Her: I read a wonderful book the other day.
Him: On what?
Her: On relationships
Him: No, I mean on what device did you read it? Kindle? Nook? Sony? iPad?
Her: Kindle. Anyway, this book said some really important things about how couples communicate.
Him: Kindle? You could probably see an enhanced version with all kinds of extras on the iPad. Is it audio enabled?`
Her: I don’t know. Would you like to know what the author said about listening to the other person?
Him: Will I be able to see it on YouTube? Hey, why are you packing your suitcase?

This sad exchange might be cited by Deborah Tannen if she ever decided to update You Just Don’t Understand, her insightful book describing how difficult it is for men and women to communicate with each other.  The “Her” in the story was talking about what interested her (her relationship with Him) and the “Him” was talking about what interested him (cool stuff).

This divergence between content and form manifests itself more and more as the format crowds out content in media’s bid for our attention. Books are a salient example. As the publishing industry shifts from paper to screen, the qualities of the book itself just don’t seem as significant as the packaging and delivery technology. It’s begun to be reflected in editorial attitudes: ”Great concept, marvelous characters, super plot. But the author has no platform and a boring website. Sorry.”

Even reviewers have contracted the disease, especially those who cover the media online. Jason Kottke, posting a blog entitled The New Rules for Reviewing Media, observed “I’ve noticed an increasing tendency by reviewers on Amazon (and Apple’s iTunes and App Stores) to review things based on the packaging or format of the media with little regard shown to the actual content/plot.”

Unlike newspaper and magazine reviewers, says Kottke, their Internet cousins ask “whether a book would be good to read on a Kindle, if you should buy the audiobook version instead of the hardcover because John Hodgman has a delightful voice, if a magazine is good for reading on the toilet, if a movie is watchable on an iPhone or if you need to see it in 1080p on a big TV, if a hardcover is too heavy to read in the bath, whether the trailer is an accurate depiction of what the movie is about, or if the hardcover price is too expensive and you should get the Kindle version or wait for the paperback. Or, as the above reviewers hammer home, if the book is available to read on the Kindle/iPad/Nook or if it’s better to wait until the director’s cut comes out.”

Kottke has put his finger on a significant trend, but although he neither condones or condemns it, we’ve expressed growing concern (see Watching Books) that literature will be judged on the most superficial grounds: not how artistic it is, but what’s the best gadget to read it on.

“In the end,” writes Kottke, “people don’t buy content or plots, they buy physical or digital pieces of media for use on specific devices and within certain contexts.”

Troubling.

Richard Curtis