The Weekly Wrap: July 20-26

person holding brown paper bag
Photo by cottonbro studio on Pexels.com

The Weekly Wrap: July 20-26

Reading While Retired

I received a number of unexpected responses when I asked people how they found more time to read in a recent Facebook page post. One of the top responses was “retirement.”

That makes sense when you think about it. Work and work-related activities take a huge chunk out of our days. I retired last fall, and I read more. I enjoy getting a second cup of coffee and leisurely reading rather than logging onto a Zoom call or heading out for a meeting. And we’ve all heard how reading can keep us cognitively sharp!

This made me wonder if booksellers and publishers have “retirees” on their radar. I don’t see that in most of the newsletters I read. Not only do we have more time to read. We also have more time to shop for books!

My hunch is that most are less interested in the trendy than writers who tell a good story or help them make sense of their lives and our changing society. But I have not studied this systematically. Google’s AI tells me:

“Retirees’ reading interests are quite diverse, often including historical fiction, mysteries, classics, and books that explore themes of aging, relationships, and personal growth. They also enjoy literature that sparks conversation and engagement, like those often selected for book clubs.”

That tracks with my impressions. And I’m left wondering whether this is an untapped, or at least, unheeded market.

Five Articles Worth Reading

Among the classics of literature are books written in languages other than English. In “A Question of Purpose,” Gary Saul Morson considers the challenge of translating Russian works and argues that the most important factor is the purpose of the translation. He also contends that some of the recent well-received translations “are a disaster.”

I’ve seen recent ads featuring a star basketball “reading” but in reality playing a videogame. But there are athletes who read. “‘Literature has completely changed my life’: footballer Héctor Bellerín’s reading list” chronicles the soccer player’s impressive reading habits. But speaking of translations, he needed to read Emily Brontë’s Wuthering Heights in Spanish. Frankly, I’m impressed with someone reading that in any language.

Universities have been in crisis in recent years. This precedes the most recent administration’s attacks, which I believe are only worsening the situation. “Eight Books That Explain the University Crisis” is a helpful list to understand what has been happening in higher education over the last fifty years. While universities can’t do everything, they are a cultural “pillar” that must not be lost but strengthened and renewed.

You might have accessed this blog on social media. But for some people, social media occupies an outsized and unhealthy space in their lives. “Living a Life of Appstinence” is a conversation with Gabriela Nguyen about the Appstinence collective she leads and her 5D Method for getting off social media.

Finally, many of us know of bookstores for which one of their most endearing qualities is the bookstore cat or dog. Elizabeth Egan embarked on a cross-country journey to chronicle this phenomenon. In her photo-rich essay, “More Purring, More Buying? Why Bookstores Showcase Their Pets,” we learn the pets go far beyond just cats and dogs!

Quote of the Week

Poet Robert Graves was born on July 24, 1895. He commented:

“There’s no money in poetry, but then there’s no poetry in money, either.”

Some contemporary poets have confirmed the truth of his observation!

Miscellaneous Musings

Book clubs are perennially popular ways for gathering people. In recent years, various kinds of reading parties have gathered folks. Bookriot featured an article yesterday on “Everything You Need for a Reading Picnic.” With our torrid summers, I wonder whether spring or fall are better seasons to try this idea.

Well, I’ve taken the plunge–not into a pool–but into Ron Chernow’s Mark Twain. I’m a hundred pages in with over 900 to go. Like everything else I’ve read of Chernow’s, it’s an engrossing read. Look for my review of it in about a month!

An article by Danika Ellis caught my eye yesterday. “All 50 of the Most Read Books on Goodreads This Week are by White Authors” wonders why more people aren’t reading works by people of color. I would agree with her that there are some incredible writers. But for those of us who are white, it means some intentional effort to learn about them–but one I’ve found well worth the effort.

Next Week’s Reviews

Monday: Frank Thielman, Paul: Apostle of Grace

Tuesday: Hans Madueme, Does Science Make God Irrelevant

Wednesday: Carlos Eire, The Life of Saint Teresa of Avila

Thursday: Sandra L. Richter, Abigail and the Waterfall (a children’s book!)

