Brain Rot: An Unfortunate Word of the Year

The 2024 Oxford Word of the Year is “brain rot.” It is defined as “the supposed deterioration of a person’s mental or intellectual state, especially viewed as the result of overconsumption of material (now particularly online content) considered to be trivial or unchallenging. Also: something characterized as likely to lead to such deterioration.” Although this term is meant as a humorous commentary on excessive technology use and hints at its potential harms, the definition itself is incorrect—or at best, incomplete. Brain rot is not just “supposed,” it’s real, and it’s harmful, especially for minors whose brains are still developing. 

Several studies have shown that certain kinds of technology use negatively affect the brain, particularly in minors. One study found that frequent use of mobile devices “may displace their opportunities for learning emotion-regulation strategies over time,” meaning that kids do not develop healthy ways to deal with stress and adversity. Another found that children who spend too much time on screens have less white matter in their brains and perform worse on cognitive testing. Yet another found that Internet addiction literally changes the brain’s structure and can lead to “chronic dysfunction.” Excessive tech usage does more than waste a few hours or reduce time spent in real-world interactions. It can alter the brain in ways that lead to long-term decreases in productivity and social skills. 

Countering brain rot is a serious challenge. Since the pandemic, the time minors spend on screens has skyrocketed, with teens now spending over 8.5 hours per day on them, and tweens at over 5.5 hours. With one study finding that difficulty making friends, lower curiosity, and other psychological issues are correlated with just four hours of screen use, it seems highly probable that excessive screen time is exacerbating the mental health crisis. Given high anxiety levels and the difficulty many young people have forming meaningful real-world relationships, parents, schools, and policymakers should actively be thinking about ways to give kids more opportunities to socialize without screens. 

While public policy can be a ham-fisted way to solve social or cultural challenges, getting phones out of school is one solution that appears to have real promise. It has garnered bipartisan support and the early returns indicate both academic and social benefits. At Illing Middle School in Connecticut, which banned phones last December, students report having to “just find conversation” and “figure it out.” Brain rot is real, but it does not have to become normalized, and it can be beaten when space is created for offline conversation to flourish. 

While schools can and should take certain actions to limit screens, parents will ultimately be the most important fighters in the war on brain rot. While different families will use different methods, and certain kids handle screens better than others, there are a few broad principles parents can use to find success. Delaying the age at which a child gets their first smartphone and then limiting how much time they spend on it is a great first step, as is really learning how to use parental control tools. But kids are often tech-savvy and parental controls are not foolproof. If kids are bored all day, they will find ways to entertain themselves, often through screens. 

Ultimately, beating brain rot requires giving young people meaningful real-world interactions. This can be through religious organizations, sports, the arts, or (especially for younger kids) unstructured play time outside with peers. Taking screens away is only effective if a satisfying alternative is offered. Given the prevalence of the virtual world, community building requires more intentionality than ever, but the payoff is worth it. Let’s beat brain rot, together. 

Education by Numbers

 

The human soul is inimitable; Artificial Intelligence, while wildly impressive, will always fall short.

We individual beings are idiosyncratic in a way that is incomputable to machines. 

Many, however, fail to appreciate this indisputable fact and look at humans, not as God's inexplicable creations, but as product-maximizing homo-economici: faceless units whose value is measured by their outputs.  

Schools, in particular, are overly output-driven.

In an article for First Things, S. A. Dance writes that education is "a spiritual pursuit." The spirit is not quantifiable, but rather, something that is cultivated through leisure.

Leisure, Dance recognizes, has become something of a pejorative. Today, leisureliness is seen as indolence. 

Dance and others, however, see leisure as a meditative and reflective practice. A school's goal, he writes, ought to be to "refine our capacities to think rationally, contemplate reality, appreciate beauty, and feel gratitude." 

Modern education, however, prioritizes "standards-based learning," neglecting the nourishment of one's "interior life" in the process. 

Since we have supplanted spiritual education with standards-based education, we have, in effect, sanitized learning of its humanity. In comes AI.

