Social media mega-influencer, Dancing With The Stars alum, and University of Miami graduate Alix Earle recently stated in a discussion with Interview Magazine that she’s “never read a book.”
The influencer laughed when asked about the last book she read. “I’ve never read a book. Like, maybe Dr. Seuss,” she offered, sitting cross-legged and sporting a glamorous hairdo.
Sure, the comment isn’t a good example for the millions of young girls who watch Earle’s content regularly, but there’s room for doubt. Is that statement literally true, or was Alix (who has a namesake scholarship at the University of Miami) speaking facetiously?
It’s probably best not to take the comment too seriously, but it certainly raises broader questions about American culture and casual expectations around literacy.
As the never-ending digital churn continues, Americans are moving away from long-form reading and towards short pieces of visual content. Authors like Rose Horowitch have hailed the arrival of a “post-literate” society, arguing that the age of reading (that is, for some Western countries) has come and gone.
It’s not yet time to seal the vault on the age of reading, but it’s undeniably facing a problem out of the pages of Huxley’s Brave New World: most people would rather do pretty much anything than read a book, let alone a thoughtful, comprehensive text.
Of course, there’s lots of pure text being read. Between social media notifications, posts, and stories, the sheer quantity of words that flash in front of eyeballs is staggering. Someone who scrolls the Internet as a regular part of their day could easily read the word count equivalent of a book like War and Peace.
Naturally, kindergarten teachers do not spend hours upon hours teaching phonics just so little Braxton can navigate social media. The natural aim beyond mere literacy is understanding. The ability to juggle complex arguments, weigh moral choices, and ponder questions slowly and methodically is both the goal of every teacher and an entry requirement to democracy.
In other words, it’s good for people to challenge their brains regularly by cracking open some books. Allowing the brain to descend into emotional, animalistic slop by feeding it a constant diet of social media words (or a diet of no words at all) both wounds the individual and guts democratic communities.
It’s human nature to complain about things always getting worse, but when it comes to regular book-reading, things really have taken a downward turn. In 2003, 26 percent of American adults read for pleasure. In 2023, only 16 percent did. The National Endowment for the Arts notes that in 2022, only 48.5 percent of American adults read a book at all during the year. (That self-reported figure means that there’s no way to know if that book was War and Peace or The Cat in the Hat.)
Nowadays, the education policy world is quite worried about the rise of “skills instruction,” which prioritizes the ability to read a short text and squeeze meaning out of it over the slow accumulation of a knowledge and vocabulary base. This form of instruction can allow students to initially score well on standardized tests, but over time causes the ability to assess long-form arguments to atrophy.
The 2024 Atlantic essay The Elite College Students Who Can’t Read Books illuminates what happens to students who experience such an education system. One college student at a selective university had never been assigned an entire text throughout her high school experience. Understandably, she struggled to read a single book in her literature courses.
Her story isn’t unique. Universities throughout the country have had to trim down syllabi and increase remedial student support to account for students who simply can’t read at the expected university level.
While the situation is alarming, education expert Robert Pondiscio has reminded us that novels haven’t yet disappeared from the classroom. Reacting to a Rand report on assigned texts in the classroom, he writes
Clearly, [the report does not suggest] a picture of novels disappearing entirely from classrooms. But neither is it particularly reassuring… [W]hich books students are reading: graphic novels or classic literature? The authors also acknowledged, “We do not know the form their assignment took; teachers could have used the book for whole-class instruction or as a choice for independent reading.” The researchers’ most troubling finding is that teachers serving disadvantaged students consistently assign fewer books.
There’s still time for a turnaround. High expectations start at the K-12 level, with parents and teachers that require rigorous coursework for their students. As Pondiscio mentions, it’s especially worrying that our disadvantaged students are systemically not being given opportunities to sink their minds into difficult texts.
Community members can aid districts by requesting long-form texts for students, and supporting teachers and administrators once they’re assigned.
Those of us who are eager to disparage young people like Alix for ignoring the gift of literacy should remember that the decline in reading is present among all age groups. Reading as a lifestyle habit must become an attractive, desirable trait for everyone.
The best way to revitalize reading is to lead by example. Reading to young children improves their longterm cognitive ability and can instill a lifelong love of reading. Reading with friends (both old and new) can improve the mind and the community.
One last thought: the best way to read with new friends is to join the American Experiment Book Club!