compassion is punk rock

But then capitalism got its hands on it, and the strength that was probably designed to help rescue people from collapsed buildings and crumpled transports was instead turned towards enforcement, and the expressive, comforting face had to be covered up with a scary opaque helmet

When I asked why, a student answered honestly: It was too long, and she kept losing track of what the paper was about. This was not a remedial class: These were students who had cleared the admissions process and written essays good enough to get them here. Yet a routine academic reading assignment had defeated them.

Every generation of professors has complained that their students cannot read. The lament is usually overblown, but data have caught up to anecdote, and what I am seeing in my classroom is no longer a hunch. There is a measurable, generational collapse in sustained reading and writing, and the academy is responding to it with improvisation and exhaustion rather than the structural overhaul it requires.

In February 2024, Adam Kotsko, who teaches in the Shimer Great Books School at North Central College, wrote in Slate that students who once handled 30 pages of reading per class meeting now seem “intimidated by anything over 10 pages and seem to walk away from readings of as little as 20 pages with no real understanding.” Crucially, he added that this is “not a matter of laziness on the part of the students” but of underlying skills they were never given a chance to build.

The Chronicle of Higher Education’s 2024 investigation found the same pattern across institutions as different as the Stevens Institute of Technology and Wellesley College, where the average SAT exceeds 1400. Nicholaus Gutierrez, an assistant professor at Wellesley, told The Chronicle that the baseline for what students consider a reasonable amount of work has dropped so noticeably that he has cut his readings accordingly; a 750-word essay now strikes many students as long. At Stevens, the science and technology studies associate professor Theresa MacPhail described following the mantra of “meet your students where they are” for so long that she has begun to feel “like a cruise director organizing games of shuffleboard.”

Worse, the national data tell the same story in colder language. On the 2011 National Assessment of Educational Progress (NAEP) writing assessment, which is the most recent comprehensive writing benchmark, only 24 percent of 12th graders reached the Proficient level, and just 3 percent reached Advanced; another 21 percent scored below Basic. The reading side of the ledger is worse, and getting worse fast: The 2024 NAEP results released in September 2025 show 12th-grade reading scores at the lowest level recorded since the assessment began in 1992. Thirty-two percent of 12th graders now score below NAEP Basic in reading, meaning that, in the assessment’s own language, they likely “cannot draw general conclusions based on concepts presented explicitly in a text.” And yet more than half of these same seniors reported being accepted to a four-year college. That last sentence is the whole problem in one line: We are admitting a cohort that cannot read at a college level and are pretending otherwise.

Why is this happening? One reason, of course, is smartphones.

I came into teaching as a skeptic of the anti-smartphone argument: I had a phone in my pocket throughout high school and college in the 2010s, and I read long books anyway. I now think I was wrong, because the neuroscience has caught up. In a 2017 paper, Adrian F. Ward and colleagues at the University of Texas at Austin’s McCombs School of Business showed that the mere presence of a participant’s smartphone — whether that be face down, powered off, untouched, or across the desk out of vision — measurably reduces available working memory and fluid intelligence on cognitive tests, with the largest effects on the most phone-dependent users. A 2022 study by Motoyasu Honma and colleagues at Japan’s Showa University used near-infrared spectroscopy to compare reading on a smartphone with reading the same passage on paper, and found that smartphone reading produced overactivity in the prefrontal cortex, suppressed sigh generation, and led to general lower comprehension scores; the authors argued that the sigh inhibition and prefrontal overload were causally linked to the comprehension decline.

So when a student tells me they “kept losing track” of a 20-page article, I have to acknowledge that they may be describing a measurable neurological condition. The neural pathways that support sustained attention are built by use, and they atrophy without it. Your body is a use-it-or-lose-it system, and the brain is no exception.

