100 Things we've lost to the internet

"The internet has made it easier to access information, but it has also made it harder to access our own thoughts." 7 Lessons from 100 Things We've Lost to the Internet by Pamela Paul: 1. The Value of Deep Focus Paul highlights how the internet has fragmented our attention spans, making it harder to engage in deep, focused activities. She emphasizes the importance of cultivating the ability to concentrate fully on tasks, which can lead to greater satisfaction and productivity. 2. The Importance of Boredom The book discusses how the internet has largely eliminated boredom, which can be a catalyst for creativity and self-reflection. Paul argues that allowing ourselves to experience boredom can lead to new ideas and insights. 3. The Loss of Face-to-Face Interactions Paul points out that digital communication often replaces in-person interactions, which can diminish the quality of relationships. She advocates for prioritizing face-to-face connections to foster deeper emotional bonds. 4. The Erosion of Privacy The internet has transformed our understanding of privacy, often leading to oversharing and a lack of boundaries. Paul urges readers to be mindful of their digital footprints and to reclaim their privacy in an increasingly connected world. 5. The Decline of Reading for Pleasure The book notes that the internet has shifted how we consume information, often at the expense of reading books for enjoyment. Paul encourages readers to rediscover the joy of reading and to make time for literature in their lives. 6. The Shift in Cultural Knowledge Paul discusses how the internet has changed the way we acquire knowledge, often favoring quick searches over deep learning. She emphasizes the importance of engaging with complex ideas and historical context to develop a well-rounded understanding of the world. 7. The Need for Digital Detox Finally, Paul advocates for regular breaks from the internet to reconnect with the physical world and ourselves. She suggests that stepping away from screens can enhance our mental health and overall well-being, allowing us to appreciate life beyond the digital realm. These lessons encourage readers to reflect on their relationship with technology and to seek a more balanced, fulfilling life that values genuine experiences and connections.

The acclaimed editor of The New York Times Book Review takes readers on a nostalgic tour of the pre-Internet age, offering powerful insights into both the profound and the seemingly trivial things we've lost. NAMED ONE OF THE TEN BEST BOOKS OF THE YEAR BY CHICAGO TRIBUNE AND THE DALLAS MORNING NEWS • “A deft blend of nostalgia, humor and devastating insights.”— People Remember all those ingrained habits, cherished ideas, beloved objects, and stubborn preferences from the pre-Internet age? They’re gone. To some of those things we can say good riddance. But many we miss terribly. Whatever our emotional response to this departed realm, we are faced with the fact that nearly every aspect of modern life now takes place in filtered, isolated corners of cyberspace—a space that has slowly subsumed our physical habitats, replacing or transforming the office, our local library, a favorite bar, the movie theater, and the coffee shop where people met one another’s gaze from across the room. Even as we’ve gained the ability to gather without leaving our house, many of the fundamentally human experiences that have sustained us have disappeared. In one hundred glimpses of that pre-Internet world, Pamela Paul, editor of The New York Times Book Review, presents a captivating record, enlivened with illustrations, of the world before cyberspace—from voicemails to blind dates to punctuation to civility. There are the small postcards, the blessings of an adolescence largely spared of documentation, the Rolodex, and the genuine surprises at high school reunions. But there are larger repercussions, weaker memories, the inability to entertain oneself, and the utter demolition of privacy. 100 Things We’ve Lost to the Internet is at once an evocative swan song for a disappearing era and, perhaps, a guide to reclaiming just a little bit more of the world IRL.

Pamela Paul is the editor of The New York Times Book Review and oversees books coverage at The Times. She also hosts the weekly Book Review podcast. She is the author of six books, How to Raise a Reader, co-authored with Maria Russo, My Life with Bob: Flawed Heroine Keeps Book of Books, Plot Ensues, By the Book, Parenting, Inc., Pornified, and The Starter Marriage and the Future of Matrimony. Prior to joining the Times, Paul was a contributor to Time magazine and The Economist, and her work has appeared in The Atlantic, The Washington Post, and Vogue. Her next book, Rectangle Time, comes out in February. She and her family live in New York.