Friday: The Month in Reviews: July 2025

So, that’s The Weekly Wrap for July 20-26!

Find past editions of The Weekly Wrap under The Weekly Wrap heading on this page

Review: The Anxious Generation

Cover image for "The Anxious Generation" by Jonathan Haidt.

The Anxious Generation, Jonathan Haidt. Penguin Press (ISBN: 9780593655030), 2024.

Summary: Explores the connections between the decline in independent play in childhood, the advent of smartphones, and the sharp rise in anxiety and depression, among adolescents and young adults.

Everyone in higher education is talking about the mental health crisis, particularly the incidence of anxiety and depression among adolescents and young adults. Counseling centers on every campus are slammed with the demand. But why is this? Some trace it to COVID and the experience of isolation these youth went through. But in fact, COVID only accelerated a trend mental health professionals were seeing for the past decade.

Jonathan Haidt believes this may be traced to a shift from a play-based to a phone-based childhood, a transition that coincides with the rise in incidence in anxiety and depression. He contends that children have been over-protected in the world of embodied, independent play and under-protected in the disembodied, virtual world that they are connected to by the devices in their pockets.

In the first part of the book, Haidt offers a number of of graphs, all showing sharp increases during the 2010’s in the incidence of various mental health issues. What is most striking is that this is true for all Western nations and not just the United States–it’s not just American cultural factors. It is striking that girls have been hit the hardest, but boys have also shown increases in all of these indicators.

Part Two explorers the decline of the play-based childhood going back to the 1990’s, reflecting parental fearfulness and overprotection. Free play, not controlled by adults, is crucial for the development of social skills and attunement to others. Children become more resilient and antifragile with play in which there is an element of risk and where parents don’t immediately swoop in and rescue (unless there are actual injuries requiring attention). This makes children more inclined to operate in “discover” rather than “defend” mode and for children learning to care for themselves and assess risks. We’ve also eliminated rites of passage that build a ladder from childhood through puberty to adulthood. Haidt offers guidelines for age appropriate steps, including when (not until high school) children have smartphones. The advent of smartphones accelerated this decline, replacing embodied play with the unprotected virtual world online.

In Part Three, Haidt outlines the harms phone-based childhoods cause. He notes four foundational harms to both boys and girls: social deprivation, sleep deprivation, attention fragmentation, and addiction. He then discusses the harms to girls, which are greater, as well as the harms to boys, Haidt shows the experimental evidence for how social media harms girls: visual media results in invidious physical comparisons, promotes aggression against other girls, promotes sharing of emotions resulting in “sociogenic” illness, and exposes girls to male predators urging sexting and other dangerous activities. Boys engage differently, engaging more with online porn and multi-player online games. While there are some positive aspects of the latter, Haidt traces the “failure to launch,” including problems of forming healthy relationships with real-life partners. Finally, Haidt explores how phones pull us downward in the spiritual or “elevation” aspect of our life, and suggests six practices, secular spiritual disciples as it were, to recover what we’ve lost.

The last part of the book explores what government and industry, what schools, and what parents can do. He advocates for four foundational reforms:

  1. No smartphones before high school, giving children only basic flip phones before then (up to about age 14).
  2. No social media before age 16, including more stringent age verification standards on social media platforms.
  3. Phone-free schools, where phones, smartwatches, and other devices are stored in phone lockers, to free up students attention.
  4. Far more unsupervised play and childhood independence.

Haidt draws on the work of Lenore Skenazy, who wrote Free Range Kids for his guidance to parents about unsupervised play and independence. He commends the work of Let Grow, an organization Skenazy has served as president. He notes how working with other parents and needing to be aware of state laws (and in some cases, working to change them), around child supervision is important. A child exercising responsible independence can look like a neglected child in some eyes. I would have liked to see Haidt address more the real-world dangers that did not exist or were very rare in our childhoods and how parents address these while not lapsing into over-protection, as well as addressing the particular risks girls and women face.