Another reason for the decline in student reading capability is increasing reliance on generative AI. In June 2025, Nataliya Kosmyna and colleagues at the MIT Media Lab released a preprint titled “Your Brain on ChatGPT.” They divided 54 participants into three groups writing SAT-style essays — one using ChatGPT, the second group using a search engine, the last group using nothing — and monitored brain activity with a 32-channel EEG. The ChatGPT group showed the lowest neural connectivity of the three, with up to 55 percent reduced connectivity compared with the brain-only group, and “consistently underperformed at neural, linguistic, and behavioral levels.” Eighty-three percent of LLM users could not quote a single line from essays they had written minutes earlier. When the LLM group was forced to write without AI in a follow-up session, their brain activity did not bounce back to baseline; the researchers coined the term “cognitive debt” for the lingering deficit.

This is the first neurophysiological evidence that early reliance on LLMs measurably alters the brain’s engagement with writing tasks, and it is consistent with what those of us in front of classrooms are watching happen in real time. When I assign analysis, I am not trying to extract a polished product; I am trying to put the student’s mind through resistance in order to make it stronger. Offloading the struggle to a chatbot does not “free students up for higher-order work.” It deprives them of building the strength to do any substantial cognitive work at all.

There is a final factor that is contributing to this decline in reading skills, and that is that the students arriving in my classroom today are the first cohort to have experienced Common Core-influenced reading instruction across the entirety of their K–12 schooling. Whatever the standards’ original intent, the on-the-ground implementation in many districts replaced sustained reading with the practice of pulling “evidence” from disconnected short passages, the same format used on the standardized tests that increasingly determine school funding. The education scholar Natalie Wexler, among others, has documented this pivot in detail: Students drilled on “finding the main idea” in two-paragraph excerpts never build the stamina or background knowledge that longform reading requires. The pandemic then added fuel to a fire that was already burning. NAEP scores for 13-year-olds dropped sharply in 2022 and have not recovered. A 2023 EdWeek survey found that 24 percent of secondary-school administrators described pandemic learning loss in English and language arts as “severe or very severe.”

In July 2025, the journalist Mary Harrington argued in The New York Times that “thinking is becoming a luxury good.” The ability to read deeply and reason at length is fragmenting along class lines as ultra-processed digital media replaces text in everyday life, much as ultra-processed food has replaced cooking. Her longer treatment of the subject in First Things makes the more provocative case that we are witnessing the end of print culture itself, and with it the end of the cognitive substrate on which modern liberal democracy was built.

I see this stratification in the classroom and on the page every week. My students from districts that protected sustained reading through small class sizes, strict phone policies, and faculty who refused to teach to the test all arrive with their attention relatively intact. My students from districts that surrendered to devices and standardized testing arrive cognitively winded. A democracy that requires a literate electorate is now training one fraction of that electorate out of literacy while marketing to the other a “deep work” lifestyle as a luxury good. The students who cannot read a 20-page article today are the voters who will not be able to read a bill, or the jurors who cannot follow a closing argument, tomorrow.

I do what I can in my own classroom to address the problems. I break 20-page articles into two halves and assign the first half with explicit analytical tasks. I require exploratory writing before formal drafts. I model (visibly, on the board) how to track an argument across pages or distinguish a source’s claim from my own analysis. I make structured peer review explicit, because the workshop format I used to take for granted now collapses into “this is good” and “maybe add more details” the moment I step back.

But I want to be plain about the limits of what an individual instructor can do, and all of these solutions have costs. Scaffolding a 20-page article into halves compromises the integrity of the argument I am asking students to engage, just as modeling note-taking in a credit-bearing rhetoric course is using a college slot to teach a middle-school skill. None of the syllabi I teach are designed to deliver this type of cognitive rehabilitation, and pretending otherwise has produced credential inflation. We cannot keep conferring degrees on students who cannot do what the degree is supposed to certify.

I’m afraid I don’t have answers. I do, however, have some questions that may point us in the right direction. If higher education is going to respond to the reading crisis as a structural problem rather than a private burden carried by composition instructors and adjuncts, it has to stop avoiding the following questions: If a majority of incoming students cannot read at a level the curriculum requires, are we admitting students we cannot serve, or offering a curriculum we cannot provide?

