I

used to be able to sit down and
read, uninterrupted, for hours.
Same with movies and award

shows — I would
intently observe,
connect
with

the
material

and
try
my

hardest to remember why I liked
it so I could tell my friends later. As
I began to become more and more
captivated by social media and
technology, this ability waned. I
found myself anxious to tweet my
thoughts during a live television
event, Snapchat the best songs at a
concert and take a good selfie for
Instagram. I couldn’t give myself
the freedom to simply watch, listen
and live without the anticipation
of
critiquing,
documenting
or

interrogating the experiences I
had. This isn’t always a bad thing —
nearly every course you can take on
literature and rhetoric highlights
the
importance
of
continued,

rigorous engagement with media
and experiences. The omnipresence
of technology has definitely enabled
a stronger culture of critical thinking
when it comes to certain events
and trends (think: the response to
Beyonce’s
Lemonade,
plethoras

of television recaps, thinkpieces,
etc.). However, I sometimes miss
the days of prolonged and directed
focus. I am starting to miss having a
real attention span. I’m working on
improving my focus, but while it’s
still on shaky ground, I thought I’d
share some things I’ve noticed about
myself and others grappling with
this dilemma.
1. Instagram > Facebook.

Facebook is the place you go to

announce a life update requiring
major
verbal
explanation.
It’s

for reaching out to your parents,
grandparents and acquaintances.
And you definitely never read
through each post. Who has time for
that? Instagram, however, is home
to your closest friends (especially
if you have a finsta), and the norms
dictate roughly one photo posted
per day with a quirky one-sentence
caption. It’s easy to reach the end
of your feed when you only need to
glance at a picture and double-tap
it to acknowledge its presence was
felt, before sending it away with a

flick of your thumb. It just makes
more sense this way — you’re less
formal, cringeworthy puns are the
best captions, and comments are
short bursts of love for your friends
and their photogenic lives. It’s more
authentic. And it takes less time —
gotta keep that battery life lasting
all day!
2. Snapchat is king.

Texting can be a lot of work. Again,

you’re thrust into the rigidity of
language and emojis — and those can
only express so much. But a picture
tells 1,000 words, without the tedium
of typing out and then reading all of
those words. And a picture with the
dog filter superimposed on it says
even more.
3. Video chatting and live video
are great.

Again, typing and reading are

super difficult for those of us
suffering from shrinking attention
spans. FaceTiming or Skyping a
friend saves you the time and is also
spontaneous — you don’t have to
dedicate time later to read through a
feed, a backlog of texts or even open
a set of Snapchats. It’s all happening
live. Live video is also popular
on social media, and from live-
streaming sports and political events
like the recent gun safety sit-in, it’s a
new form of journalism. It’s a form of
journalism that you can actually sit
through — because it’s going on right
then, right from your phone.
4. Binge-watching is the only way
of life.

Netflix
changed
the
game

with streaming television shows,
and even more so when it began
releasing its own content that was
designed for binge-viewing. We
collectively realized that scheduling
time and pacing ourselves to get
through a story was a waste. Plus,
it’s hard to remember every detail
packed into a show when it runs
the course of an entire year. Just get
all of your watching over and done
with — so you can Snapchat your
friends about it.
5. You sign up for online learning
and never learn.

There are so many incredible

resources for learning new skills,
from computer programming to
history, just the tap of a button
away. And your résumé, and your

intellectual curiosity, could use some
of that. But no matter how many
Codecademy-esque sites you see
or how many Coursera e-mails you
get, you cannot ever actually stick
to the plan. I mean sure, reviewing
JavaScript was cool last week, but
you’re busy and this Instagram
caption won’t write itself.
6. You think you’re immune to
clickbait …

An article with a buzzy headline

will pop up online, and you will see
right through it, patting yourself on
the back for not getting sucked into
the trap. Then it happens. “5 Easy
Guacamole Recipes That Changed
My Life.” Before you realize it, you
are eating chips and guac and an
hour has passed, you have nine tabs
open and you’re seven items into a
separate list regarding the middle
names of each of the 101 Dalmatians.
7. You wish TL;DR existed for
everything.

Paragraphs are daunting. The

written word, from textbooks to
text messages, from e-books to
e-mails, could use a one sentence
summary of key points. Teachers
always used to say show, don’t
tell. But when you can see any
image in the entire world from a
few keystrokes, it’s better to just
tell. Too Long; Didn’t Read is
the epitome of casual, everyday
shortened attention spans.
8. Listicles are your best friend!