When I first saw "100 Things We've Lost to the Internet" on the shelf at the library, I thought that it would probably be full of cute nostalgia. How wrong I was. What I took away from this was that the author felt that what little we lost was offset by things being so much better now. I didn't agree, so I was going to give it a 1-star rating. That is pretty drastic, I know, but sometimes that is how books seem to be rated. It is not by literary merits but rather because of the emotions they bring forth in the reader. For instance... If there is one phrase that makes me cringe, it is, "It is so easy, just go online." When I got laid off, I went to the unemployment office. Luckily it was a few weeks before the COVID outbreak. I could have "went online," but I chose to wait for one-on-one assistance from one of the fine folks there. Even though he didn't know me, he zipped through page after page of things that didn't apply to me, that I would have carefully read line by line in my ignorance, and still wondered if I filled it all in correctly. Afterall, I was dealing with the government. The author praises the advantages of a cashless society. My rebuttal is that the Constitution calls for gold and silver as money for a reason. Even that fiat currency referred to as 'Federal Reserve Notes' says it is legal tender for payment so not accepting it is breaking the law. Sure, credit cards are handy, but Visa and Capital One wouldn't be around if it wasn't such a lucrative business charging interest to people who can't pay off their debt. I could just see a cashless society someday where a corrupt politician wakes up in the morning, and instead of selling one of his paintings to the leader of a foreign government, logs into his or her offshore bank and adds three zeros to the dollar amount in the account. Inflation is here and in spite of what economists are rewarded for saying, no inflation is normal or healthy for those of us veterans or elderly on a fixed income. One thing I have to agree with was a quote she mentioned by Neil Gaiman. According to him, "Google can bring you back a hundred thousand answers. A librarian can bring you back the right one." One time I was in an online debate about drugs with someone. It was obvious that rather than speaking from experience as I was, she was merely listing links to support her argument. I thought, "You dummy, it is obvious that you have never worked in a pharmaceutical company, nor have you read 'Radium Girls,' where the author told how insurance companies used favorable (and now we know untrue) evidence from doctors that radiation didn't harm those exposed to it to avoid paying out to victims of radiation poisoning." The author is also right about the loss of privacy on the internet too. Look at Hillary's email controversy. When she was trying to hide evidence, she not only had emails deleted but had the server acid washed. I wonder how her people made sure those messages that were delivered never saw the light of day? All the while I was reading this I was thinking how, if such a person were in a movie, they would be the one that finds out her husband met someone online or her child was on the verge of suicide due to online bullying. In spite of claims of how everything your child does can be monitored; I have no doubt that today's youth could find ways around it if they really wanted to. These kids know their way around the digital world better than we do. Who do they want to hire for work in the computer world, somebody like the author or a 20-year-old? I wouldn't doubt that some of these kids can go into the dark web and find the right app to fool mom and dad. Raising your kids right and having a happy marriage is based on physical time spent with them and showing them that you love them and not by simply monitoring their computer usage. In fairness to the author, it was easy to read. Many would agree with the author and enjoy it, so I will therefore bump my 1 star rating up to 2.