Why are first-year writing and reading-intensive general-education courses still the most adjunctified, lowest-paid, highest-load corner of the university, at the precise moment when their work has become the most important work the institution does? What is the responsible institutional response for AI usage: Is it a syllabus statement, or a sequencing principle that requires students to demonstrate the cognitive work themselves before AI assistance is permitted?

Why are most college classrooms still phone-permissive by default? K–12 districts from Florida to California are now banning phones bell to bell; higher education has somehow lagged behind the public schools. Universities benefit from a pipeline they did not build and refuse to repair. What would it mean for a university system to invest seriously in the reading instruction happening in the high schools that feed it, rather than treating remediation as something to be quietly outsourced to first-year composition instructors?

The thing I am no longer willing to do is pretend this is a temporary adjustment period, or that “students will adapt.” They will not adapt on their own. The conditions that produced this collapse are still in place: the phones, the algorithmic feeds, the test-prep excerpts, staffing models that load the reading-intensive work onto the most precarious faculty, and now the chatbots that finish students’ sentences before they’ve even begun to think of them. If we want literate citizens, we will have to rebuild the conditions for literacy deliberately, against the grain of every incentive currently pointed the other way. I know the academy has the will to do that. It also has the obligation."

— Tyler Jagt, 1 June 2026, "My Students Can’t Read"

Murderbot: no. we fucking hate each other.

In System Collapse, Tarik says “motherless” (as opposed to something like motherfucking) and the BE corporates say things like “lame-skulled” and while you could think those are just futuristic insults as a result of linguistic drift (which they could also be), I think they’re just literal translations. It becomes more noticeable when you see how religious terms are rendered: “oh high one! Oh deity!” Which is like…sure. They could literally be saying that. But imo it makes more sense if MB is translating something they’re saying in another language.*

I think the most notable case of this is when Thiago calls Amena “my daughter.” On first read I literally thought it was just a Preservation thing but then I realized it made a lot more sense to me (a 21st century American) if he was saying something like mija but MB was just literally translating it into its archive bc that’s how it processes language.

This is also the reason for Amena’s use of Second Mom and Third Mom. It sounds kind of clunky in English but Chinese does a similar thing which sounds perfectly natural in that language (e.g. da-ge, er-ge, san-ge for first/oldest brother, second (oldest) brother, and third (oldest) brother).

Anyway! It’s a fun little detail I really enjoy about MB. There are definitely way more examples but I didn’t have time to track them all down.

Sometimes there is the fanon interpretation of Three as being more social than Murderbot. I agree in terms of “wanting to socialize”. But I think that in terms of “having social skills” Three is even worse than Murderbot (maybe just because it’s new to being free, but still)In SC it silently points at the door to the room where its amor is kept to communicate to Murderbot that it could use its armor.

Consider:

In SC it silently points at a door to communicate to Murderbot that it could use its armor

At lest according to MB it’s not good at communicating what it wants/doesn’t want

In PD it waves in a way that even MB finds awkward

It also still uses buffer phrases when overwhelmed with communication with humans (in the end of PD)

At least MB thinks that it isn’t good at lying. (But I think that lie about wanting to go architecture sightseeing on the torus was super adorable)

I can see how, from the perspective of a cop who has grown up in Preservation culture, this must be incredibly annoying, and means even setting aside any prejudices over a SecUnit being a deadly weapon, it kind of comes across to Indah as someone who she can't trust to follow basic standards of professional ethics if it thinks it knows better.

The only way into my building is through the front door which locks itself when closed. There's a back entrance but it's deadbolted from the inside. This means the only people who can get into the building are me, my cat sitter with the spare keys, and the people living in the other two units.

The door to MY unit now... has no doorknob. Impossible to get in.

There is a shared BACK hallway that leads to the shared basement/back entrance. My back door into this hall is always deadbolted. EXCEPT, fortuitously, right now, since neighbor (Molly) in unit 2 had heard Patches meowing when alone and offered to spend some time with her, so I had the cat sitter unlock the bolt.

