, but for some of the people that use the internet for their personal enjoyment rather than to gather information, they'd be bored out of their mind because they use the internet as a distraction to not go through and prune information! Just a thought.
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