The age of short attention and shorter vision

I turned into a writer late in my life. I realised that writing and publishing a book were the easier parts of the journey. It was difficult to get readers. I made new friends who were also struggling with the same issues. We all bemoaned the fact that the young were losing interest in reading. I was asked by my literary agent to trim my manuscript by almost 20,000 words. Her candid observation was that attention spans were coming down. Nobody had the patience to read through even a 200-page book. It was a rude awakening.

Reflecting on earlier experiences, I realised that this was not just about books or readers, but about a broader shrinking of patience, attention and long-term vision. I would encounter the same impatience in a completely different setting. I quit my government job to work in the private sector, where I spent five years. Within the first few days of my joining, I was asked to prepare a presentation about my vision regarding business growth in the short, medium and long term. Not quite familiar with the workings of the private sector, I went back with the presentation to my senior colleague. My horizon was three, five and ten years. I was asked to modify it, since the definitions of the short, medium and long term had by then changed to one, two and three years respectively. This compression of timelines was not limited to workplaces; it was visible even in community life.

Something similar is happening in the community as well. I was instrumental in our Residents’ Welfare Association signing an agreement with an agency providing services to the seniors in the complex. I believed, and still believe, that nuclear families are here to stay, at least for a long time, and that elders would need such services as they grow older. It required us to provide office space to their staff. The move was vehemently objected to by a few seniors on the grounds that the space would be better used for setting up a place of worship. Another friend and neighbour recently remarked that people today do not have vision. The pattern seemed even more pronounced when one looked beyond everyday life.

A friend of my daughter was sitting next to me on a recent flight. He noted that we are no longer encouraging inventions in the pure sciences. Our research is increasingly focused on applied sciences, which make lives more comfortable or enrich people at a faster pace. Nobody seems to have the patience to carry out research on a subject that may be time-consuming. All these observations may have some merit. There is a subtle change in our thinking. It is something that we are seeing in all walks of life. The Howrah Bridge continues to function perfectly more than 100 years after it was built. Several institutions were built post-independence to provide better education and job opportunities. The leaders probably thought beyond their lifetime. There was probably an urge to leave a legacy.

As we have progressed, we have continued to shift. Personal interests, often driven by immediate gains, have begun to overshadow the well-being of the next generation. Somewhere along the way, the horizon has begun to shrink. The urge to build for a century has given way to the need to deliver by the quarter. Whether this shift is inevitable — or reversible — is a question worth asking.

The writer is a founder of Kala - Krazy About Literature And Arts, is an author, speaker, coach, arbitrator, and strategy consultant; views are personal