Questões de Inglês

Do screens make us stupider?

Time for a rethink of reading

At the university where I teach, fewer and fewer

new books are available from the library in their

physical, printed form. And yet, the company that just

published my textbook tells me that about 90 percent

[5] of students who buy my book choose to lug around

the four-pound paper version rather than purchase

the weightless e-book.

The information is exactly the same, so why would

students opt for the pricier and more cumbersome

[10] version? Is the library missing something important

about the nature of printed versus electronic books?

Some studies do show that information becomes

more securely fixed in people’s minds when they read

it from paper than when they read it from the screen.

[15] Findings like these may resonate with our subjective

experience of reading, and yet still seem puzzling at

an intellectual level. This is because we’re used to

thinking about reading—or information processing

more generally—as the metaphorical equivalent of

[20] consuming food. We talk about devouring novels,

digesting a report, and absorbing information. If we’re

ingesting the same material, whether it’s presented

in print or electronically, how can the results be so

different?

[25] Within the prevailing food metaphor, the only

sensible way to think about these different outcomes

is that reading from paper leads to more efficient or

complete digestion. An intuitive explanation may

be that visual fatigue or the effort of navigating text

[30] onscreen interferes with the processing of information.

Or perhaps we’ve picked up shallow mental habits

while onscreen that prevent us from taking the time

to properly chew on the information as we take it

in. In both cases, the implication is that valuable

[35] informational nutrients that are “there” in the text end

up being mentally excreted rather than absorbed.

But, in reality, the whole reading-as-digestion

metaphor is deeply flawed. Cognitive research shows

that while reading, it’s possible, among other things,

[40] to generate strong visual images based on the text, to

marshal arguments against the author’s main point,

to speculate about the motivations of characters, to

connect the text to personal experiences, to form

an opinion, or to notice the sensory and aesthetic

[45] qualities of the text, to name just a few. Not all of

these take place every time you read, so there is not

just one activity called “reading,” done either poorly

or well.

There are probably all sorts of subtle cues

[50] around us, influencing our cognitive goals moment

by moment. A study showed that when people read

a product review in a hard-to-read font, they more

carefully evaluated the merits of the arguments than

when the same information was presented in easyto-

[55] read font—suggesting that when information

merely feels hard to process, we automatically bring

out the heavy cognitive machinery. The emerging

research on cognitive goals and their triggers offers

an intriguing way to think about why reading the same

[60] text in different formats or even styles of presentation

might engage the mind in such different ways. A

hard-copy textbook may serve as a powerful cue that

sets off cognitive activities that are very distinct from

those that are involved in reading your Twitter feed or

[65] thumbing through a paperback romance novel.

The research should also motivate publishers—

especially of online text—to think deeply about how

elements of presentation and design can serve as

signals to nudge the reader into the mental activities

[70] that do justice to the text. For example, an online

literary magazine may leave readers with unsatisfying

experiences simply because it’s too hard to arouse

the contemplative and sensory goals that lead to

properly savoring its content. The magazine needs

[75] to signal that a different kind of reading is called for,

perhaps by borrowing some of the elements that

poets have long used to cue readers to pay close

attention to the language of a poem: stripping away

graphic distractions, formatting text sparsely and

[80] unconventionally, and surrounding it with generous

swaths of empty space.

Understanding how reading works means

abandoning the idea that the presentation of a text

is as inconsequential as whether a plate of food is

[85] served with a sprig of decorative parsley. In fact,

the packaging of text likely contains rich implicit

instructions for what we do with it.

Available at: <http://blogs.discovermagazine.com/crux/2014/06/17/do- -screens-make-us-stupider-time-for-a-rethink-of-reading/>. Retrieved on: July 10th, 2014. Adapted.

Do screens make us stupider?

Time for a rethink of reading

At the university where I teach, fewer and fewer

new books are available from the library in their

physical, printed form. And yet, the company that just

published my textbook tells me that about 90 percent

[5] of students who buy my book choose to lug around

the four-pound paper version rather than purchase

the weightless e-book.

The information is exactly the same, so why would

students opt for the pricier and more cumbersome

[10] version? Is the library missing something important

about the nature of printed versus electronic books?

Some studies do show that information becomes

more securely fixed in people’s minds when they read

it from paper than when they read it from the screen.

[15] Findings like these may resonate with our subjective

experience of reading, and yet still seem puzzling at

an intellectual level. This is because we’re used to

thinking about reading—or information processing

more generally—as the metaphorical equivalent of

[20] consuming food. We talk about devouring novels,

digesting a report, and absorbing information. If we’re

ingesting the same material, whether it’s presented

in print or electronically, how can the results be so

different?

