Contra Hanania: Why Reading Books is Good, Actually
A defence of inefficiency
Richard Hanania recently argued that (most) books aren’t worth reading:
Ideally, one would like to think that if someone has written a 300-page book, it means that they have 300 pages worth of things to say. My experience is that is rarely the case. People generally have an idea that can be expressed in terms much shorter than that, but extending your idea into a book looks impressive on a CV and gets you invited on TV shows and podcasts.
He goes on to suggest that these ideas could be more effectively communicated via Tweets or short Substack posts, and from a certain perspective, this is true. We only have so much time in life to read, and if efficiency is the goal, Twitter is the better option. But how many Tweets do you actually remember?
My issue with Hanania’s post is that it mistakes the purpose of reading books. Book reading isn’t about efficiency or collecting facts; it’s about recollection and understanding. Most ideas can be easily expressed in a single Substack post, but these ideas are then just as easily forgotten. When reading a book, you’ll usually encounter the same idea again and again, and over multiple sittings (which could span several days or weeks). This is crucial for proper storage of information into long-term memory, a process which cognitive scientists call spaced repetition. If we don’t encounter a fact or idea repeatedly, we’re likely to forget it.
To this you might respond: why not just re-read the blog post? Books also have another benefit. By elaborating on an idea, by showing how it fits alongside other ideas and the wider context of the world around us, books can strengthen our understanding and recall of that idea. Cognitive scientists refer to this as elaborative encoding, whereby new information is stored by linking it to previous memories and knowledge. A single fact in isolation is meaningless, and therefore forgettable; by linking it to our relationships, work, politics, or other interests, an author can make their idea more relevant to our lives, and thus more worthy of remembering. Simply re-reading the same essay doesn’t offer this benefit.
I agree with Hanania that not all books are worth reading, and I certainly have my own preferences when it comes to length (anything over 350 pages is pushing it). But the humble book has been around in some form for millennia—perhaps we shouldn’t be so quick to dismiss it.
From Seneca:
“The primary indication, to my thinking, of a well-ordered mind is a man’s ability to remain in one place and linger in his own company. Be careful, however, lest this reading of many authors and books of every sort may tend to make you discursive and unsteady. You must linger among a limited number of master-thinkers, and digest their works, if you would derive ideas which shall win firm hold in your mind. Everywhere means nowhere. When a person spends all his time in foreign travel, he ends by having many acquaintances, but no friends. And the same thing must hold true of men who seek intimate acquaintance with no single author, but visit them all in a hasty and hurried manner. Food does no good and is not assimilated into the body if it leaves the stomach as soon as it is eaten; nothing hinders a cure so much as frequent change of medicine; no wound will heal when one salve is tried after another; a plant which is often moved can never grow strong. There is nothing so efficacious that it can be helpful while it is being shifted about. And in reading of many books is distraction. […] Each day acquire something that will fortify you against poverty, against death, indeed against other misfortunes as well; and after you have run over many thoughts, select one to be thoroughly digested that day. This is my own custom; from the many things which I have read, I claim some one part for myself.”
Read books, read a few books, read a few books deeply.
Most worthwhile theses in larger areas may necessitate an entire book to demonstrate, reaffirm and prove, rather than a singular Substack post.