At this point, everyone knows how powerful a tool ChatGPT has become: all you have to do is input a few basic prompts relating to any given subject, and it will spit out a full-length article or essay. 

Dance argues that this technology has only become a threat because we, through our political-economization of academia, have let it:

The interior life is qualitative in nature; however, schools deal exclusively with the quantitative. This category error explains the intuitive revulsion most teachers feel about issuing grades and administering standardized tests. The bureaucracy demands numbers, and so we beat numbers out of our students to appease it.

People, though, cannot be reduced to numbers. To do so is cold and, I would argue, inhumane. 

Education, especially the liberal arts, must be a humanizing endeavor, one that AI could never compete with.

Disrupting Isolation

 


Breaking old habits is hard.  

I say that because most of us city-dwellers are in the nasty habit of insulating ourselves from our neighbors and communities. As I wrote for National Review a few months ago, "When we walk down the street, we turn off our peripheral vision and focus only on the destination, never the journey."

We have become overly-utilitarian, socially-averse and stuck in rigid routines. 

I always feel the need to admit: I, too, have insulated myself. I could be far more involved in my community. I could learn more of my neighbor's names. I need to do better. We all do. 

Some, recognizing that a life of atomization and loneliness is fundamentally unhealthy, have taken the plunge into community engagement. 

In Front Porch Republic, Dennis Uhlman writes about a chili cook-off that he spearheaded in his new South Carolina neighborhood.

From the article:

By late afternoon, to my surprise, a steady stream of neighbors started to show up. Some of the families had young children like us, others were older couples and single people who seemed excited to meet the people that lived around them... For a couple of hours, our driveway was the center of activity as people tried each other’s chili, connected over small talk, and earnestly asked if we could do more events like this in the future. It was a great and surprising day, and I hope it is a precursor to more community being built in the future.

This was a valiant move by Dennis. Many of the people he encountered when advertising the cook-off were perplexed by his neighborliness and unusual hospitality. He writes that, while handing out flyers, "the resistance against disrupting isolation was palpable." 

We are cocooned by our isolation. Dennis, chili in hand, rejected that.  

Let's all try to be more like Dennis. 


Why I Support a No-Recline Policy on Airplanes

 

We are not wholly-individualized beings living in our own orbit; our actions can have negative externalities for those around us. 

In a new survey conducted by The Harris Poll, a shocking 41% of Americans said that they supported a ban on reclining seats on airplanes. 

I am, proudly, one of the 41%. 

Seat-reclination does not happen in a vacuum. It was, in fact, Kamala Harris who in 2023 remarked that "None of us just live in a silo. Everything is in context." 

(Read my post about "coconut-conservatism" here.)

So, being that we live in a context and are not, as Amitai Etzioni would say, "individual, free-standing agents," why do we care so little for our fellow travelers? 

I, being a 6 ft 3 in male, have a special disdain for airplane seat reclination. It is already a tight squeeze in there; to have the person in front of you recline their seat can make sitting comfortably nearly impossible. 

I recall one particularly awful flight from Arizona to New York. It was a red-eye (a flight that departs at night, and arrives in the morning) and I was already running on little sleep. Upon sitting down, the lady in front of me decided to, in an especially gratuitous fashion, recline her seat back. I was crammed, almost comically so. My legs had no choice but to rest in the aisle, occasionally being knocked around my the snack cart. For the duration of that flight, I was unable to get a wink of sleep; it was five hours of misery.

Now, you may ask: Why didn't I say anything? Why didn't I speak up?

It's a good question. I am not one for confrontation, especially in tight, public spaces. Plus, no one wants to be a Karen. 

Earlier this year, a couple boarding a Cathay Pacific airplane, traveling from Hong Kong to London, was banned from the airline for making a stink about a passenger's egregiously reclined seat. The couple's response to the selfish passenger, which was obviously wrong and wildly inappropriate (see video here), raises the question of whether allowing people to recline on flights, especially shorter, domestic ones, is a sustainable practice. 

