The kids aren’t alright, and haven’t been for a while now. Literacy rates are falling, attention spans are in the gutter, and we’re actively taking an axe to the education system while acting shocked by the outcome. This didn’t happen overnight. It’s been a slow burn.

Reading levels are down. Writing is worse. Critical thinking feels nearly nonexistent. And we keep asking the same empty question like we don’t already know the answer.

What went wrong?

We did.

We Gutted Education and Called It Reform

Public education’s been stripped for parts. In news that should surprise quite literally no one, teachers remain underpaid and overworked. Arts programs get cut first. Libraries close with barely a headline. Curriculum gets flattened into test prep and obedience training.

And there’s an uncomfortable thought nobody wants to say out loud. Did we decide we had too many college educated people? Too many people who knew how to question systems instead of just functioning inside them? Too many people asking why instead of following instructions?

People who think critically are inconvenient, while people who comply without asking questions are efficient.

Whatever the motive, the result’s the same. Depth, curiosity, and knowledge retention got lost along the way leaving a new crop of mindless zombies.

I Loved Learning. Like, Really Loved It

I loved learning so much that college felt like heaven.

I majored in Political Science and Mass Communication, then went on to get my MA in Public Relations. But what stayed with me most wasn’t the career track. It was the freedom to learn just because I wanted to.

I took classes for fun. Russian literature, of all things. Challenging, emotional, brutal, beautiful. It cracked something open in me. It showed me how much history, culture, pain, humor, and humanity you can access without ever leaving your seat.

There’s a whole world out there. And so much of it lives inside books. You don’t need a boarding pass to experience it.

That kind of learning changes you. It makes you curious. It makes you harder to fool.

Short Form Content Is The Enemy

Short form content didn’t single-handedly destroy literacy, but it absolutely sped things up. When your brain’s trained to expect stimulation every few seconds, focus starts to feel unbearable. Reading a book feels like impossible. Writing a paragraph feels like a daunting task. So you begin to outsource your thinking to a computer. Before you know it, you can barely remember how to read or write.

This isn’t a moral panic about technology. It’s a call to action. A reminder it’s not too late to change the outcome.

Sure, we built systems that rewarded speed, reaction, and outrage. Then we handed them to children and teenagers whose brains were still forming and wondered why nothing stuck. But what if we could change that, instead of just accepting it?

What Low Literacy Is Actually Tied To

This isn’t just about being “well read.”

Low literacy rates are linked to higher incarceration rates, worse health outcomes, lower lifetime earnings, and less civic participation. People who struggle to read are easier to mislead. Easier to manipulate. Easier to ignore. Instead of reading newspapers or watching the news they settle for meme warfare as a credible source.

When complex ideas get flattened into images, jokes, and emotional bait, nuance dies fast. Misinformation spreads quicker when fewer people have the tools or patience to question what they’re seeing, trace a source, or read past a headline.

A lack of education doesn’t just limit opportunity. It limits agency. Because when people can’t engage critically with the world in front of them, someone else gets to decide what that world looks like.

Choosing The Challenge on Purpose

I’m not above this. None of us are. That’s why I keep a flip phone for non-work hours. Not to be quirky. To protect my brain and mental health. I got tired of feeling like my attention was being carved up and sold back to me, or like I needed to be reachable 24/7.

I’ve gotten back into the arts. Making things badly. Writing without posting. Reading slowly, ensuring I comprehend the messages on the pages in front of me.

And yeah, I’m reading more now. Because reading isn’t passive. It’s not boring. And it’s definitely not punishment. It’s an art. It asks you to stay. To imagine. To wrestle with ideas instead of scrolling past them.

How to Keep Your Brain Sharp for Free

No courses. No subscriptions. No bs.

Read physical books from the library. Fiction counts. Old books count. Consistency matters more than prestige.

Write by hand. Notes, journals, half-formed thoughts. The friction helps your brain slow down. In fact, write letters to your family and friends.

Limit short form content. Not eliminate. Limit. Set boundaries you can actually keep.

Learn something impractical. A language. An instrument. A craft. If it doesn’t monetize well, that’s kind of the point.

Have real conversations. Long ones. No multitasking. No posting about it afterward.

Boredom is where critical thinking begins.

A New Normal? I Hope Not

What makes all of this bleak is how normal it’s become. We talk about declining literacy like it’s whatever. Some quirky generational trait instead of a warning sign.

The kids aren’t alright. But neither are the systems raising them.

We can keep pretending this is inevitable. Or we can admit something valuable’s being lost and decide it’s worth protecting.

Because a world full of people who can’t read, think critically, or sit with their thoughts isn’t just less interesting.

It’s easier to control.