I know smartphones have rewired my brain and have snared me with their addictive power. I’ve had to make decisions regarding my own use of them. What Haidt proposes seems both scientifically demonstrable and just plain common sense. Talking with mental health professionals, it is just not feasible from workforce or insurance factors, to significantly expand their services. Haidt proposes that we tackle the problem at its roots in our shift from play-based to phone-based childhoods. This will take concerted action on the part of parents, schools, and governments acting together, but actually seem relatively low cost by comparison. It just takes shared recognition of the problem and concerted action (and maybe resistance to the social media lobby claiming the safety of its products). In the end, we will all be the better for it.

Review: The Chaos Machine

The Chaos Machine, Max Fisher. New York: Little, Brown, and Company, 2022.

Summary: A deep dive into how social media has rewired our minds and fueled social divisions.

If the events of the past years have not already done so, this book should give you pause about any of the social media platforms you use regularly. It did so for me.

Max Fisher looks at phenomena as diverse as the genocide of the Rohingya in Myanmar, the growth of anti-vaccine movements, and the political discord of our recent elections. He shows how these are not simply the result of zealots posting what is often false information or incendiary statements. Rather, he argues that there is something baked into our social media that turns these into potent movements that in some instances have led to the loss of life and the deception of many.

The issue is engagement. If all the things posted on any platform, Facebook, Twitter, YouTube, or Reddit, were given equal weight, the postings of zealots, social media influencers, and bad actors from other countries would still have minimal effect–getting lost in the mass of material posted every day. What makes it different is that each of these platforms and others, in the pursuit of advertising dollars, where they make their money, promote the material that gets the most engagement through the algorithms that determine what we see when we visit one of these sites. Those algorithms are tailored to our interests and show us more of what we’ve viewed, liked, and clicked on.

But there is more. These platforms use recommendation engines that show you other content that is related to your interests, content that is getting a lot of engagement. And often this is inflammatory, engendering fear or anger. And this can lead people into groups that share that anger, that disengagement with society, and down a rabbit hole, away from family and friends in the real world.

What is chilling is Fisher’s account of the indifference of these platforms, even when their internal research calls attention to the effect of their algorithms. Often, government authorities, seeking to stop the spread of misinformation, find it impossible to even get a response from these platforms–unless they pull the plug on these platforms’ access to their countries. But in many countries, these platforms serve as the primary source of information for their people. Hence, the reluctance to take this step.

I found this a deeply disturbing trend. And in the light of the recent takeover of Twitter and the financial struggles of Meta, the parent company of Facebook, I think the chaos Fisher chronicles could easily increase–unless. Unless we educate ourselves about how these platforms work, how they show us content (or not), and make decisions of how we will engage them without being manipulated by them. But this is a big ask. All I know is that I am asking myself hard questions about how I will engage these platforms going forward–or whether I will continue to do so.

____________________

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary review copy of this book from the publisher.

Ethics For Algorithms

Photo by Antonio Batiniu0107 on Pexels.com

You are probably aware that the material that shows up in your newsfeed on Facebook or Twitter is only a fraction of what your friends and connections are posting, and some of it is sponsored content tailored for you. Have you every wondered why you are seeing what you are seeing? Algorithms (and a lot of data collected about you).

A similar kind of thing happens when you search on Google. I am surprised how often it works well and I find exactly what I’m looking for. But sometimes it goes sideways. Why for example, when Dylann Roof searched Google, following up a search on Trayvon Martin with a search on “black on white crime” did the top search choices come up as white supremacist organizations? Algorithms.

Why, when I search for a book on Amazon, do I receive a number of recommendations of books in the form of “because you looked at this, you might like this”? I have similar things occur at Barnes & Noble or at Thriftbooks. Why? Algorithms.

One definition of an algorithm I found is: “a process or set of rules to be followed in calculations or other problem-solving operations, especially by a computer.” Actually, algorithms are not some arcane mathematical art. They may be as simple as the process we use to solve a long division problem or the process we use in doing our laundry.