I think that we ought to remember that we are, as Etzioni wrote, "not merely rights-bearing individuals but also community members who are responsible for each other." Let us act more in this way. 

How Do You Dress?

 


You'll find varying degrees of dress - or dressiness, if you like - on the political Right. 

Claremont fellow, Michael Anton, I am told, is a fastidious dresser. This is evidenced, not just by anecdotes I've heard from colleagues, but by pictures of the man himself.


He looks more a member of the Dave Brubeck Quartet, than a conservative academic. 

Similarly, Roger Stone, a beyond-eccentric fellow, with his rather unsettling back tattoo of Richard Nixon, has always been something of a men's fashion influencer. His - what looks to be defunct - fashion blog, Stone on Style, used to feature an annual "Best and Worst Dressed" list, wherein Stone, with what appears to be a well-trained eye for classy dress, celebrates and lambastes the looks of contemporary stars and television personalities. 


Some on the Right, however, prefer a more relaxed, or rather, shabby look.

I was intrigued by one of Jude Russo's blog posts for The Lamp titled New Pants. In it, Russo walks us through his rather limited and quickly fraying wardrobe, which he is more or less unbothered by. "Shabbiness," he explains, "isn’t exactly a choice so much as a comfortable and habitual way of life." Interesting... He goes on to say that "there is nothing softer than a pair of chinos that is about to disintegrate."

I'm thinking of one particular blazer that I own. A blue one. It's comfortable and well-worn, though the inside pocket isn't a pocket at all; it's a hole. I sometimes forget this, only to lose my pens in the abyss of the fabric. 

One of my work colleagues, who is something of a William F. Buckley Jr. expert, tells me that Buckley would throw a blazer over just about anything. He also told me that, as the years went on, the knot on his ties got looser and looser. 

Personally, I quite like the blazer-over-anything approach. It reminds me of Hugh Laurie in House.


Of course, what we wear and how we present ourselves is the first thing that people pick up on when they scan your person. So, even a fraying blazer over a schleppy shirt looks better than the schleppy shirt by itself. 

Anyway, I'm curious: how do you dress?

Do You Believe in Life After the Election?

 

We can't let this election - or any subsequent elections, for that matter - tear us apart. 

Our great nation has endured for nearly 250 years, and we will endure past this election, whether Trump or Kamala wins. 

Don't fall for the hyperbole that "democracy is on the ballot," That is utter nonsense. 

Everyone take a deep breath. 

I am, however, very much concerned by the unwillingness of people with disparate ideological perspectives to converse civilly with each other. Political division can, sadly, be our country's death knell. But only if we let it...

We must make a concerted effort to see the humanity in everyone, from the MAGA hat-wearing Trumper, to the pro-Kamala, liberal Democrat. Even the Zionist waving the flag of Israel must, at some point, see the good in the student protestor donning her watermelon pin and keffiyeh. 

All of this may seem radical, utopian, and naive, but I don't care. If we cannot treat each other with love and grace, we will definitely come apart. 

I'd like to share with you some examples of people - with a lot more influence than me - who have conveyed similar sentiments of national unity. 

Former Democrat Presidential candidate Marianne Williamson has been a great unifier. 

See here:

I could not have said this better. 

Princeton University professor Robert P. George, a conservative whom some know for his friendship with left-wing political activist and third party Presidential candidate Cornel West, lays the groundwork for how we can be friends with people "with whom we have deep moral and political disagreements."

Pennsylvania Governor Josh Shapiro, too, has been sounding all the right notes regarding political polarization. We all remember that horrific day at a Trump rally in Butler, PA when a disturbed gunman fired shots at the former President, killing volunteer firefighter Corey Comperatore, who was, by all means, a patriot. 

Shapiro, during a press conference, remarked that "Corey was an avid supporter of the former President, and was so excited to be there last night with him in the community... Corey was the very best of us. May his memory be a blessing."

I was emotional watching this. But I wasn't alone. 