This, LUCKILY, means there is A Way into my unit. But it requires getting into the building, then going THROUGH my neighbors' unit into the back hall, then up to my unit.

Cat sitter is effectively locked out from Patches, and won't be able to get in if not fixed by the next day.

Text neighbor about predicament. They're willing to look at my door bUT (it's Christmas) they're not home and not getting home until the next day.

Next day, text for an update but hear nothing. (Neighbors aren't attached to their phones much). Communicate with catsitter saying "okay if I don't hear back from neighbors, maybe you go over and I contact a locksmith who you can let in?" (since cat sitter has the keys to the building)

Catsitter is very not keen on the idea

Patches is unaware she's a prisoner.

Hear back from neighbors. Say they should be home around 5pm.

Okay... Good Enough... (Patches graze-feeds so Luckily she hasn't missed any meals but we're going on 24 hours of house arrest Patches).

6pm comes. 7pm comes. 7:40pm I text asking for an update. Nothing.

8:30pm I'm figuring out what friends I can call to break into my own house. Text neighbor again and notice this text doesn't go through.

Text neighbor's partner being like "hey sorry, can't seem to reach Molly--". Get a text back "Sorry this is Molly on David's phone! My phone died." Family Christmas plans ran late but they're on their way back and will be home soon. Thank goodness.

9pm-ish, they get back, give Patches attention and top up her food. I get a text "David fixed your door!" Woo!

Friday 5pm I finally get home

Lugging my suitcase up three flights of stairs while I hear Patches meowing like a dying Victorian child

Shoes off coat off suitcase down fish out keys unlock door grab doorknob

...Doorknob falls off

Falls off right into my hands

Staring at doorknob. Staring at door. Patches meowing. Shove doorknob against door like an idiot and no it does not go back on.

Fucking

Go down flight of stairs, knock on Molly and David's door. David is luckily home. "My doorknob fell off again can I go home"

David lets me in. I scoot past their dogs and apparently I startled the more nervous one since she apparently tried to nip at me but I didn't even notice because I'm like my cat.

Get in through the back hall.

Patches comes bounding over.

My cat.

Doesn't even know she was a prisoner.

Doesn't even know what a doorknob is.

Later that night receive a text from neighbor apologizing for the dog and I'm like "I Did Not Even Notice."

Any attempt to leave my house now is perilous until I fix the doorknob.

Can't even leave my door cracked open because I know Patches is gonna shove her stupid little face through it and become the opposite of a prisoner.

I wanna go buy a reeces peanut butter cup but by god it's not worth the risk

I'm gonna try to fix the doorknob

Or... buy? a new doorknob?

On Amazon searching "doorknob".

You are completely right because I have now investigated the knob and can confirm the screw holding the knob to bar was loose. I have tightened the screw and it SEEMS fixed but I’m very Fool Me Once on this since my neighbor also thought they’d fixed it.

To swap in the new knob I'd need to cut a new knob-hole an inch higher in the door which

With what tools

That would leave an unused gaping doorknob-sized hole in my door which any robber the size of a weasel or smaller will use to rob my home. I don't need fucking Redwall in my home.

Probably bad for the integrity of the door

I don't wanna.

I think what I really want is just the knob like above tags said. Like the knob and the rectangular bar, which I can substitute in for my stripped-bare knob and rectangle bar. I WOULD do this with the new knob, but it's got two welded-on spokes poking out from the knob.

I can maybe drill two holes for the spokes in my door...?

(Squinting at shitty amazon listings trying to see if any knobs don't have the two spokes)

(I think the two spokes might be standard.)

Developing new respect for Jesus (carpenter).

In the meantime, because I'd already unscrewed a lot of things I DID take the genius action of flipping my current doorknob around.

This way the side that causes problems is on the INSIDE.

Doorknob fall of while INSIDE house significantly better than doorknob fall off while OUTSIDE.