[25] Within the prevailing food metaphor, the only

sensible way to think about these different outcomes

is that reading from paper leads to more efficient or

complete digestion. An intuitive explanation may

be that visual fatigue or the effort of navigating text

[30] onscreen interferes with the processing of information.

Or perhaps we’ve picked up shallow mental habits

while onscreen that prevent us from taking the time

to properly chew on the information as we take it

in. In both cases, the implication is that valuable

[35] informational nutrients that are “there” in the text end

up being mentally excreted rather than absorbed.

But, in reality, the whole reading-as-digestion

metaphor is deeply flawed. Cognitive research shows

that while reading, it’s possible, among other things,

[40] to generate strong visual images based on the text, to

marshal arguments against the author’s main point,

to speculate about the motivations of characters, to

connect the text to personal experiences, to form

an opinion, or to notice the sensory and aesthetic

[45] qualities of the text, to name just a few. Not all of

these take place every time you read, so there is not

just one activity called “reading,” done either poorly

or well.

There are probably all sorts of subtle cues

[50] around us, influencing our cognitive goals moment

by moment. A study showed that when people read

a product review in a hard-to-read font, they more

carefully evaluated the merits of the arguments than

when the same information was presented in easyto-

[55] read font—suggesting that when information

merely feels hard to process, we automatically bring

out the heavy cognitive machinery. The emerging

research on cognitive goals and their triggers offers

an intriguing way to think about why reading the same

[60] text in different formats or even styles of presentation

might engage the mind in such different ways. A

hard-copy textbook may serve as a powerful cue that

sets off cognitive activities that are very distinct from

those that are involved in reading your Twitter feed or

[65] thumbing through a paperback romance novel.

The research should also motivate publishers—

especially of online text—to think deeply about how

elements of presentation and design can serve as

signals to nudge the reader into the mental activities

[70] that do justice to the text. For example, an online

literary magazine may leave readers with unsatisfying

experiences simply because it’s too hard to arouse

the contemplative and sensory goals that lead to

properly savoring its content. The magazine needs

[75] to signal that a different kind of reading is called for,

perhaps by borrowing some of the elements that

poets have long used to cue readers to pay close

attention to the language of a poem: stripping away

graphic distractions, formatting text sparsely and

[80] unconventionally, and surrounding it with generous

swaths of empty space.

Understanding how reading works means

abandoning the idea that the presentation of a text

is as inconsequential as whether a plate of food is

[85] served with a sprig of decorative parsley. In fact,

the packaging of text likely contains rich implicit

instructions for what we do with it.

Available at: <http://blogs.discovermagazine.com/crux/2014/06/17/do- -screens-make-us-stupider-time-for-a-rethink-of-reading/>. Retrieved on: July 10th, 2014. Adapted.

Do screens make us stupider?

Time for a rethink of reading

At the university where I teach, fewer and fewer

new books are available from the library in their

physical, printed form. And yet, the company that just

published my textbook tells me that about 90 percent

[5] of students who buy my book choose to lug around

the four-pound paper version rather than purchase

the weightless e-book.

The information is exactly the same, so why would

students opt for the pricier and more cumbersome

[10] version? Is the library missing something important

about the nature of printed versus electronic books?

Some studies do show that information becomes

more securely fixed in people’s minds when they read

it from paper than when they read it from the screen.

[15] Findings like these may resonate with our subjective

experience of reading, and yet still seem puzzling at

an intellectual level. This is because we’re used to

thinking about reading—or information processing

more generally—as the metaphorical equivalent of

[20] consuming food. We talk about devouring novels,

digesting a report, and absorbing information. If we’re

ingesting the same material, whether it’s presented

in print or electronically, how can the results be so

different?

[25] Within the prevailing food metaphor, the only

sensible way to think about these different outcomes

is that reading from paper leads to more efficient or

complete digestion. An intuitive explanation may

be that visual fatigue or the effort of navigating text

[30] onscreen interferes with the processing of information.

Or perhaps we’ve picked up shallow mental habits

while onscreen that prevent us from taking the time

to properly chew on the information as we take it

in. In both cases, the implication is that valuable

[35] informational nutrients that are “there” in the text end

up being mentally excreted rather than absorbed.

But, in reality, the whole reading-as-digestion

metaphor is deeply flawed. Cognitive research shows

that while reading, it’s possible, among other things,

[40] to generate strong visual images based on the text, to

marshal arguments against the author’s main point,

to speculate about the motivations of characters, to

connect the text to personal experiences, to form

an opinion, or to notice the sensory and aesthetic

[45] qualities of the text, to name just a few. Not all of

these take place every time you read, so there is not

just one activity called “reading,” done either poorly

or well.

