The deprivation of the outside world during COVID-19 caused us to develop a learned helplessness in the world of academia. Our generation forgot how to be resourceful and rely on oneself to solve problems. We over-rely on our professors and parents to tell us what to do and how to do it.
Our attention spans, which were not long to begin with in this fast-paced technological environment, have shortened, and we now require additional stimulation. I even have to put on some kind of YouTube gaming video or whatever show I’m currently watching on Netflix to help myself lock into my work.
Brainrot has filled the stimulation hole COVID-19 created, where our brains have regressed to that of iPad kids — consuming the most mind-numbing content just to get our fill of stimulation. We all know the terms better than we know our own course content, which we pay thousands of dollars for. We know 67, Ningning is the MAKNAE and Tung Tung Sahur more than we know our basics in geography, world politics and grammar.
The implications of this downfall of brain function are more than just general commentary on the rise of anti-intellectualism. The implications are real-life consequences for every profession under the sun.
Even as journalists, we are being taught to write our articles to have shorter sentences and simpler words to compensate for our readers’ lower attention spans and lack of literacy. We’re taught against compound sentences and told to use simple words to assist with readability. We’re told to compose our articles with several sections to avoid one long article.
The Times-Delphic website has a plug-in called Yoast SEO that allows us to see the readability of each article. For an article to get an acceptable readability score, it generally needs to be less than 300 words, have several sections breaking the article up or be made up of short sentences no longer than 20 words.
It’s difficult for us to balance getting all the necessary information to our readers and presenting it in an easy-to-understand format for today’s standards. Lack of literacy doesn’t always mean an inability to read. It also means an inability to take the time to read something longer than a few lines of text.
I would wager my entire monthly Drake student journalist salary (which isn’t much to begin with) that almost all of our readers have not made it this far into my piece.
Look, I’m not free of fault in this topic either. I have clicked off of this writing tab more times than I can count to mindlessly scroll through X, or I’ve opened my phone to scroll through Instagram. I find it hard to just sit and read something printed without additional auditory stimulation.
It’s not something I’m proud of, but there are some peers who are content in this endless cycle of stimulation seeking. There are some who proudly don’t want to disengage from these cycles and who refuse to literally go touch grass.
If you’re still reading this — and you’ve earned your part of my monthly salary — go learn something new today. Go to Cowles Library and check out a random book, explore Wikipedia for an hour or even just sit under the moon with nothing but music. Find a new hyperfixation about some obscure historical event or scientific study. Broaden your understanding of something. Discover how to find your own resources.
Learn by yourself, don’t expect the world to do it all for you.
