Books Have Gotten Stupider
Just Kidding, But Now That I Have Your Attention
** This piece was cross-published on my Substack **
Have books gotten stupider, or have we?
Looking at cultural shifts, publishing advancements, and survivorship bias, we can come to some sort of reasoning as to why we feel the way we do about the literature we consume today when compared to literature from the past.
In this essay, I wanted to speak about the idea that books of today seem less complex than those from the bygone eras of literature. Why is it that books today seem less complex than books from decades or centuries ago?
Language and Complexity in Books
The “Books Were Better” Days of Literature:
In the 19th and 20th century, literature hit a wavelength where there were enough educated people to enjoy reading and enough intellectuals to write the books to be read. Literature was seen as a sophisticated pursuit. Many writers of yesteryear — such as Charles Dickens, Ernest Hemingway, and Virginia Woolf— mastered their craft with complex narratives and intricate prose. Their works exist as a testament to literature’s ability to peer into the human experience and remain as study material in English classes all over.
Authors of the olden days had many more hurdles to get through to become published, so it makes logical sense that they were the “best of the best” (or at least had rich connections or were rich themselves, but that hasn’t changed in today’s time either). Publishing was even more rare in 19th and 20th centuries than in our modern time is my point.
Dickens is known for his richly detailed prose and intricate, often exaggerated descriptions, blending humor with social criticism. His works are filled with vivid characters, complex plots, and a sense of moral urgency. His books were instant classics for a reason. He is one of the most talented writers, and comparing any writer to someone hailed as “one of the greatest” seems almost unfair, doesn’t it?
Woolf employs a more fluid, introspective approach, using stream-of-consciousness techniques and intricate narrative structures. Prose in her novels often shifts between characters’ thoughts and emotions as she focused on character development over plot. She is regarded as being another one of the greats.
Hemingway (who I share a lot of writing philosophy with) is famous for his minimalist, direct style, characterized by short, declarative sentences and a focus on simple, yet profound, language. His “Iceberg Theory” suggests that much of the meaning lies beneath the surface, allowing readers to interpret the unspoken. Hemingway is another one of the greats which we study a lot of.
To Hemingway specifically, I wonder why he is applauded for simplicity when modern books seem chastised for it. Culturally, other writers of his time were much more long-winded than he was, so perhaps sticking out in this manner gave him a leg up. Modern writers who write long-winded often get blasted for “purple prose” though, so it doesn’t seem to flow both ways, but I digress.
The “Books Are Worse” Days of Literature
Modern writers often seem to get criticized for their use of conversational language, simple narratives, and formulaic structure. While I do agree that some genres have lent themselves to formulaic structure, I do not consider that to be a bad thing at all.
In another essay topic, perhaps I would discuss the behemoth of the Romance genre and why formulaic construction has helped it blossom to the heights it has reached. But here, I would contrast some modern writers to that of those aforementioned writers.
I want to start with Sarah J. Maas. She is a polarizing author in fantasy, romance, and romantasy spaces. People either love her or hate her. I’ve heard her described as a bad writer but good storyteller. Her writing blends fantasy worldbuilding with romance and action, often using many adjectives to create atmospheric settings and intense emotional dynamics. There is a focus on character growth and complex relationships. Her works typically feature strong female characters in morally ambiguous worlds. Her prose, in my view, is meant to be simpler and concise for palatability.
Then I wanted to mention Suzanne Collins. The Hunger Games series adopted a stripped-down, fast-paced writing style which emphasized immediacy and tension. The prose is often straightforward and short as a result. While the writing is more functional than decorative, it is effective in conveying the realities of the world her characters inhabit. The simplicity made the story more effective. The original trilogy of books was so captivating because of her writing style that I read them all back to back in, like, a day. Something no other series has been able to do for me.
Finally, I’ll mention John Green. He holds a special place in my heart as a writer I emulated in my earlier years after reading some of his works. His writing is conversational in nature to me and yet introspective and poignant at times. Witty dialogue, banter, and a focus on grand questions all blended through Green’s accessible prose. I think his style is best known for the emotional resonance and ability to handle these deeper topics with casual, simple prose that is filled with empathy and humour, showcasing that simplicity is still capable of doing heavy literary lifting.