There are probably all sorts of subtle cues

[50] around us, influencing our cognitive goals moment

by moment. A study showed that when people read

a product review in a hard-to-read font, they more

carefully evaluated the merits of the arguments than

when the same information was presented in easyto-

[55] read font—suggesting that when information

merely feels hard to process, we automatically bring

out the heavy cognitive machinery. The emerging

research on cognitive goals and their triggers offers

an intriguing way to think about why reading the same

[60] text in different formats or even styles of presentation

might engage the mind in such different ways. A

hard-copy textbook may serve as a powerful cue that

sets off cognitive activities that are very distinct from

those that are involved in reading your Twitter feed or

[65] thumbing through a paperback romance novel.

The research should also motivate publishers—

especially of online text—to think deeply about how

elements of presentation and design can serve as

signals to nudge the reader into the mental activities

[70] that do justice to the text. For example, an online

literary magazine may leave readers with unsatisfying

experiences simply because it’s too hard to arouse

the contemplative and sensory goals that lead to

properly savoring its content. The magazine needs

[75] to signal that a different kind of reading is called for,

perhaps by borrowing some of the elements that

poets have long used to cue readers to pay close

attention to the language of a poem: stripping away

graphic distractions, formatting text sparsely and

[80] unconventionally, and surrounding it with generous

swaths of empty space.

Understanding how reading works means

abandoning the idea that the presentation of a text

is as inconsequential as whether a plate of food is

[85] served with a sprig of decorative parsley. In fact,

the packaging of text likely contains rich implicit

instructions for what we do with it.

Available at: <http://blogs.discovermagazine.com/crux/2014/06/17/do- -screens-make-us-stupider-time-for-a-rethink-of-reading/>. Retrieved on: July 10th, 2014. Adapted.

Do screens make us stupider?

Time for a rethink of reading

At the university where I teach, fewer and fewer

new books are available from the library in their

physical, printed form. And yet, the company that just

published my textbook tells me that about 90 percent

[5] of students who buy my book choose to lug around

the four-pound paper version rather than purchase

the weightless e-book.

The information is exactly the same, so why would

students opt for the pricier and more cumbersome

[10] version? Is the library missing something important

about the nature of printed versus electronic books?

Some studies do show that information becomes

more securely fixed in people’s minds when they read

it from paper than when they read it from the screen.

[15] Findings like these may resonate with our subjective

experience of reading, and yet still seem puzzling at

an intellectual level. This is because we’re used to

thinking about reading—or information processing

more generally—as the metaphorical equivalent of

[20] consuming food. We talk about devouring novels,

digesting a report, and absorbing information. If we’re

ingesting the same material, whether it’s presented

in print or electronically, how can the results be so

different?

[25] Within the prevailing food metaphor, the only

sensible way to think about these different outcomes

is that reading from paper leads to more efficient or

complete digestion. An intuitive explanation may

be that visual fatigue or the effort of navigating text

[30] onscreen interferes with the processing of information.

Or perhaps we’ve picked up shallow mental habits

while onscreen that prevent us from taking the time

to properly chew on the information as we take it

in. In both cases, the implication is that valuable

[35] informational nutrients that are “there” in the text end

up being mentally excreted rather than absorbed.

But, in reality, the whole reading-as-digestion

metaphor is deeply flawed. Cognitive research shows

that while reading, it’s possible, among other things,

[40] to generate strong visual images based on the text, to

marshal arguments against the author’s main point,

to speculate about the motivations of characters, to

connect the text to personal experiences, to form

an opinion, or to notice the sensory and aesthetic

[45] qualities of the text, to name just a few. Not all of

these take place every time you read, so there is not

just one activity called “reading,” done either poorly

or well.

There are probably all sorts of subtle cues

[50] around us, influencing our cognitive goals moment

by moment. A study showed that when people read

a product review in a hard-to-read font, they more

carefully evaluated the merits of the arguments than

when the same information was presented in easyto-

[55] read font—suggesting that when information

merely feels hard to process, we automatically bring

out the heavy cognitive machinery. The emerging

research on cognitive goals and their triggers offers

an intriguing way to think about why reading the same

[60] text in different formats or even styles of presentation

might engage the mind in such different ways. A

hard-copy textbook may serve as a powerful cue that

sets off cognitive activities that are very distinct from

those that are involved in reading your Twitter feed or

[65] thumbing through a paperback romance novel.