Before I review this, people should know that I basically spend my working hours researching on and thinking about how people use the internet. Sounds fun, I know, and it is, for a large part. But also, a common refrain among my friends and me is that the internet was a mistake. I mean, we usually say this in the context of hate speech or disinformation, which is definitely not what Pamela Paul talks about here. I should clarify, that for almost all intents and purposes, I identify as a luddite. I study the internet, but I don't much use it. I broke my phone, completely shattered it, back in 2019, and I honestly was able to survive without it for quite sometime (I have a lesser phone now). Was it difficult to be an analogue girl in a digital world? Somewhat, yes, but not really. I mean, I knew which train I had to take to get to my office, and when, although I couldn't really know if the train would be late or early on a given day. And whilst I had to lug my groceries around because I couldn't access cab services or grocery services, it was something I had done in the past anyway, so it wasn't a big deal, really. Importantly, I realised, that nothing was really life-or-death anymore. I told my co-workers that I didn't have my phone on me, so I could only access my emails or Slack channels when I had my laptop open, and people were okay with that. I mean, it had to come to my phone completely being in pieces to go on a technology diet, but it changed me. Little bit. It made me stick to my guns about not responding to my emails everyday, all the time, even if I was not working. It made me more comfortable telling people that I didn't feel comfortable being asked to be available outside of working hours for non-emergencies. My time was my time, and what I did with it was my business. Phone, or no phone. In the 1994 movie Before Sunrise , one of the characters asks what the benefit of quicker technology actually is, if we don't use the free time for something else, something fun. Everything is instant, but people are busier than ever. I don't really think I got the point of it when I first saw the movie, but I do now. When I was younger, in school, I had to wait till I got home to tell my parents something important, or tragic. Or, if it was really an emergency, I would have to call their office or mobile phones in the lunch break only. That's just how it was. Even better, I went to high school before smart phones, so I could bunk off and do other things, and there was no real way to find it out or stop me. I think I almost got caught once, but I got away with it by lying about the bus being late. I genuinely feel bad for all the kids these days that cannot get away with these small, white lies. I mean, you have apps that can track movement, and bus schedules are on the internet, updated almost every few seconds. In a world dictated by Encyclopaedia Britannica, I grew up on Dorling Kindersley. In fact, on a recent family vacation, I used my DK-gained knowledge to correctly explain the difference between a beam and a bracket (I am a political scientist, not an architect). In 2009, at a book exhibition, my brother and I successfully begged our parents to buy us the entire Encyclopaedia Britannica. It sits proudly on the top rack of our nicest bookshelf at home. Little did we know, the 2010 edition was going to be the last one. It was also the prettiest edition I'd ever seen, and I even regret asking my parents for the 2009 edition. However, the question arises, how does one split the Encyclopaedia Britannica? I can never buy it for my children, should I choose to have children, and it would be unfair of me to take the edition my parents bought me (and my brother). These are questions that keep me up at night. I used to work in a newsroom, and it was almost at the cusp of the digital revolution. It was in the early 2010s, when people were just beginning to use the internet and social media for "news" and "information". Figuring out how to reconcile the newspaper with "e-news" was a discussion that lasted days, weeks, months. Now, a decade later, it's almost impossible to believe that we lived in a time where we had to wait for the newspaper to be delivered in the morning for the news, or turn on the television for "breaking" news. My journalistic sensibilities go against this kind of 24 hour news cycle, where eyeballs dictate the news. In the television show The Newsroom , Chris Messina's character says that people will move on to a channel that is current, every second we (or they) are not current. I hate that the news "biz" has come to that. It's become okay to make mistakes and correct them on the fly. Don't get me wrong, newspapers and media houses have always made mistakes and updated corrections. It's why we have public editors and ombudspersons. But, having said that, I think that in their thirst to be updated about every single world event all the time, people have forgotten to respect the subjects of news pieces. There's a detachedness to the way we look at the world, to the way we're able to switch our outpouring of sympathies from one tragedy to another in the blink of an eye. Curated imperfection really proliferated as the internet proliferated. Influencers, especially embraced the culture of curated imperfection, setting high, unmatchable standards that every other person continues to aspire to, even today. I'm not saying that impossible standards did not exist before the internet, they did. But, having said that, there was a widely accepted social contract that these impossible standards were, in fact, impossible, and not something I could have achieved in my middling, almost boring life. With social media, however, we've seen a lot of "just like you" celebrities. Busy, working women whose lives are imperfectly perfect, real dreams you could achieve if only you worked hard enough and aspired for them. The difference here, is that these women claim to have middling, almost boring lives, just like you, when in fact they don't. I think the thing that social media has done for me, is honestly show me how absolutely average my life is, and now that I can live with it, I'm happy about it. I'm a younger millennial. I grew up with the internet revolution and the digital revolution and all that. I really do understand how the internet works. But, I also have the dubious distinction of trying to understand how people act on the internet, and why they act the way they act. It can get anyone jaded, that. I don't really think the internet was a mistake. At least, not all the time. I do believe that we gave up a lot of things for the convenience of the internet, and I don't know that we realise the full extent of what we gave up. I think it would do us all some good to sit back, and really think about everything we've lost to the internet. Because while we have gained a lot, we've also lost a lot.

I’m a fan of Paul’s NYT book review podcast, so I was excited to see she’d written a book. I enjoyed it. Paul does a good job of describing the good and the bad that has come from the massive shift the internet has brought to pretty much every part of our way of life. In Paul’s telling the changes are mostly bad, though I’m glad this book never turns into lament for “how things used to be.” This book is very New York heavy (and sometimes very French heavy?) but I found myself relating to a lot of what she writes: “How is it that activities that you’d never in a zillion years be roped into doing in real life - paging through an old acquaintance’s baby album, suffering through an odd slide show from Turkey - become strangely alluring online?” And it also got me reminiscing things I probably would have never thought about again: “That moment at the beginning of the first day of school when books were handed out - if you were lucky you got one of the shiny new ones, maybe even an updated edition, but if you were unlucky you had to write your name on the inside back cover under the name of the student who had your bio textbook last year - was a thing of the past. No getting excited or annoyed about which upperclassmen had your textbook before. No spending time trying to discern something about the previous owner by deciphering old doodles.”

