TightWind is written by Kyle Baxter. Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish.

John Taylor wonders whether the Internet’s ability to make anything available at any time is reducing our appreciation for people’s work, and their creativity:

But we had no video recorders, and of course there was no YouTube. There was no way whatsoever that I could watch that appearance again, however badly I wanted to. And the power of that restriction was enormous.
The only way I could get close to that experience was to own the song. I lived in the suburbs, so I had to ride my bike for miles before I could find a store that sold music, let alone one that had the record in stock. It was a small trial of manhood and an adventure.

I know precisely the fear he has, but I have it with a slightly different implication. The sheer amount of information available, and the ease of accessing it, is reducing our ability to fully appreciate the meaning and importance of things.

Taylor had to have that album, and his struggle to get it ultimately created his life-long love for the music. Just the same, when all we have is single pieces of something that we absolutely love (whether it is news, music, movies, stories), our love for it becomes a permanent part of us because finding those things is so rare.

I remember when I first listened to the Ramones as a kid. Their unadulterated sound, so completely uninhibited, clearly came from people who knew what they wanted to do and didn’t listen to anyone telling them what they should do, or think, or how they should act. Their music spoke to me in a way nothing did before that — it said not only that you can do what you truly want to do, but it is the only real way to live.

I listened to that album as I fell asleep at night, after school, on long family trips. Some of my best memories are punctuated by that album.

The Ramones not only influenced the music I listen to, but who I am. I’m not sure the same thing would have happened without the scarcity of access that existed for me then. That album was the Ramones, and because I couldn’t read every facet of their lives and listen to every song they ever made, the mystery of it drove me from liking their music, the passing thought you have when you hear a decent song on the radio, to a love for their music, where their music became a part of me.

I fear the Internet’s abundance threatens that. When I hear about some news event, rather than think about it for days — what caused it, why would they do that, what can we do to stop it — I Google the event, read a number of news stories about it, read the Wikipedia page on anyone I’m not familiar with, and then… And then my desire to learn is sapped, and no critical thinking has happened at all. I haven’t formed a position on it, I haven’t conceptualized what happened and why, because my involvement is merely passive. I just read news articles and biographies. No true understanding is needed when all the world’s information is at your fingertips.

That’s the Internet’s ultimate irony: all the world’s information, but perhaps less real understanding.