Intricate modern algorithms have their place but don’t seem to know their place. They and their faceless custodians would rule, not serve, the world, and never mind the human cost. Some people blame algorithms for our intellectual, political, and cultural bubbles and the toxic tribalism that results. I blame them too, in part.
Social media algorithms would rather please or provoke than inform or connect. They aim to keep us scrolling, clicking, sharing, flaming, and otherwise engaging at the expense of everything else, including work, family, friends, neighbors, quiet introspection, real-world compassion, and calm perspective.
Amazon’s algorithm, understandably, likes to show me things I might buy. It’s not very clever sometimes. A good half of those “We’ve found a book you’ll love” e-mails point me to books I found myself, online or IRL, and already added to my Amazon wish lists. I don’t remember the last time I loved any of the other suggestions.
Even Google’s vaunted search engine has strayed. It doesn’t try to give you precisely what you ask for anymore. Its AI decides what you really want and presents a selection of more-or-less related things it approves.
I’m not a Luddite. I still use Google and Amazon regularly. I use social media to keep in touch with real humans I know and to hear a diverse collection of voices I curate for myself. I also spend many hours every year reading on screens and listening to audiobooks, and I do nearly all my writing with a keyboard, not a pen.
But we do well to poke the algorithms in the eye when we can, for the good of our hearts, minds, and civilization. One of the best ways I know to do that is to take a break from the digital world, pick up a book, open it, and read for a while, then do it again tomorrow.
In a world that increasingly suffers by its detachment from physical reality, there’s something grounding, even liberating, about holding a book in my hands and turning the pages.
I wouldn’t presume to tell you which books to read or re-read this year. Just read. Open a book and read what you love. Now and then, read something you don’t love – or don’t love yet.
How those books get into our hands deserves a thought too.
I’ve renewed my 2024 goals about where I shop for books. I want to support indie booksellers, and I did better last year. Amazon accounted for less than 30% of my book purchases. In American Fork, I visited HideAway Books more often than our new Barnes and Noble and spent more money on more books there. I visited Powell’s City of Books in Portland, Shadyside Books in Pittsburgh, and Poppy Books in Spanish Fork, among others.
Another charming bookstore, Saddle House Books, came and went on Main Street last year; I bought a book or two there while I could.
Sadly, HideAway Books just announced that they’re liquidating their stock over the next few months, then closing. American Fork, not just I, will feel the loss.
I mention bookstores because browsing the shelves isn’t just food for the soul and aerobic exercise for the pocketbook. It’s next-level algorithm eye-poking. Sure, the books are usually categorized and alphabetized, but the books you see as you wander or browse are there for anyone. They’re not algorithmically optimized for you, based on your buying habits since childhood and everything else Big Data thinks it knows about you. The same is true at local libraries.
When we roam a real bookstore or browse the library stacks, we brush against the larger world and its infinite realities. The algorithms would never think to offer all the perspectives which beckon there, all the voices of the living and the dead, waiting and wanting to go home with us.
So let’s read this year. Let’s hold books in our hands. Let’s spend some quality time in brick-and-mortar bookstores and libraries. We deserve it. We’ll be poking the algorithms in the eye. They deserve it too.
This column was originally printed in the American Fork Citizen and the Lehi Free Press. It is reprinted here with permission.
Photo credit: ChatGPT 4
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And if you’re interested in my published fiction, check out my two published collections at 60 East Press.
