A friend of mine from ages ago -- the Sixties, as a matter of fact -- told me about his experience working in the housewares department of a huge department store in Houston. We were both in grad school then. It turned out that customers purchased editions of works of writers by the size of the shelves in their living rooms.
I recalled this anecdote recently while listening to an episode of the podcasts of Tyler Cowen. Tyler's guest used the phrase that is the title of this post. He was referring to the way that most people apprehended the world around them.
I noticed some time ago that many of my liberal acquaintances, even friends, do not read books. There are not shelves of books in their homes. They might belong to a book club and read a novel once a week. They may even subscribe to the New Yorker. The husband of friend once told me, very proudly, that he read three newspapers a day. This was his way of saying he was informed. I said that reading newspapers was not reading. (This man had also told me that he found articles in the New Yorker too long)
People talk constantly on cell phones. Clearly people have a desire to talk to others. Hardly anyone reads on the subway. They use devices to communicate. It's like in the ages before "modern forms" of communication: everything is nevertheless spread quickly. Rumors, passed along digitally.