What is happening with all these algorithms is that somebody, an individual or group, has established a set of rules to determine what you see. What much of the world became aware of when Frances Haugen appeared on 60 Minutes this past Sunday night is that the ethic behind these rules that form the algorithms is very important. Haugen alleged, producing massive documentation, that Facebook has consistently chosen profit over safety on its various platforms. For one thing, it selected content that fostered anger on its newsfeeds despite the fact that it often spread misinformation and fostered division simply because this kept people on the platform longer, which was where the money is. Another prime example is the impact that it was aware of Instagram having on teenage girls. Not only do glamorous images feed body-shame, but they discovered that the shame and depression keeps girls on the platform in an emotionally destructive spiral. They knew this and did nothing to change their algorithms of what these girls saw.

Computer-based algorithms are widely used for everything from fantasy baseball to mortgage application processing to screening resumes to your FICO score. People are not directly making decisions about what we see online or about our finances or career aspirations. Machines are making the decisions, using the rules programmers establish in the code.

There are at least a few key ethical considerations that rise to the top, highlighted in Cathy O’Neill’s, Weapons of Math Destruction:

  1. How opaque or transparent are the rules used in the algorithm? Most of the time, the algorithms are highly opaque and we know that we’ve been affected but we don’t know why. Because of this, questions of fairness often arise–how do factors of race, gender, age, etc. get factored in?
  2. What is the scale of impact of the algorithm? FICO scores affect credit, auto insurance costs, getting hired or promoted, and being able to rent an apartment or buy a house. How will this algorithm be used in the marketplace and what protects individuals from wrongful harm?
  3. What is the damage this could cause? Where possible, this should be considered proactively. For example, on social media, under what conditions is more engagement harmful to persons or the broader social context?

This is not easily done, particularly because algorithms serve beneficial purposes as well as cause harm. At very least, identifying the real instances of unfairness and harm and eliminating these, or better, anticipating them, seems a place to start. What is most egregious about the content of Frances Haugen’s testimony was that internal studies were showing known harms from platform algorithms that were not addressed because of profit considerations. We should never use complicated ethical questions to forestall dealing with the clear-cut ones. Let’s begin here.

Things That Bring Joy to a Page Admin

Photo by Andrea Piacquadio on Pexels.com

Most of the people I know who are group or page admins on Facebook have thoughts about giving it up. I do. It’s not easy, and more people can mean more problems. Spam posts, comments, and messages. People who openly defy page or group rules. Deciding when to shut down a thread that is going sideways. Banning people. I know. I’ve curated a book page for three years that has grown to a community of 35,000.

The headaches are well known. There is another side–the things that make it worth it. I thought I would share a few of those. Online spaces can be good spaces when we work together to make that happen. Here are some of the things that bring joy:

  1. Knowing that the page has made at least a bit of a difference in someone’s life. It was heartening when someone jotted a note saying that our page was one of the things that was helping them get through the pandemic.
  2. I love when I see people helping each other out. They share enough about a book and what they love that another person finds the next book they want to read.
  3. It gives me joy when I see people trying to learn from their disagreements, asking questions rather than flinging arguments past each other.
  4. It is a delight when people from different cultures share books and ideas that may be new to others of us. I’m glad when others take note and affirm them.
  5. I like it when people can have fun with something that is fun and not feel they have to pontificate or disagree.
  6. I enjoy reading threads where no one feels the need to leave comments like, “I never read anything by Steinbeck, in fact I really don’t like to read, but just thought I ought to say something.”
  7. It’s fun when someone adds an article or quote or even thought that is totally on point and enlarges the discussion.
  8. I like it when people on the page invite their book-loving friends to join the fun. It is encouraging when people think our page is a good enough place that they aren’t embarrassed to share it with their friends.
  9. My heart is touched when someone shares about hard things they are going through and others care without trying to “fix’ them.
  10. I’m grateful for a day when I haven’t had to delete spam comments or messages or ban anybody. But I’m glad to keep our growing “neighborhood” a good and safe place.

