Don’t drink the river

An increasing number of people are complaining about it. A Google search of the term returns some four million results. “Information overload” is not up there with Britney Spears, but it’s sizeable enough to warrant (merit?) these thoughts.

I just can’t help smiling each and every time I hear or read the term “information overload” — as if there were ever a time when one could assimilate all information. That information is more readily available has, no doubt, much to do with the misconception (myth?) that is info-overload.

Of course, you don’t need to be online to suffer from delusions of information overload. I’m scribbling these thoughts in a relatively busy café. I’ve just counted 33 and a half people, excluding staff, many of whom are engaged in conversation. A generic song plays over tobacco-stained ceiling speakers, the espresso machine is doing its chugging and cashuuuing thing, trays are clacking, the air conditioner humming to the feint chorus of passers-by; the sliding doors rolling back and forth — a giant volume knob to the outside. Any attempt to assimilate every element of this cacophony, in just the 100 or so square meters that surrounds me, would be futile.

In these everyday, prosaic situations, we unconsciously select — filter in & filter out those incoming stimuli. Information is defined as “a message received and understood.” That’s the crux. The remainder (that which is not received/assimilated) is not in fact information. A missed tweet, an unread email, RSS feeds piling up in your reader; it’s not information.

Each year, in the US alone, some 200,000 books are published. At a rate of one book per day, it would take you some 548 years to read them all. Even with the aid of numerous double-espressos and several reincarnations, you’d be hard pressed to keep up.

Missed ‘information’ will not bring the sky crashing down. Information is a fast flowing and deep stream. The secret is to take sips — there’s no need to drink the river.

Just a thought.