It’s hard not to side with author Steven Johnson as you pour through the more than two hundred pages of statistics, analogies, and other evidence for the “Sleeper Curve” that is Everything Bad Is Good For You. According to Johnson, video games, television, the Internet, and film (the same media forms that critics have been, well, criticizing for some time under the premise that they are becoming increasingly simplistic and replete with violence and sex) are in fact making us smarter. They exercise our minds in ways that more widely accepted literary works do not—in problem solving, pattern recognition, spatial logic, and other specific forms of intelligence measured for in IQ tests—hence the overall increase in IQ scores in recent years. Not only that, modern-day video games force players to “telescope” (e.g., to prioritize the many objectives that nest one inside the other like the lenses of a telescope, zooming in on the most immediate objective that must be achieved to advance in the game), to make decisions, and to learn the ways of the game through exploration. In his argument, Johnson claims that the popularity of these games, despite the frustration they often cause us, stems from their ability to tap into the brain’s “natural reward circuitry” and our desire to “see the next thing.”
Television, he says, has experienced a similar increase in complexity—there are more threads (plotlines) and important characters, and less flashing arrows (“narrative handholding”) in the average program today than ever before; thus, the audience must stay more intellectually attuned. And if they don’t? Well, there is always the option of taping it, “TiVoing” it, buying it on DVD, watching it On Demand, listening to the director’s commentary, or even reading (and participating in) fan sites or online discussion forums. This is the reason, Johnson argues, for the greater than ever sophistication of modern TV shows—that there are now so many ways to view and dissect them that the new goal of the TV production industry is to keep the audience’s attention through repeat viewings. How? By making things more complicated so that greater scrutiny is rewarded in the form of picking up on, perhaps, one more subtle reference or hidden meaning per viewing. The same goes for films—they are getting harder and harder to follow so as to be more attractive candidates for one’s permanent library.
The most compelling evidence for the “Sleeper Curve,” Johnson says (and I agree), is financial. We have said all along that popular culture is commercial; the goal of its producers (or “promoters,” as Nachbar and Lause refer to them) is to generate a product that will appeal to the masses (e.g., be consumed at large), and the best way to do that is to give the people what they want. How are they to know what the people want? Sales are a dead giveaway; it is obvious the American people want more complex games, TV shows, and movies that they can play and watch over and over again, because that’s what they’re buying, renting, etc. This concept dates back to the late 1800s, when American Vaudeville (variety entertainment) was first born. In order for his theatre to better succeed (financially), Benjamin Franklin Keith showed acts continuously so as to appeal to both the middle class (often with ample leisure time) and the working class (with their tighter schedules), and he cleaned up the content of the acts themselves in order to attract more women and children, not to mention the support of the Church.
Unfortunately, the content of today’s many forms of popular culture (games, shows, websites, and movies, in particular) are not so free of vulgarity, or violence or sex for that matter. Johnson briefly acknowledges this fact when he says, “the morals of the stories have grown darker and more ambiguous, and the antiheroes have multiplied,” but proceeds to brush the issue of content of entertainment aside, claiming that it “has less of an impact than the kind of thinking the entertainment forces you to do.” As an aspiring elementary school teacher, I am hesitant to altogether disregard the harmful content of popular culture, especially in those forms accessible to young children; however, I am aware that Johnson’s “Sleeper Curve” argument is unrelated to this issue, and so I do not see his exclusion of it as a “cop-out.” I do think it’s important to note that research by two certified psychologists, Douglas Gentile and Craig Anderson, has shown that violent video games may be having strong effects on children’s aggression in the very same ways that Johnson says these games are making them smarter—by being “highly engaging and interactive,” by rewarding violent behavior, and by having them “repeat these behaviors over and over as they play” (“Violent Video Games”). So which is more important—that kids improve their “telescoping” and decision-making abilities by playing video games, or that they remain nonviolent by not? That, I believe, is a question to be answered in another book entirely.
I consider myself lucky in that my semester topic (Gilmore Girls) fits nicely into Johnson’s theory that television shows, among other things, are growing more and more complex, and that this is what viewers want. First and foremost, the more than 150 episodes that make up the seven seasons of GG are packed with what the writers call “Gilmore-isms”—“witty and memorable wordplays and pop culture references.” As I sit here, flipping through the “Your Guide to Gilmore-isms” for Season 2, which includes the explanations of such specific references as “Cujo” (“the rabies infested canine from the Stephen King novel and film”) and “I Like Ike” (“campaign slogan of Dwight D. Eisenhower, President of the USA from 1953-1961”), I ponder how many of the show’s viewers actually consult these guides. Certainly, they would be able to pick up on more of the “in-jokes” that went unnoticed the first time around; thus, they would get more enjoyment out of the episodes with repeated viewings—a surefire sign of the show’s complexity. But is my sister Stephanie (GG aficionada from below) the only one that is willing to spend mucho money on the complete seasons on DVD? Upon further research, I found that the answer to this question is a resounding “no.” In fact, 589,638 copies of the Complete Seventh Season had been sold after just two weeks on the shelves, which amounts to more than 20 million dollars in total sales. Johnson’s theories in mind, it’s no wonder GG lasted so long with its smart, witty, fast-paced, hard-to-follow dialogue that apparently captivated a large DVD-buying audience eager to keep up.
Nachbar, Jack, and Kevin Lause. "Getting to Know Us. An Introduction to the Study of Popular Culture: What is this Stuff that Dreams are Made of?" Popular Culture: An Introductory Text. Bowling Green State University Press, 1992.
"Violent Video Games--Psychologists Help Protect Children from Harmful Effects." Psychology Matters. 8 June 2004. American Psychological Association. 8 Dec. 2007
http://the-numbers.com/dvd/charts/weekly/thisweek.php
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