None of these “simplicity” points are negative points either. I think we have this connotation in writing spaces that simple means bad. It doesn’t. Simplicity can work wonders for effectivity, especially in certain genres, but the overall trend towards simplification of writing is still evident.
A Tale of Two Excerpts
To help illuminate my point on the differences between old and new, I would compare this opening from Charles Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities — widely regarded as a brilliant opening — to a rewrite by a modern writer.
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way — in short, the period was so far like the present period that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.
But here’s how I would perhaps have written it:
It was the best and worst of times. An age of wisdom and foolishness. It was a time of belief and doubt, a time of light and of darkness. It was a hopeful spring and a desperate winter. We had everything — and nothing. We were all going to heaven and to hell. It was, in many ways, the same as now, with loud voices telling us everything was either the best or worst it could be.
Dickens’ opening is 119 words, and my rewrite is 76. I think it helps to illustrate the idea that modern writers trend towards writing less as more where older writers wrote more as more. We will examine these points more next.
The Influence of the Modern World
Attention Spans and Gratification
Modern writers want to be concise and to the point because we are duelling with attention spans and a hundred other ways of spending people’s time. We are taught to be mindful of this, and we are taught not to waste time with meaningless filler. Or, in wiser words, why use many word when few word do trick?
The rise of digital and social media has led to a shift in how we engage with information — and by extension literature — through faster, bite-sized content. There is a reason why Twitter (X) has been so sticky as a social media site and why TikTok has exploded in popularity.
This focus on quicker and quicker bits of information has resulted in modern writing becoming even more focused on transmitting the most information in the least amount of words. Compounding factors like this lead to a decreased attention span as we move from one thing rapidly to the next.
The growth of clickbait articles and listicles are, in some way, shaping the way we consume written material. Whether we think so or not, this affects the way we read novels and how they are crafted too. Language is a result of use and exposure after all. Ultimately, this media environment encourages brevity and instant gratification.
Authors, perhaps without meaning to, adopt these styles. It is perhaps no wonder that we see novels crafted with shorter chapters to become more consumable in short bursts or novels crafted with shorter sentences, less descriptive prose. We align ourselves to the prevailing culture of writing so that our stories may be snacked on rather than demanding an extended period of concentrated reading. Maybe we should bring back mandatory silent reading time?
I think the rise of things like Booktok also help to illustrate that books have become trendy in some circles and, as such, risk being purchased for gratification rather than any reflection. This leads to “pulp fiction” and formulaic novels as stories get churned out quicker and quicker.
And this is where I really need to emphasize that I don’t think there is anything wrong with instant gratification that comes with reading books. Reading can be a beautiful form of escapism in any case, but there remains something to be said for the way in which reading has become commoditized.
Even novellas are making a push as a means for authors to publish more titles. Novellas are an easier sell to the consumer because less of their time will be spent on reading for the same gratification. And, I wonder, if writing becomes flooded with novellas, will prose continue to become even more simplistic in the search for brevity and information condensing?
Self-Publishing and the Democratization of Writing
Now, this is a topic that is always being fiercely debated on whether self-publishing is an overall positive or not. Yes, it allows people to publish literal slop, but it also allows marginalized writers a voice. As a self-published author, I am obviously very pro-self-publishing, but I see the concerns with it too.
The rise of these self-publishing platforms, like KDP, led to an explosion of accessible means of pushing a written work out to the masses. E-book support, paperback, and hardcover as available options means self-published authors can now have the same products as the traditionally published counterparts — often to a similar degree of quality too.
Indie authors, as we are so called, saturate the market now. While I do not have the numbers, I would have to imagine the vast bulk of literature being published is coming from self-published writers.
Now, as I mentioned before, purple prose is a common critique levelled against writers who exhibit a wordy, descriptive prose. These come through in reader reviews as complaints. But what I have noticed (from social media, not reviews) is that people have very conflicting ideas about what constitutes purple prose, and if this comes through in reviews, perhaps people are being pushed away from wordy prose for no good reason.
