Intro
“But I learn so much from Fortnite! I’ve gained invaluable lessons about teamwork and perseverance,” exclaimed the irritated student. I immediately recognized the argument because I’ve used it on myself many times. I used to justify my copious entertainment by saying, “everything has an educational value.” I’m sure you’ve heard these arguments too: fishermen claiming their hobby is the best teacher of patience; fans of Criminal Minds pointing out the abnormal psychology they otherwise wouldn’t have learned. The argument always made me uncomfortable–that it was somehow wrong. Luckily, I now have the words to articulate my distress.
The Macronutrients of Content
I’ve come to think of content like food; a candy bar and a salad may have the same amount of calories, but they will not have the same impact on my health. In other words, content, like foods, have different nutritional values.
Life is most enjoyable and energizing when I’m having insights or solving problems. Since knowledge compounds, consuming nutrient-dense content is the ultimate self-care. So, I’ve created a framework to help me do just that. I call this framework RITS (yes, like the cracker) after the four macronutrients: returns, time, strength, and inspiration.
Returns
When thinking about a piece of content, like a movie, book, play, or conversation, I ask myself, “what do I expect to get out of this?”. Take Schindler’s List: I expect to gain a deeper understanding of wartime Germany and engage with compelling philosophical questions. But, in the case of Jersey Shore, I expect to learn about the romantic lives of hedonists from New Jersey.
Next, I ask myself, “If I’m right, is it worth my time?”. For Schindler’s List, yes, that sounds like an interesting use of my time! For the Jersey Shore, no thanks.
Of course, I often get this wrong. It’s hard to predict the future. But, setting an intention short-circuits my monkey-mind and lets my rational brain take control. Thought should precede action, although that doesn’t seem to be the default mode of existence.
Inspiration
Besides the apparent value of learning more about a topic, consider how much the content will inspire you. Even if a book doesn’t cover much new information, it’s still valuable if it inspires you to learn more. The best way to predict a content’s inspirational value is to consider how you’ve responded to the medium before. For example, novels, biographies, and conversations about ideas are what generally “pumps me up”.
Building awareness about what types of content give you energy is the best way to predict if a new piece of content will inspire you.
Time
Content that takes forever to absorb is useless. If it took me all day to eat a salad, I’d choose the candy bar! Back to the original example with Fortnite, I have no doubt it instills valuable lessons about teamwork and perseverance. But, for the student in question, is 5 hours per day a worthwhile investment for those lessons? If their goal is really to learn teamwork and perseverance, I’m sure there are more efficient paths to that same goal.
Strength
Lastly, I try to predict how strongly the experience will be encoded into my memory. An experience is only as valuable as the lessons and memories I can use later.
As Claudia Hammond explains in her book Time Warped, activities that feel short in the moment feel long in our memory; conversely, activities that feel long in the moment feel short in our memory.
A 2-hour dinner party with your friends might feel like it’s flying by–you’re having great conversations while the smell of fresh foods wafts through the dining room. Before you know it, the hosts are cleaning up and folks are walking out the door. But, when you think about the party the next day, it feels like the longest part of your day.
Or, sitting through a lecture may feel excruciatingly long. You check the clock but time seems to stand still. But, when you reflect on the experience later, it feels short and empty. Psychologists hypothesize that this is due to the number of memories associated with the experience. Active, vibrant experiences “fly by” because we’re busy creating memories instead of thinking about the passage of time. “Boring” activities don’t have many associated memories, so we believe the experience was short and unimportant. In other words, our brains estimate the length of activities by how many related memories it can recall.
So, I value engaging pursuits that feel long in retrospect because I’m optimizing for a life full of memories. Rich, flow-inducing activities like writing or debating are much more valuable than passive activities like television or podcasts. To understand which actions create high-density memories in your life, reflect on your day by writing everything you can remember from each of your activities.
Conclusion
When I became deeply interested in physics during high school, the world suddenly felt more alive because I understood the most basic units of reality. When I started tearing through psychology textbooks in college, I found a deeper appreciation for other people because I understood humanity’s underlying software. That’s why this framework matters. I prefer to engage with high-quality, nutritious content because the resulting awe never fades. As I learn more, I see connections in everything. My appreciation accelerates. The world feels more full–and I wish it for everyone.