Few things are as ubiquitous on

the Internet than the Buzzfeed-
style
listicle.
Sassy
headlines,

brief
bullets,
animated
GIFs

and copywriting that reads like
an advertisement all abound in
listicles. But they are quick to
read and so relatable! They can
be effective in communicating a
brief point, explaining a concept
or providing entertainment value.
Listicles are the most salient feature
of the modern Internet, and they
show no sign of slowing down yet.
It’s hard to keep people engaged in
an article whose point is to engage
with their own lack of engagement,
and even harder to do so if that
article is long with traditional
paragraphs and blocky text boxes.

—Madeline Nowicki can be

reached at nowickim@umich.edu.

5
OPINION

Thursday, June 30, 2016

The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com

How to live with a short attention span

MADELINE
NOWICKI

Ensuring ethics in autonomy

Roland Davidson, Caitlin Heenan, Elena Hubbell, Jeremy Kaplan,

Madeline Nowicki, Kevin Sweitzer, Brooke White.

EDITORIAL BOARD MEMBERS

I

magine: You step into your car
and punch in the address of your
destination. The motor hums to

life, the wheels
begin to turn,
but you aren’t
steering. Instead
you can relax,
queue up some music, use both hands
to eat, talk on the phone or simply have a
snooze. Driverless cars, or autonomous
vehicles (AVs, as they’re called in the
industry), look to be the inevitable
direction of motor transportation.
The University of Michigan agrees
— just look to its recently-built mock-
cityscape, which engineers are using
now to test AVs onsite.

Many have been wondering when

AVs will ever become a fixture in
our way of life. I can’t speak to that
personally, but I’ve become intrigued
by the ethical questions about AVs
that are now starting to disseminate
through conversations: In the chance
a fast-moving AV bears down on
oblivious pedestrians in the road,
should it maneuver to avoid them
while putting the passenger at risk for
collision with a fixed object (like a wall)
or even somebody walking responsibly
on the sidewalk? Or should it prioritize
the wellbeing of the passenger,
sacrificing that of the pedestrians? AVs
are little more than robots with wheels.
They will be programmed to have to
make such calls.

The
development
of
AVs

has
triggered
unprecedented

collaborations between expertise in
the tech and automotive spheres, most
notably that between Fiat Chrysler
Automobiles and Google. In such a
joint venture, we can imagine that
while automotive engineers style
and design safety mechanisms for
AVs, programmers will design the
algorithms that AVs employ to navigate
and make split-second decisions.
The programmer would therefore
consciously write in the car’s software
which maneuver to take for situations
when
collisions
are
unavoidable,

but the course of action differently
affects the lives of those involved. This
decision-making process would be
made known to consumers. Without
regulations in place, consumers could
hypothetically choose between an AV
software package that prioritizes the
safety of the passenger (themselves)
and a package that prioritizes the
safety of the greatest number of people
(including those outside the car).

Researchers recently surveyed

U.S.
residents
about
their

sentiments
regarding
such
a

dilemma. One opinion held a clear
majority. Seventy-six percent of

the respondents believed that the
car should maneuver to harm the
fewest number of people, even if
the passenger was not among that
number. Perhaps it suggests that
we generally have equal respect
for all human life and wellbeing,
a utilitarian and pleasant notion.
But the situation changes when we
consider purchasing a car ourselves.
While a strong majority felt that
AVs should minimize harm across
everyone, a majority were not
supportive of regulations requiring
such algorithms in AVs, likely
preferring to have the option to
purchase self-protecting cars. Such
offerings would create a completely
different preference: who would
buy a utilitarian car knowing others
could be purchasing self-protecting
ones? The enthusiasm to protect the
common good breaks down.

A couple things have become

clear. We already believe that AVs of
any type will save lives by preventing
user
error-triggered
collisions

compared to human-driven vehicles.
And for everyone to begin adopting
utilitarian AVs, regulations will
be needed. This in turn will slow
adoption of such cars, however,
as consumers remain concerned
about their own wellbeing when
using them. As a result, more lives
may not be saved during the slower
transition to utilitarian cars than if
self-protecting cars were allowed,
and more quickly adopted.

We will need to learn even more

about consumer opinion about a
variety of specific ethical dilemmas
concerning AVs of this sort before
such decisions are made. But with the
data we have, it seems like a two-stage
adoption would make the most sense.
Early on, regulating cars to protect
the passenger would suffice to ensure
quick adoption of this new mode of
transportation. Perhaps 20 to 30 years
afterward, or however long it takes for
driverless cars to become widespread
in the United States, the policy could
switch to a utilitarian one, ensuring
the greatest preservation of life for time
to come, after the consumer psyche
has gained comfort with using such
vehicles.

I don’t put this forward as an expert,

just a curious citizen. But this is about
more than a thought experiment.
Engineers
aren’t
perfect.
When

millions of AVs eventually hit the
road, we’ll see their shortcomings. We
should be considerate about the ones
we can control.

—David Mertz can be reached

at drmertz@umich.edu.

DAVID
MERTZ