For a long time, I've been a religious listener of Robert Wright's Nonzero podcast. I was taken aback to see Mickey Kaus, Wright's former co-host, on the verge of tears when recounting Shapiro's beautiful remarks. 

Skip to 23:40 HERE.

J.D. Vance, to his credit, was exactly right to say that we would be terribly mistaken to "cast aside family members and lifelong friendships. Politics is not worth it."

And the Harris campaign, to their credit, released what I thought was a brilliant ad. In it, Kamala says that "the vast majority of people in our country have so much more in common than what separates them... We see, in our fellow Americans, neighbors, not enemies." 

There are, I'm happy to report, myriad examples of this spirit of depolarization that I've found on the web. 

The sanguine notes are, however, drowned out by a cacophony of negativity and disdain. X, especially since Elon's takeover, has become a sort of internet Wild West, where hateful voices, motivated by likes and impressions, are more visible than accounts promoting national unity. This is troublesome, but It is a reality we must come to terms with, at least for now. 

What you can do, however, is unfollow hateful and divisive accounts, and follow thoughtful accounts that don't engage in cheap attacks and demagoguery. Folks like Dean Phillips, Andrew Yang, Sohrab Ahmari, Robert George, Marianne Williamson, and others inspire optimism. Follow them. 

Again, there is plenty to be hopeful about, no matter who wins on Tuesday. We must, though, drop the platitudinous bickering and didactic rhetoric. There is humanity and love in all of us. And I mean all of us. 

Communities that shun pluralism inevitably become tribal. We can't let that happen. 


Fundamental Values

Don't let politics ruin good things. 

With the Presidential election just two weeks away, this is especially salient advice. 

Over the years, I've lost many friends due to ideological differences. Many of my right-of-center friends have also encountered this. 

I refuse, however, to give into toxic polarization; if we let trivial political differences fracture good relationships, we will, ultimately, come apart as a country. 

Remember: we have, in some capacity, always been politically pluralistic. The Jeffersonians and the Hamiltonians; Whigs and Democrats; Democrats and Republicans; libertarian-oriented Republicans and their paleo-conservative counterparts. I can go on and on... 

One's own politics - which, if you are anything like me, are constantly evolving - should be of little import. There is only one thing that we should take into consideration when it comes to relationships: fundamental values. 

Earlier today, I read a beautiful piece by David Spereall in BBC.  He tells the story of a group of Englishmen who, since 1968, have been meeting for pints every Thursday. That's 56 years of regular meet-ups! Can you imagine that?

Even during COVID, the group continued their tradition via Zoom. 

But, what about the political make-up of this group? Are they ideologically monolithic?

"Everybody is different, " one of the ole blokes remarked. "We have incredibly contrasting political views, which leads to the most incredible, illogical arguments."

So, that should be it, right? A politically diverse group could never possibly endure in the long-run! Well, according to Brian, "We are quite different people but I suspect we’ve all got the same fundamental values." Huh... Could this be?? "If we argue with each other, it’s not about critical things."

What do ya know, it looks like people, whether they be Labour, Conservative, Democrat, or Republican, can actually get along just fine. 

But, this begs the question: what are these fundamental values that trump political trivialities? Well, I can give you my answer: respect for animals, the surrounding community, and me. That's it. If someone holds doors for others, tips their waiters and baristas, refrains from any sort of littering, and cares for God's creatures, that's all that matters to me. Their views on immigration or economic policy, on the other hand, are utterly meaningless, albeit potentially interesting.

Speaking of political depolarization, I was actually profiled by photojournalist Paola Chapdelaine in the Guardian last week. See here. She did an awesome job. 

The Need for High-Quality Public Spaces

 

The importance of robust public spaces cannot be overstated. 

I've always believed that the quest for social connection was, first and foremost, something that had to come about through a sort of internal spiritual awakening. That is, a collective understanding that we can not go it alone as purely self-maximizing individuals; we need each other. While I still believe that to be true, I do think that, in the past, I've downplayed the vital role of external environment and the affects it can have on us as social creatures. 

