The Information Diet

10 bitesized thoughts about avoiding intellectual bloat

1. Eating Information

I don't know if food is the right metaphor for an information diet. We can 'devour' a 150-page novel in an afternoon and feel refreshed, however spending the same amount of time devouring food would leave you bloated. It is, though, the best metaphor I have found. Food is so central to human existence that things like reading that have arrived relatively late in our evolutionary history must submit. We can swallow toxic information and become queasy. We can consume spicy takes and get inflamed. We can suck on an aphorism as if it were a cough sweet and feel clarity.

2. The Information Pyramid

The Food Pyramid is a (now discredited) guide to ensuring one is nourished. What would the equivalent pyramid look like for an information diet? Whereas the food pyramid uses satiety to structure what goes on your plate, an information diet wouldn't quite work the same way, especially with the infinite buffet of the internet. You used to be able to read your daily newspaper and feel like you knew what was going on, but in the age of the hyperlink, there is no beginning or end. The limiting factor is time. You only have so many hours in a day and have to determine what is a good use of your time.

3. Information Overload

Last month, Substack introduced a Twitter clone called Notes. This, for me, was the straw that broke the camel's back or, to continue the food metaphor, it was the mint that caused Mr Creosote to explode. On the Substack app, they had a little orange dot signalling that I had unread Notes. These dots, often showing how many notifications the user has, are an addictive design pattern. It is like a debt I had to pay, an obligation that compelled me to check what's new. It was too much. I couldn't take another input and declared information bankruptcy. I deleted the app and unsubscribed from most newsletters.

4. Carnivores and herbivores

Is your information diet more like that of a carnivore or a herbivore? Herbivores graze constantly, checking in to see if something is happening or whenever they get notified. Carnivores, on the other hand, spend about an hour a day chasing down prey and then laze around in the sun. The lion has its moment of intensity whereas the antelope is skittish, fearful, and has to spend all day nibbling and ruminating. Jonathan Franzen was so distracted by the internet that he destroyed the network connection in his laptop. He would wear earplugs and an eye mask to touchtype his novels without being interrupted by network temptations. William Gibson was asked if he did something similar and replied that he did the opposite: he writes his novels with his browser window beneath Microsoft Word, with the river of Twitter as his constant companion.

5. Intentionality

Social media is designed to consume as much of your time as possible. The more time you spend scrolling and tapping, the more eyeballs they can claim to have reached advertisers. I prefer the idea of using social media intentionally. In my dream scenario, I limit myself to half an hour of intense posting, replying, engaging, linking, and saving for later, and then stop for the day. Thirty minutes doesn't sound a lot, but it soon adds up. It's three and a half hours a week. 322 hours a year. Twenty days of your waking life a year! Is this important enough to spend days of life on? Wouldn’t you be better off dancing or listening to music or doing any other activities that feel good?

6. Time Preference

Time preference is a term to describe the amount of weight you place on future outcomes. Impulsive people have a low time preference and want immediate gratification. The opposite is people whose long-term goals determine their decisions. With social media, it is easy to say "fuck it, it's just one check-in, what’s the harm?" But before you know it a few grains of sand have become a massive obstacle in your path.

7. Ruined by reading

Apart from aspiring towards thirty minutes of usage a day, my main rule is that I try not to check social media until noon. If you want to get into a state of flow, if you want to get any deep work done, you can't have your attention scattered in a thousand directions by social media. There was a time in the past when I would check my phone first thing after waking ... well, I say the past, it was actually yesterday. It's a buzz to get a nice message, but you're just a few taps away from the latest toxic discourse from the culture wars. Twitter can make people apoplectic in minutes, which leaves them in a terrible mindspace to do work. Indeed, Nietzsche thought any reading in the morning left one incapable of thinking:

The scholar — a decadent — I have seen it with my own eyes: natures that are gifted, rich, and disposed to be free, already 'ruined by reading' in their thirties, just matches that have to be struck to emit sparks — 'thoughts'. Early in the morning, at the break of day, when everything is fresh, in the dawn of your strength, to read a book — that is what I call depraved!

8. Expectational doubt

Being on social media is good training for having no expectations or attachments to an outcome. One doesn't know if something will go viral or sink without a trace. I post things because I want that thought out in the universe. My current posting model is Paul Schrader, the legendary screenwriter and director, who writes random updates on Facebook about whatever is on his mind. What he doesn't do is just promote projects or share press clippings about himself. He doesn't write to foment a culture war. He doesn't post memes only understood by the terminally online. He has a thought and posts it.

9. Dunbar’s Number Respecter

I strongly advocate being a Dunbar's Number respecter online, which is to acknowledge that you can only have meaningful relationships with around 150-250 people at a time. You should be careful how these relationships are curated. Whenever I see someone who follows several thousand people, I just assume that they really don't care about reading what people have to say. They might check in occasionally but only do so to get a whiff of the zeitgeist. Most of the people I unfollow are simply because they post too much or it is too depressing. I get it: things are bad. Making me feel bad all the time isn't going to make things better.

10. Submitting to Moloch

Last week's bumper edition of the blog linked to twelve interviews I conducted in the noughties, amounting to tens of thousands of words. I had no expectation that any of my readers would devour them all but wanted to make them available to that omniscient reader: Google, the great Moloch that consumes everything you throw at it and who allows us the fantasy that we can access the right information at the right time. So what does your information diet look like? Do you feel overwhelmed? Are you being nourished?