In conversations about social media, online activity, and entertainment standards, people like to talk about how much “content” they “consume.”

I’ve grown to hate these two words. “Content” is such a general term that we may as well say “things.” (“I’ve been looking at a lot of things online.” “Our marketing strategy is to produce a lot of things.”) As for “consume,” it makes me think of indiscriminate gobbling, more appropriate for a monster or forest fire than a person.

Imagine what George Orwell would have made of these vague metaphors. In his essay, “Politics and the English Language,” he rants at length about modern writing, arguing that such vagueness is actually dangerous:

By using stale metaphors, similes and idioms, you save much mental effort, at the cost of leaving your meaning vague, not only for your reader but for yourself. … [These metaphors] will construct your sentences for you – even think your thoughts for you, to a certain extent – and at need they will perform the important service of partially concealing your meaning even from yourself.

In other words, thoughtless language leads to thoughtless people.

Rather than “consuming content,” let’s be specific and talk about “watching videos” or “reading articles.” If this “content” is garbage, say so: “I’ve been wasting my time watching stupid things on the internet.” It’s jarring to say that out loud, which is the whole point.

In addition, the word “consume” drastically misrepresents what we are doing when we use our eyes to interact with the world around us. We often think of seeing as a passive activity, something that happens to us. In fact, it’s an act that we, the viewers, perform on the objects we see. By paying attention to them, we imply that they are worthy of consideration and thought.

This isn’t as strange as it sounds. Looking at something always carries a judgment value. When we are embarrassed or sad, we cover our faces so that we can’t be seen. We aren’t worried about what our expression will do to those around us. We are worried about what their perception will do to us. On the opposite end of the spectrum, a pop star like Taylor Swift commands the attention of thousands at her concerts. All those eyeballs demonstrate her influence. Our gaze empowers her.

Some ancient philosophers took the active nature of sight for granted. In “Timaeus,” one of his Socratic dialogues, the Greek philosopher Plato describes the eye as putting out a stream of light, which touches objects in the world and brings them back to the mind. We don’t need to take this literally to see his point. We’ve all felt the pressure of being looked at, whether by a disapproving parent or a room full of people. Similarly, we all understand how serious it is to tell someone, “I never want to see you again.” Not looking at someone is like refusing to acknowledge their existence.

The concept of active sight goes back further than Plato. In the Bible, sight is almost always associated with judgment. In Genesis, God creates, looks at His creation, and pronounces it good. In the book of Proverbs, the wise man learns by seeing and evaluating the actions of others (Proverbs 24:32). Blindness is equated with ignorance (Matthew 15:14), and clear sight with belief (2 Corinthians 5:7).

The phrase “consuming content” obscures all this, making us feel less responsible for what we read, watch, and listen to. Ironically, even as we try to avoid responsibility, everything we do online is recorded, and people use those numbers to gauge the importance of a given article, video, or tweet. You may think that watching a YouTube video or reading a tweet is a neutral act, but in fact, your attention gives it value whether you approve of it or not.

For some – reporters, editors, and political analysts who have had their senses exercised to discern good and evil – reading contentious articles may be necessary. But the rest of us would be better off ignoring things that are not worthy of our time. Despite what we say, we are not “consuming content” so much as “dignifying photos, videos, and articles with our attention.”

Your sight is powerful. Use it wisely.

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This article was made possible by The Fred & Rheta Skelton Center for Cultural Renewal. 

Image credit: Unsplash