People-friendly spaces, as opposed to sterile spaces devoid of engaging amenities, can facilitate social connection and much-needed weak-tie relationships

It's pretty intuitive, actually: if people are not physically around each other, their prospects for social connection are not very good. 

Public places in and of themselves, however, are not enough to combat our current plague of social atomization. 

As Shawn McCaney writes for Governing, people need more "high-quality public places where Americans can connect." The operative word here being, high-quality

A high-quality public space must have eclectic amenities, robust programming, places to sit and converse, and walkable paths. Perhaps most importantly, these spaces must be maintained. Many of the parks and baseball places I used to frequent with my father when I was a child, for instance, are now unkempt and encumbered by weeds. This is an example of a low-quality public space. 

Other communities, however, have re-purposed dormant and abandoned infrastructure, turning them into vibrant and fecund social spaces. 

McCaney uses the example of Philadelphia's new Rail Park, an erstwhile railroad viaduct that had been left unused and functionless since 1984.  Now, thanks to community efforts and innovative design, it is a place to connect and unwind. 

Philadelphia's Rail Park

Though the park is only in phase-one of its rollout, it is already offering exciting events, including a "Three Mile Vision Tour," which aims to explore the "past, present, and future of the Rail Park, highlighting the potential for this project to connect thousands of Philadelphia residents and visitors to green space and each other." 

You can find a 9-minute YouTube walk-through of the Rail Park, with it's unique swinging benches, here

We need more spaces like this that are conducive to connection. It will require inventiveness, a willingness to re-purpose unused infrastructure, and active community-backing. Cities across the country, fortunately, are proving that civic life can be restored. 

The Appeal of Neo-Luddism

 

I, like you, have a smartphone. Sometimes, though, I wish I didn't. 

Up until my sophomore year of college, I used a Verizon Octane, a neat little flip-phone with a horizontal keyboard. 

Verizon Octane

Being a student in 2016, however, required me to use certain apps which I was unable to access on my clunky dumb-phone. So, out of necessity, I caved and purchased an iPhone SE. I was soon addicted. I downloaded every app from Instagram and Facebook, to games like Plants v. Zombies and The Sims. I have, like so many other people my age, become tethered to my phone. 

But not everyone has capitulated.

In an article for The Lamp, a thoughtful Catholic publication, Peter Tonguette describes himself as a "proud, almost-exclusive user of landline phone-service." It is mystifying to think that, in 2024, people can function without a smartphone. Peter doesn't disdain our contemporary smartphone culture; he just finds no need to abandon what is tried and true: the ole landline. 

To be sure, there isn't much you can do with a landline: you can call, leave voicemails, and... well that's pretty much it. 

But Peter doesn't need all the frills of new technology. He is perfectly content with the reliability of the one-feature phone. 

What's more, those who choose to forego smartphones - or at least prevent their intrusion into every aspect of our daily lives - exist in the moment in a way that we, the smartphone-using masses, are not. I - again, like you - am guilty of firing off text messages or checking my email while out with friends. In fact, there is a word for this activity: phubbing. Look it up!

Peter, on the other hand, is not at his phone's every beck and call (no pun intended.) "When I am away," Peter explains, "I am truly away."

Peter's two phones are in his office and the entry way of his home. Impressive. 

Phone-tower

While it is, I think, pretty unrealistic for us all to revert to landline use only, I do think there is some merit to leaving our smartphones stowed away and out of site for prolonged periods. Maybe, during your commute to work, try reading a physical book. Or, when out to dinner with your friends, start a phone-tower. That's when everyone at the table stacks their phones on top of each other. 

It's worth a shot!


 

Loneliness v. Solitude

 


It is important that we do not conflate loneliness and solitude; while the former connotes a sense of yearning and discontent, the latter describes a much-needed time of introspection and recombobulation. 