Older writers were praised for wordiness as it showcased their intellect and, of course, sometimes were paid by the word, so there was a financial incentive to be wordy and drag the story out so that more could be written as a means of securing a cheque. Further, older writers would likely be generally smart and hold a larger vocabulary since reading was a tough pastime to hold back in the day.
Newer writers, by comparison, grew up in a time where many countries hold nearly a 100% literacy rate. Since so many people can read and write, it makes reading more accessible. And with self-publishing, anybody who can write and read can publish a book for free and have it available for sale. Essentially, it means anybody can publish a novel — and they do.
This democratization of writing is a net positive, but it still lends itself to more and more simplification. If highly educated people are no longer the only people writing books, it goes to say that more and more layman’s terminology and casual language will therefore enter literature. People will then read that language and adjust their own vernacular accordingly. The cycle will repeat. This is a form of how language changes, and it is a feature, not a bug.
The Writing of the Past
Selection Bias in Literary History
One of the things we should keep in mind when comparing the contemporary to the ancient is that survivorship and selection biases play an absolutely monumental role in what items from the past survive into the present.
Perhaps the best example to be observed by the general public occurs within music. We do not have the societal or cultural bandwidth to keep every single song around. While everybody knows of The Beatles, nobody knows who The Ivy League were. Similarly, then, we see in literature that the “greats” are held and kept and studied as writers who made a significant and lasting impact but who only represent a small fraction of overall literary output.
What this all means is that a lot of works are left to gather dust in the past. The entire movement of “lost media” is aimed around this very idea. Media that is lost to time, hard to find, and forgotten. Many long-dead authors have published works that will never be read again.
We will never truly know if perhaps contemporary writers of the 19th century were more simplistic when academia has decreed only certain writers were worth keeping around. It’s a wonder to me what authors may exist today that will be studied in a hundred years, surely, none of us indies will make the cut because of the way the intellectual literary world seems to work — we should still aim for it though.
It begs the question if many works from previous eras were actually simple or derivative like we claim works of today are despite the past works’ seeming complexity. What if we simply lack the cultural context clues to understand how unimportant the works actually are and that they were simply in the right place at the right time to remain culturally relevant?
Maybe it was a simple matter of timing. A book can be published at the right time to capture a particular moment or sentiment and be remain a key cultural item in the zeitgeist forever. If this is the case, it may not be that a book or author is “better” than others but that they were publishing the right things at the right time to capture the right feeling. This is how they could have retained their cultural status well beyond their contemporaries.
Why We Ignore the Mediocrity of the Past
Books were not always ignored because they were bad. There are examples of bad books surviving through the years to be talked about in the modern era. A good example might be Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand, a book generally disliked at the time it was written but survived for some reason or another.
A better example of a book forgotten is a book remembered only for its infamy in being completely terrible, and that is Irene Iddesleigh written by Amanda McKittrick Ros in 1897. This book received terrible reviews from critics and mostly died out completely and is now mostly remembered for how terrible of a book it is.
When books are panned in this manner, they will generally fade away into the background, off into obscurity from whence they came. And why do books simple disappear when they’re deemed to lack literary merit? Well, it’s simple, it’s literary canon.
Literary canon is constructed, not just by quality, but by who had and has the power to shape it. For a long time in the West, that meant old, rich, white men. And even today, it still means that mostly. Stuffy, pretentious folks who care more for words like “verdigris” than meaningful contributions to literature from voices they don’t personally align with.
When the literary canon is devised by an oligarchy of academics, their biases will come through and shape the way the rest of us view “real” literature too, and thus we come to the point where we view modern novels in the same lens as the older ones deemed to be better. That’s an unfair fight for the modern novelist.
Dickens has had decades of study and praise. I’ve been writing for ten years and will maybe never be successful. Don’t compare me to him at all. Let me tell my silly stories. Sometimes good, sometimes bad, and yet always worth the effort.
