When did reading become so hard?

I take an hour to get through fifteen pages of Yuval Noah Harari's Nexus. That's on a good day. Every page looks like a slab of hieroglyphics, and it usually takes me three passes of one paragraph for the knowledge to sink in. I'm reading the page—I think. My eyes pass from one line to another, and I know I'm forming the letters into words, yet by the time I reach the end of the page, I realize I've lost what I just read. I sigh, restart the paragraph and try again.

This goes on a few times before I either give up or regain my focus. It is exhausting.

Maybe you were an avid reader like me, spending every evening in a book or those free-passing moments with your nose buried between the pages. Then, you got TikTok, or found Instagram Reels, or YouTube shorts. It's possible you haven't tried these apps; instead, you're battling a 9 to 5, a side-gig, and very loving yet also time-consuming relationship. You simply can't find time to read anymore, and when you do, you're too distracted to get anything out of it. You stumble into reading fatigue, and the cycle continues.

How did this happen? How did we reach a point where reading seems impossible? Why does reading seem so boring nowadays?

To put it simply, we found cooler toys. Books are simple creatures, and they feed your imagination more than anything else. Sure, you can get a thrill from an action novel. You can get that thrill a hundred times over shooting down helicopters in GTA. You may bite your tongue over a steamy romance, or you could buy an AI partner that will make you its muse. Even non-fiction books like encyclopedias or textbooks aren't safe, because YouTubers and influencers thrive off of simple "Did you know?" videos.

These new mediums are fun, but I'm drained after scrolling for an hour. I learned nothing useful, instead letting an algorithm distract me. I feel more agitated after a gaming rampage. The needs that these platforms are trying to fill instead feel more empty than ever, even though they feel so fulfilling in the moment. Meanwhile, our books collect dust and our mind craves more of the new toys.

The Dopamine Connection

This meaningless desire is all caused by one substance: dopamine. If you're unfamiliar, dopamine is like your battery, giving you energy and recharging through nourishment and activities. If you know anything about batteries, you also know that your phone will charge quickly with a laptop charger. It'll also die faster. The sheer power of the device fries it.

That's your brain on these substances. Video games burn through dopamine, leaving to a need for even more to be released. Suddenly you're stuck in a loop. Your brain charges quickly with these high-powered inputs—but you burn out just as fast, leaving a craving for more.

Not all activities will do this, though. Exercise is one of the healthy releases. Anything that you find enjoyable can create a dopamine cycle—reading included—but tailor-made activities like video games or substance use are all-powerful. Once you start that habit, you'll crave it more and more. If it's powerful enough, it'll become addictive.

I'm prone to getting dopamine-hijacked. When I'm reading a good action novel, I'll get so sucked in that hours go by in minutes, but Nexus, an informational book I've eyed for months, escapes me. My dopamine need is so high nowadays because of these all-powerful drugs that I can't focus, even when I want to. Distractions rise to my mind, filling my chest and overtaking my imagination with images of killing giant bugs or scroll, scroll, scroll. I'll open a short-video app unconsciously, like a zombie feeding on useless animated factoids. How do I cleanse this? How do I make reading easy again?

Reading as an Exercise

Reading is like a muscle in this sense. Like exercise, page-turning can become addictive, and it's not the act of scanning a page that excites us. Our imagination fuels our interest, turning these stories into marvels within our mind. Just like exercise, our imagination needs to be developed and conditioned. If you take a long break, you may not be as comfortable reading at the level that you used to. Imagine some books as dumbbells, where a picture book like Where the Wild Things Are may weigh 5 pounds and Les Miserables, 50 pounds. There may have been a time where you could lift that 50 pounds with ease, but you didn't condition your mind and your imagination. You're not down to 5 pounds, but you'll strain yourself lifting the heavy weight. Somewhere in the middle, something engaging like the Rebecca Yarros' Fourth Wing may be the weight you should take on.

The strength will come back to you with time. When I struggle to read Nexus, I turn to action novels that give my imagination a bit of a warm-up. I used to give up, turn to scrolling, and feel more exhausted than ever as though I'd strained my reading muscle, but with a warm-up book I find my footing and can pace myself exactly how I need to.

Wherever you are on your reading journey, don't overdo it. Don't under-do it, either. Challenge yourself, because that challenge feeds your dopamine drive. Give yourself a warm-up period, cut away those temptations, and enjoy. The books are still waiting. Your imagination is, too.