I'm retightening all the screws.

So it does!

Never heard the term "spindle doorknob" before so I never would have found this on my own.

They're also all labeled "vintage" which extra feels right since my door predates the Cambrian Explosion.

Several dozen stories of other people getting locked in/out of bathrooms/basements/classrooms/bedrooms/buildings. Extra shout out to the person whose classmate managed to do this twice, in rapid4reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeesdweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

Patches is on my keyboard

whose classmate managed to do this twice, in rapid succession, to both sides of a classroom door after being saved the first time.

Several people taking this as a sign to go tighten their doorknob screws, including someone whose knob fell off in their hands while doing this

10 or so people reading the "can't have shit in Detroit" meme to mean I live in Detroit. Sorry to confess I'm a fake Detroitite. Doxxing myself by 0.00001% more by informing the world I live in not-Detroit.

Many many people wondering why I'm not pestering my landlord about this. Truth is my landlord is way too sexy, cool, fashionable, smart, pretty, funny, and popular on Tumblr to it's me. It's me. I'm me I'm my landlord. It's my condo. Including, with immense regret, every single doorknob inside.

3 separate professional locksmiths who have reached out offering advice, which is very cool. I have burst into a virtual hardware store clutching my shit doorknob and fainted, only to be caught by three very strong and cool locksmiths rushing to my aid.

ALSO MY PAPER TOWELS

(Ran out of paper towels)

Old knob coming off.

Wretched thing. Accursed knob of woe.

Get undid

New knob reign by forceful coup. Went to great pains to PRECISELY wait Patches is escaping

Patches retrieved

Anyway GREAT care was taken to ensure both knobs are ALIGNED, EVEN, SCREWED ON, with the wait hang on

Patches retrieved again.

Anyway

DOORKNOB SCREWED ON

KNOB

But also, and this is really important to keep in mind regarding bigotry that still causes in many ways larger problems, that the structural problems are not actually fixed.

If you go to any computer lab or public library, the mice will be on the right side of the computer. Sometimes they can be moved. Sometimes they can't. Many computer mice are curved to only fit in right hands.

It is impossible to find lefthanded scissors without going to a specialty store, because most scissor makers don't even make them. And it's not just a matter of grip; the slicing side of the blades is obscured if you use righty scissors in your left hand, so your cut is off.

All those signing pads with the little chained styluses? Almost always on the right side, often not even long enough to stretch to the left. Makes signing for lefties extremely difficult.

I caused actual muscular problems in college having to twist around in order to write at right-handed desks in college when there weren't enough lefty desks--and there never were. Some classrooms didn't even have a single one.

I could go on.

The freed unit we meet in Platform Decay has no real context for anything other than MB’s log. It has no support and is so obviously a rogue SecUnit that it’s miraculous it wasn’t killed (honestly, the only reason it wasn’t killed was because it ran into MB)! Three didn’t even think to include the helpful additional codes MB gives the unit as a parting gift.

The fact of the matter is that despite having biases, I think Murderbot is very thoughtful and realistic about what’s possible. It feels very deeply for the units it encounters (hence why it has offered in the past). It doesn’t want these units harmed!

Not to mention the fact it strikes me as a bad thing for corporates to get their hands on a unit with a jailbroken GovMod.

Can the computer create something? At first glance it seems obvious that it can. Animated computer graphics, with their fluid transitions and whiplash perspectives, look strikingly new. And if one watches the machine doing animation work, there seem to be lengthy periods when the computer is acting “on its own.”

But if one observes these processes in more detail, it becomes clear that creation is not occurring within the machine. First of all, computer graphics are not unique. Computers have yet to generate anything that cannot be done by hand—and usually already has been done. Second, the apparent ability of the computer to “act on its own” is the outcome of thousands of hours of patient human effort to refine its instructions. The computer can manipulate a shape for us if we have already informed it what a shape is, what the rules for shape manipulation are, what this specific shape is, and so forth.