All of it blends together to create a myth of a “golden age” or some bygone time when books were just better than they are now. There were probably as many drab, dull, boring, and mediocre works back then as there are today, but our rose-tinted nostalgia glasses and selection/survivorship biases won’t let us admit it.
Nostalgia and Shifts
We have a romanticized view of the past. “Things back in the day were just better.” The human brain has a way of subconsciously making us believe that’s true too, which is devious for it to do. The past isn’t better or worse for books, no matter how rosy we paint the past in our mind. So, in effect, the complexity we think we see is really no more than a convincing illusion.
Imagining books from earlier centuries as inherently more sophisticated because we didn’t have to wade through the lesser-known, poorly-written works of the time period seems disingenuous to me. Plus, there’s a good dose a romanization of the past as a different time period. We love stories from olden times, and so writers of those times hold an allure too.
The other aspect, of course, is the changing cultural contexts and how language usage shifts. What was complex in one era may not be so in another because of cultural change, which could include something like racial and gender inclusivity.
The point being made is how modern writing has changed in many ways, and writing responds to real-world shifts as cultural priorities change. As different cultural values become apparent, authors will impart these values in their writing and through the prose itself in some manner.
So, we know that the past has a selection bias and that nostalgia makes us view these past works as rosier than they potentially were in actuality. We know what generally makes a good book of yesteryear, but what about today?
The Writing of Today
I wonder about why some people view books of today as stupider when really it’s all a matter of perspective and cultural shift. When we say that there is stupidity in books, what do we mean? Are we referring to oversimplification in literature, the result of cultural appetites changing, or an intentional stylistic choice? All three? Is it really no more than a shift in language and, therefore, a shift in written word itself?
The real argument to make about simple writing is that complexity doesn’t always denote good. Complex writing can be bad — and honestly often is. When we say we want complex writing, I think this is a colloquialism wherein we mean we want complex stories with intricate plots and emotionally deep characters.
I do not think complex prose is of value on its own. Simplistic writing may serve a better purpose anyway. It is more accessible to more people, allowing more people the chance to read and enjoy literature. Many times, we are not sacrificing emotional impact by not using ten-dollar words, and to pretend like simplistic prose has less merit than complex prose is literarily silly.
I believe that literary culture is shifting towards simpler language as a result of the democratization of writing and the availability of reading materials coupled with a reduced attention span and the advent of other modern writing styles. These things are good. We have never had as many authors — nor as many diverse voices — publishing novels as we do today, and more authors publish their first novels all the time. All this is contributing to a growing, modern literary canon aimed at everybody rather than the select groups of academic elites.
Further, the simplicity we see in modern writing casts a wider net to a wider range of readers, including those who were historically excluded from the literary canon. Decrying simplicity in writing sounds almost as if some people are stating that they would rather keep classism in literature than open the doors to accessibility.
Diversity of style and audience in today’s literary world aims to include more people in reading and writing. I think simplicity is part of a natural progression in making reading more accessible, focusing more on inclusivity rather than artificially concocted literary merit.
And, I mean, it’s art at the end of the day, and art is subjective. Simple or complex. We like what we like, and authors will shift their writing styles to align with the reading appetite anyway because authors are readers first too. That is to say, authors understand the way language changes and they change their writing with it.
Conclusion
While today’s books may seem “stupider” in comparison to older works, this trend may be influenced by multiple factors, including publishing changes, cultural shifts, and the literary canon as we have outlined.
As we look ahead, it’s clear that literature will continue to evolve — perhaps in ways we cannot predict. Will future generations of authors and readers look back at our writing with wonder at our complexities or laugh at our simplicity? Will they render works from Dickens unreadable in its intricacy? Will they forgo reading entirely for visual mediums?
We don’t know, and we don’t need to. Our job is to continue to create and write and read. It is to share our stories with the world. Maybe some of them escape our lifetimes and live on for hundreds of years. Maybe they die before we do.
All this to say that we should appreciate literature in all its forms — whether we deem it simple or complex — and to remain open-minded about the future of literature because we really have no idea how it may change in the future.
Writing has always been one of humanity’s greatest achievements, so let’s keep figuring our new ways to enjoy it.
Yours truly,
D.
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