The research should also motivate publishers—

especially of online text—to think deeply about how

elements of presentation and design can serve as

signals to nudge the reader into the mental activities

[70] that do justice to the text. For example, an online

literary magazine may leave readers with unsatisfying

experiences simply because it’s too hard to arouse

the contemplative and sensory goals that lead to

properly savoring its content. The magazine needs

[75] to signal that a different kind of reading is called for,

perhaps by borrowing some of the elements that

poets have long used to cue readers to pay close

attention to the language of a poem: stripping away

graphic distractions, formatting text sparsely and

[80] unconventionally, and surrounding it with generous

swaths of empty space.

Understanding how reading works means

abandoning the idea that the presentation of a text

is as inconsequential as whether a plate of food is

[85] served with a sprig of decorative parsley. In fact,

the packaging of text likely contains rich implicit

instructions for what we do with it.

Available at: <http://blogs.discovermagazine.com/crux/2014/06/17/do- -screens-make-us-stupider-time-for-a-rethink-of-reading/>. Retrieved on: July 10th, 2014. Adapted.

Do screens make us stupider?

Time for a rethink of reading

At the university where I teach, fewer and fewer

new books are available from the library in their

physical, printed form. And yet, the company that just

published my textbook tells me that about 90 percent

[5] of students who buy my book choose to lug around

the four-pound paper version rather than purchase

the weightless e-book.

The information is exactly the same, so why would

students opt for the pricier and more cumbersome

[10] version? Is the library missing something important

about the nature of printed versus electronic books?

Some studies do show that information becomes

more securely fixed in people’s minds when they read

it from paper than when they read it from the screen.

[15] Findings like these may resonate with our subjective

experience of reading, and yet still seem puzzling at

an intellectual level. This is because we’re used to

thinking about reading—or information processing

more generally—as the metaphorical equivalent of

[20] consuming food. We talk about devouring novels,

digesting a report, and absorbing information. If we’re

ingesting the same material, whether it’s presented

in print or electronically, how can the results be so

different?

[25] Within the prevailing food metaphor, the only

sensible way to think about these different outcomes

is that reading from paper leads to more efficient or

complete digestion. An intuitive explanation may

be that visual fatigue or the effort of navigating text

[30] onscreen interferes with the processing of information.

Or perhaps we’ve picked up shallow mental habits

while onscreen that prevent us from taking the time

to properly chew on the information as we take it

in. In both cases, the implication is that valuable

[35] informational nutrients that are “there” in the text end

up being mentally excreted rather than absorbed.

But, in reality, the whole reading-as-digestion

metaphor is deeply flawed. Cognitive research shows

that while reading, it’s possible, among other things,

[40] to generate strong visual images based on the text, to

marshal arguments against the author’s main point,

to speculate about the motivations of characters, to

connect the text to personal experiences, to form

an opinion, or to notice the sensory and aesthetic

[45] qualities of the text, to name just a few. Not all of

these take place every time you read, so there is not

just one activity called “reading,” done either poorly

or well.

There are probably all sorts of subtle cues

[50] around us, influencing our cognitive goals moment

by moment. A study showed that when people read

a product review in a hard-to-read font, they more

carefully evaluated the merits of the arguments than

when the same information was presented in easyto-

[55] read font—suggesting that when information

merely feels hard to process, we automatically bring

out the heavy cognitive machinery. The emerging

research on cognitive goals and their triggers offers

an intriguing way to think about why reading the same

[60] text in different formats or even styles of presentation

might engage the mind in such different ways. A

hard-copy textbook may serve as a powerful cue that

sets off cognitive activities that are very distinct from

those that are involved in reading your Twitter feed or

[65] thumbing through a paperback romance novel.

The research should also motivate publishers—

especially of online text—to think deeply about how

elements of presentation and design can serve as

signals to nudge the reader into the mental activities

[70] that do justice to the text. For example, an online

literary magazine may leave readers with unsatisfying

experiences simply because it’s too hard to arouse

the contemplative and sensory goals that lead to

properly savoring its content. The magazine needs

[75] to signal that a different kind of reading is called for,

perhaps by borrowing some of the elements that

poets have long used to cue readers to pay close

attention to the language of a poem: stripping away

graphic distractions, formatting text sparsely and

[80] unconventionally, and surrounding it with generous

swaths of empty space.

Understanding how reading works means

abandoning the idea that the presentation of a text

is as inconsequential as whether a plate of food is

[85] served with a sprig of decorative parsley. In fact,

the packaging of text likely contains rich implicit

instructions for what we do with it.

Available at: <http://blogs.discovermagazine.com/crux/2014/06/17/do- -screens-make-us-stupider-time-for-a-rethink-of-reading/>. Retrieved on: July 10th, 2014. Adapted.