Joy to the world, now I have more information! It’s the latest and therefore the greatest, and better than whatever knowledge came before.
Let me tell you, my information is better than yours. My information can beat up your information anytime! Everything I know is so great...
...wait, now it’s been replaced. Now there’s newer information. No! I’ll lose everything if I don’t keep up. Better dig in and keep scrolling.
In the 1980s, Elizabeth Ferrarini and others began using a term called info-mania to describe the state of being oversaturated with information, positively dripping with causes of interruption and distraction. But we must stop to appreciate the other side of the coin.
What about the state that precedes this when we aren’t overloaded and we’re eager for new knowledge?
This gets to the heart of one of our biggest daily concerns in the developed world. How much information do we take in?
Infinite scrolling is no joke, figuratively. The internet is truly infinite, as far as our attention goes. It won’t stop you from scrolling or clicking more links. It won’t stop pouring; you’ll have to say when.
This is no idle matter for software developers and user interface designers. Deciding how much information processing to do is important for anyone with an internet connection. So often the earnest desire to know devolves into a time-sucking quagmire.
Perhaps we should phrase it this way: How informed must I be? How little information can I get away with imbibing before I get info-sick?
Just because someone made it doesn’t mean I must care. Social media spurs envy as much as friendship. Reading the news all day does not make me a better citizen. My better knowledge gives me no more weight in politics or culture than anyone else. Then, why bother? Why gain greater understanding if it accomplishes nothing? Why keep scrolling?
Joy.
At least, in the beginning, when new knowledge is a delight and information tastes delicious.
Connections form, and sparks fly. The mind is nimble and quick.
There is joy to be had in the shape of words on the page and poetry in the neurons knitting together. I can feel my mind buzzing. This could be called info-joy.
This happens for good reason. Humans are built for learning; our brains evolved for social interaction and piecing puzzles together. It’s naturally pleasant.
But when the buzzing turns to swarming, and delight is engulfed by a sense of procrastination, there is the root of infomania. And here is the problem for us.
We live in an ever-evolving informational context, one in which we cannot turn off the data gusher. Things grow more complex, rarely more simple. Only two classes of people seem exempt from this: those still without internet connectivity, and those who monitor their digital dosage.
This is something for each of us to confront. We all make decisions about what to filter out and what adds meaning or value. As I try to do myself, I would urge you to make yours deliberate choices, not unconscious acceptance of a world that constantly wants to get a rise out of you. See when joy turns to mania, and stop there.