This book will make you laugh, then feel nostalgic, then feel critical, then feel wistful. It is absolutely worth reading, even if you are the most obsessed techie in miles. Years ago I read this author's book Pornified -- which, as a polemic against the spread of internet porn, was the literary equivalent of shaking a fist at the sea. But now we can see more clearly the assets and liabilities of our increasingly digital life. This book does not read as a polemic at all. It's more like a series of newspaper columns, whose individual entries are funny and clever, but which over time says something larger about how our society and interactions have irrevocably changed. We will not miss the know-it-all, anymore than teenagers will miss trying to chat up a love interest on a kitchen phone with the whole family listening. But I felt that something important was lost when people sitting down for dinner started bringing their phones to the table. I miss letters to the editor, signed by an actual person using their actual name. There's much more, but I don't want to spoil it. Even if you love Facebook, even if the first thing you do in the morning is check your phone, you will find plenty to entertain you in this book.

I saw this reviewed somewhere and picked it up at the library. For me, it was an interesting, quick read. I like the way Pamela Paul takes a short look at 100 things that used to play a major role in our lives but now are gone or on the way out. As far as I'm, concerned, some of losses are fine. I don't care about losing the TV Guide, my checkbook, touch typing, or even figuring out who that actor is. Other losses are more painful - loss of eye contact, loss of civility. even loss of snail mail birthday cards. Granted, not all losses are lost across the board. Ms Paul highlights the loss of photo albums but you can still do that. She cites loss of school libraries but I think the essence of school libraries can easily be preserved. She suggests that phone calls are lost but, in my experience, face time calls are even more connecting and valuable than old school phone calls. I believe that the internet has improved our lives in many ways. No doubt it has made connection easier. It has made research and knowledge more available for many. But it is useful to look at what has been lost. This book makes me wonder if human beings really know what has been lost with the arrival of the internet. Again, this is a light book but the meaning behind it is deeper to me. Ms Paul asks us to consider how the internet has affected our personal lives, our emotional selves. She throws out these 100 things but underneath that is a bigger question. Are we happy with the arrival of the internet? Are there things we want to preserve? I think it's wise to be open to change but to still have an awareness of what we both losing and gaining. This little book is a delightful beginning to that awareess.

"Connection" may be the most loaded word of the post-internet age. Pamela Paul describes 100 things in our pre-wired world that explore the ways we connected with materials (magazines, Christmas cards) and experiences (making memories, starting up life in a new city) . Written in skimmable, and easily digestible chapters, this catalog provides a mixed bag of the world we lost, and the one we are in currently. The book has a fun, unhurriedness about it, and it is agreeable in the content it provides. It hardly scratches the dark ways social media undermines mental health , political civility, and truth. That's a different kind of book, but the items Paul focuses on are largely Internet 1.0. And it's a very deliberate choice, but she explores what we missed, instead of what is gained through the integration of technologies. There is more than surface here, and there are a lot of things to ponder of the lost world. Our remembered selves are more fragmented, our social media more determinate, and our relationships largely more distant and alienated. Still, I think this book could have provided deeper trend analysis...sharing deeper insights into the world we lost. Also, the technology that has created the change...network speeds, social media, cell phone platforms, is never explored. A fun read. Something to click open and scroll through, when you can't find a paper magazine in sight.

