To read or not to read
Reading is perhaps the most crucial skill in philosophy. But its benefits reach far beyond the field, with profound impact on many life dimensions.
Regular reading hones empathy, mental health, and intelligence. It calms the mind, reduces stress, and protects against cognitive decline. It's a good indicator of life satisfaction as well as success. It's hard to overstate just how beneficial reading is.
But it is difficult to know how to become a competent reader. Most of us learn the very basics in school, then never question the process again. Typically, reading speed and comprehension improve as we grow up, but both will quickly plateau, and a large portion of readers will forever remain at this level. But in reality, that's just the start.
Because reading is not a one-solution-fits-all kind of process. It is not the answer to one and the same recurring question, but a collection of tools that flexibly adjust to the problem at hand. Depending on what you read, the process changes quite significantly. Are you reading a mathematical argument? A news article? An ancient Greek poet?
In similar fashion, the reader's why will decide much about their engagement. Do you want to grasp a text's general idea, or are you looking for profound understanding, to carry with you through time? Are you looking to learn facts and figures, bits and pieces? Or do you want to confront something deeply emotional, something buried within you, that can only be awakened by a poet's gentle touch?
And what if you fail to understand? What if a text is so far above your head, it overwhelms you, dwarfs you? This sensation is particularly relevant for newcomers to philosophy (such as myself). Great thinkers do not only have challenging ideas, but they are often notoriously hard to read, too. Can you teach the mind to climb such heights?
Fortunately, you can. The trick is active reading. And yes, it does need training; now more than ever. The modern mind is a soothed one, adjusted to undemanding content and constant distraction. Reclaiming one's ability to focus, to stretch the mind to its limits and thus expand its grasp, takes time. But it is well worth the effort.
In any case, I will post a more detailed article on the subject once I've had time for some research. That may be soon, as I'm hoping to write a term paper on the topic; a sort of guide to reading, with tips and tricks to ensure proper text engagement and grow one's competence—and, crucially, what to do when stuck.