A good communitarian will strike a healthy balance between extroversion and self-reflection. Without ample time to engage in solitude, we deprive ourselves of essential cognitive development. Before we express our outward-facing selves to others in the realm of civil society, we must first work to better understand and enhance our inner-beings. While the practice of solitude may seem simplistic, it can actually be quite arduous, requiring the self to, at times, drift into boredom and embrace that boredom as a naturally-occurring and integral component of being happily alone. 

Sherry Turkle - in her important book, Reclaiming Conversation - writes that, "children can't develop the capacity for solitude if they don't have the experience of being 'bored' and then tuning within rather than to a screen." 

Today, though, many of us are incapable of embracing boredom. We are ensconced in a perpetual state of sensory stimulation. By fidgeting and turning to our phones when we feel boredom creeping up on us, we shirk a feeling that may be, at least initially, uncomfortable. 

We must force ourselves to sit still. 

By sitting still, without the aid of our iPhones, we can activate our creative minds. Conversely, when we watch mindless Instagram Reels - which, in full transparency, I've been known to do for extended periods - we put our minds to sleep. In small doses, this is harmless; in large doses; it will surely retard our social selves. 

You'll notice that none of this connotes loneliness, but rather, contentment with time alone. While loneliness is something we've all felt, it is an unproductive state of being. When we are lonely, we seize to be in the moment and, instead, hyperfocus on what is, at least temporarily, unattainable. We yearn for what we don't have: company and companionship. 

The distinction between loneliness and solitude is an important one, but we've all experienced both. 

Please tell me: What are some of your solitary activities? 

Caring for Our Fellow Citizens, Just Like Hamilton Did

 

How can we truly become, as the late Amitai Etzioni put it, a "community of communities?" Or, put differently, how can we reclaim a kind of patriotism that engenders feelings of togetherness and societal cohesion? 

In an essay for the September/October issue of Foreign Affairs, Walter Russell Mead extols the virtues of a Hamiltonian-inspired patriotism. "Then, as now," Mead writes, "Americans must embrace a duty of care toward one another... And just as individual Americans have duties and ties to their family members that they do not have to the public at large, they have obligations to their fellow citizens that do not extend to all humankind." 

Conservatism today, in contrast to the kind of small-c conservatism embraced by Hamilton, is too often conflated with a obligation-free libertarianism. While the former puts emphasis on responsibility and duty, the latter jettisons all of that in favor of maximum autonomy and un-ordered liberty. 

A country of individuals pursuing their own self-interest without any conceptualization of the common good, however, will further fragmentate. We will continue to see our fellow citizens as strangers with little in common, save the pursuit of material maximization. If there is to be no spiritual re-evaluation of our civic priorities, we will descend into a Southern Italian-style amoral familism. 

"Hamilton," Mead continued, "risked his life for a nation that was just being born." But are we, nearly 250 years later, still determined to preserve this awesome inheritance through civic duty and a shared sense of patriotism? 

This will, firstly, require us to see each other as neighbors in a common fight for the creation and preservation of community. And, secondly, to view each other, not as ideological combatants, but as members of a uniquely pluralistic family. 

I'll admit, I was encouraged to see myriad displays of the American flag and chants of "U.S.A." at the Chicago Democratic National Convention. Democrats, I think it's fair to say, have wrestled with, what I call, a "patriotism problem." That is, they are often characterized as having an overly critical view of America, one that can almost be seen as disdainful. 

Here is a video of Ella Emhoff - daughter of Doug Emhoff and Kamala Harris - affectionately referring to her father as "Mr. U.S.A." 

This is a positive development. I hope it is sincere. 

Reclaiming Hamilton's vision is, I think, well within our ability, but it will require work. 

Some of my friends and colleagues, while appreciative of my writing on communitarianism and de-polarization, think this is all pie in the sky. I think they're wrong. Though I agree that we are at an emotionally over-wrought place in our shared American story, I do believe that there are greener pastures ahead. 

Give it time and patience, my friends.   

We Need to Get Serious About the Loneliness Epidemic

  By Frank Filocomo 22-year-old YouTuber Jett Franzen has been living alone in a basement for the past seven months. In an unusually candid ...