In the book Technopoly, Neil Postman says that "technological change is neither additive nor subtractive. It is ecological." It is fruitless to ask whether the internet, or the steam engine, or the printing press, or the wheel were "good" or "bad" for society. But new technologies do not add or detract; they transform. Society after the steam engine is fundamentally different than before. So instead of asking whether technologies are good or bad, we should instead ask questions like: in what way did this technology reconfigure human relations? How did it change labour conditions? How did it change the way we communicate? What was lost? What was gained? What problems did it solve, and what new problems did it engender? 100 Things We Lost to the Internet is an earnest attempt to answer these questions. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen another book like it. It feels so nonjudgemental. It takes the internet as neither hero nor villain. The internet didn’t make our lives better or worse, it simply (simply!) reconfigured society in countless ways we are still only beginning to understand. I think that this idea is more profound than any of the actual chapters in the book, which are mostly just breezy and nostalgic. There were a few sad moments—for example, realizing that school libraries are a dying breed that are being replaced by computer labs—and a few fun revelations—for instance realizing that Siri trains us not to say please or thank you. It was also valuable to think about the absolute impossibility of travelling before the internet. You just….bought your travel tickets…at a…what, a kiosk? And coordinated with people how? Pay phones? Did people just show up places and wait for people? And navigated how? Using physical maps? It’s kind of inconceivable to think about now. Another realization for me was that a lot of the changes that are supposedly due to the internet are actually due to the iPhone and social media. I think we sometimes overrate the importance of the internet and underrate the iPhone. Putting a phone and alarm clock and camera and calculator in our pockets enabled something that, to me, feels radically different than having access to the same tools on a desktop computer. Being able to photograph and document the world around us so easily I think has led to a fairly profound collective change in the way we view life—as something to be captured and re-lived, as something to be entered into the historical record, as an ongoing film in which we are the main or supporting characters. To me, this is not quite a feature of “the internet”, though of course the internet played a major role in making it possible. In sum: fun book! Worthwhile to get you to meditate on the theme of the transformations wrought by the internet, but somewhat forgettable in its specific details.

When we think of the internet we think of progress and technology that makes our lives easier. But, there are also things we're losing to the internet that are not good or beneficial. The internet is shaping younger generations faster than we can even realize what they might be losing. Some people are happy to say good riddance to paper maps, landline phones, the rolodex or checkbooks. But, should we be happy about losing patience, a good nights sleep, real work-free vacations, and penmanship/hand writing? It might seem trivial, but is it really good that kids are no longer being taught to touch-type? That people barely know how to interact face to face anymore? This interesting list of 100 Things We've Lost to the Internet is written in a non-judgmental way, but definitely makes you think about which of the 100 things are good and which are maybe bad losses. As an aside, I didn't realize when I put this book on hold that I had already read two of the author's previous books - Pornified in my pre-Goodreads days and My Life with Bob. Two very different books than this one, but that I also very much enjoyed. Some quotes I liked: [On the loss of school libraries] "Many schools, even in upscale and progressive districts like Montclair, New Jersey, no longer have a librarian on the premises. Fully 206 out of 218 public schools in Philadelphia have no librarian at all, and 200 have no library book collection. California has the worst ratio of students to school librarians in the nation: 7,000 to 1." (p. 57) "Before everyone toted an Internet megaphone, most people didn't bother telegraphing their every passing pensee and opinion for public dissection, mostly because the baseline assumption was that nobody really cared what you thought; people kept their own counsel. Once we were all given a platform to stand on, the ground-level assumption was that we all had something to say and should speak up. Who knew how much we were holding in all that time?" (p. 104-5) "In the online world, there is more speaking than hearing, and very little in the way of open listening. Interaction is more often about finding people to get angry with and angry at than it is about sharing hearts and minds. Basically, it's the opposite of empathy. On the Internet, fury does quite well for itself; it's the other feelings that get left out." (p. 145-46) "In 2019, I received in the snail mail a tasteful invitation printed on heavy stock with an RSVP card tucked neatly inside, and a phone number to call if you opted not to mail the card in. Astonishingly, there was no email address included. My first thought was, 'How quaint and unusual; most lovely!' but it was swiftly followed by, 'What a pain.' Manners are charming, but time-consuming." (p. 170-71) "Currency itself is on the way out, with only 7 percent of all financial transactions involving bill and coin." (p. 194) "Anyone who has mastered the QWERTY keyboard knows just how excruciating it is to watch someone who doesn't know how to type...But it turns out, the kids who can't handwrite in fourth grade also can't touch-type when they get to middle school. Just as schools ignore cursive, they have abandoned typing in their rush to get kids onscreen...Touch-typing is like riding a bike, a kind of cognitive automaticity; once you know how, you can do it without thinking about it, freeing your mind to think about ideas, sentence structure, language, rhythm and flow. You write faster and you write better." (p. 241-42)