None of this is about numbers or platforms or making money. It is about shared conversation around a shared interest–in my case, books. I’ve learned about new authors and read some of them. Most of all, it has been a rich community of very different people–not perfect but pretty good (do we ever get better than that, at least this side of eternity?). While I created and admin the page, I like to call it “ours” because the others who are part of the community help make it what it is. Despite the hassles, I’d say this, and pages or groups like it, are some of the best things on Facebook. And when you find one, be sure to thank the admin who works to make that happen. When people do that, it makes my day.

Review: Posting Peace

Posting Peace: Why Social Media Divides Us and What We Can Do About It, Douglas S. Bursch. Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 2021.

Summary: A discussion of the nature of online media, why it divides us, and how Christians can have a reconciling and redemptive presence.

I’m not sure if social media platforms were ever idyllic places, although my son tells me that it was a lot better before my generation got on Facebook and Twitter. In recent years I’ve seen both the delightful and disturbing parts of this media. On the delightful side, I host a book page with over 10,000 followers with fascinating discussions around books and the bookish life of bibliophiles. Then there are mean-spirited and outright false postings, sometimes in repeated comments that, in one instance, led to blocking someone I considered a good friend. I felt I was being used rather than engaged and that what I did was right but I am still disturbed about it, five months later.

Douglas S. Bursch saw plenty of angry in talk radio, where he worked as a host, trying to elevate the show to thoughtful discussion. He explores the peculiar nature of online media, its “always on” nature and how easy it is to post half-formed, often emotional responses to those we don’t even know. We may have thousands of connections and yet feel strangely anonymous, even as are those on our friends list. He calls this “networked individualism” where we are loosely connected to many people but deeply tied to few. Many really exist to meet some need of ours, and when they don’t, they are dispensable. We become numb to relationships. Part of what encourages this is that the media fosters “disincarnate communication.” We show what we want others to see as do they in curated versions of who we really are. Furthermore, social media facilitates a tribal mentality both through our willed choices of who to like and follow and the algorithms that track our behavior and show us who and what we want to see and read. Often, our own tribe has no motive to resolve conflict–we so affirm each other, and those on the outside, in the security of their tribe, are so odious that why bother. Unlike a real world situation where we do have to live with different people, we don’t on social media, and sadly learn ways of relating that translate into the real world as well.

Bursch, a middle child (like me) describes the theme of peacemaking and reconciliation in his life that came to fullest fruit in coming to faith in Christ who reconciled him to God and others. He presses out the implications of this for the online behavior of those who count themselves Christ-followers. He argues that bringing people closer to God and one another ought be a way of life online (and in real life). He proposes five questions that ought to be part of our peacemaking plan:

  1. Is reconciliation my motivation?
  2. Are people my priority?
  3. Am I communicating truth with love?
  4. Where is the grace?
  5. What is the Spirit saying?

He even presses this out into the unpleasant encounters we have with internet trolls, who he reminds us are actually people (unless they are bots).

He also addresses something I’ve always wrestled with as a peacemaking middle child. There are some things we cannot make peace with. Deliberate falsehoods. Racism. Sexual predation. Unjust systems. One of the constructive things he commends is the platforming of the marginalized, particularly by those of us who are socially dominant. It may be that instead of spouting our own ideas, we invite the ideas of those pushed to the margins.

Bursch believes in the power of posting peace. He describes a woman by the name of Freedalyn who, when COVID broke out, went silent, until some discovered she used libraries for internet access. Many had been concerned because they had experienced her quiet, caring presence online. He concludes the book with ways we might make room for the Lord in our online engagement.

At the end of each chapter, Bursch provides questions for reflection and exercises that include the assignment to post online with the hashtag #PostingPeace. The combination of a theology of reconciliation with concrete practices that runs through this book offers the chance of helping us more intentionally and charitably engage online. It has been of growing concern to me that there are no winners in the divisive discourse we see and sometimes join online. Furthermore, when Christians join in such discourse, we turn many against Christ. The warning of Matthew 18:16 haunts me and I don’t want to go swimming with a millstone around my neck! Douglas Bursch not only helps us understand the challenges of online media but offers hope that we can pursue a better way that makes a difference.

____________________________

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary review copy of this book from the publisher in exchange for an honest review. The opinions I have expressed are my own.