In the article, “Is Google Making Us Stupid” (The Atlantic Online, July / August 2008),
Nicholas Carr uses (at least) four authorial devices to support his thesis, that what
“the Net seems to be doing is chipping away my capacity for concentration and contemplation”
(p. 94). The four devices are: a wrap-around cultural
reference, using historical personages to support his thesis, a personal and
introspective voice, and a backpedaling of his arguments.
The wraparound cultural reference, which
serves the same purpose as the often colorful wrap-around dust jackets of a
hardback book, is from 2001: A Space Odyssey. The HAL computer of 2001 is instantly recognizable
to most Americans as symbolizing dangerous
technology that is out of control. Using
this well-known cultural reference, Mr. Carr instantly connects with his
audience, who want to know more. Like
the often lurid 1950s book jackets, he provides a hook that leads the reader
into the introduction and then (hopefully) into the meat of his arguments. He circles back to the image of the unhappy
HAL at the end of the article to make his final closing points. Using such a device, he provides a pin of
sorts to hang the article’s content in one’s mental space.
There is one important anecdote in the article, which references
the famous writer Friedrich Nietzsche, and one extended historical reference
regarding the scientist Frederick Tayor.
While interesting, they are more instructive than entertaining. The anecdote with Mr. Nietzsche refers to how
technology changes one mentally: “Our
writing equipment takes part of the forming of our thoughts” (p. 96) says Mr.
Nietzsche. Mr. Taylor was what we might
call an efficiency expert today, and his methods are very much the methods that
drive modern American businesses today. Mr. Carr extrapolates those cold business
systems into the intricacies of the modern internet: “Taylor’s ethic is beginning
to govern the realm of the mind as well” (p. 98), he says. Using historical figures with easily understandable stories, Mr. Carr adds both historical
weight to his article, as well as more pegs to hang his arguments from.
Mr. Carr’s article is very personal: he has a problem: his
mental resources are being sapped, and he is seeking to understand how and why.
His use of the first person pronoun, far from distracting the reader, allows
her to identity with him. His tone is very
conversational, friendly, and personable: “Maybe I’m just a worrywart” he says
on page 99, as if he were talking to the reader as a friend, and sounding all
the world like a favorite old uncle wondering if a simple cough is turning into something more dangerous. This personal tone allows the reader to
connect with the author in ways an analytical text would not, to think more
deeply about what he is saying, and to wonder if his problem is not her problem
as well.
On page 99, Mr. Carr begins to backpedal, saying on the
next page that “you should be skeptical of my skepticism”. But then he backpedals again, and goes back to
his original arguments: “but then again, the net isn’t the alphabet…” (p. 100).
“I could be wrong”, he’s saying in
essence, “but I don’t think so”. This
leads into his eloquent ending, in which he returns to HAL. His reversal, and his rapid reversal of his reversal,
gives space for those who think he is incorrect to reconsider their own
thinking on the matter.
Mr. Carr article is a far-reaching and very introspective
piece on the possible dangers of the Internet that gives one much pause for thought. It is somewhat ironic that it was posted
where? On the Atlantic (wait for it…) Online.
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