I’ve noticed that when people share what I write, they often do it with the caveat, “Be warned, this is a long read.” I smile when I see that.
I should preface by saying (as I have in plenty of past articles) that to learn anything, more than snippet-reading is required—or as I said in my 2/12/25 article about active and passive learning, “Genuine learning isn’t lazy. It’s an active process. It takes work…. Most often, controversial or challenging topics are not easily digestible. They take a little extra work, especially if the intent is to understand the argument and then formulate a barrier of truth relative to it.”
Sixty-second reads and meme-learning may be all we think we have time for. Still, it just won’t do. You have to dig in and examine the strata. I tend to believe that when a society prefers only the easy reads, we’re in trouble. Ideological capture only increases, along with the inability to engage in dialogue, resulting in divisions deepening.
Let me show what I mean.
A friend of mine shared a recent NBC article on his timeline. It is a perfect example of how selective framing, couched in brevity, presents an incomplete argument that ultimately hinders understanding and furthers the divide.
You can read the article here:
Now, before I get into this, I don’t want you to think that every short article is inherently dishonest. Shakespeare indeed said, “Brevity is the soul of wit.” But perhaps better, wisdom produces wit. Wisdom doesn’t become the substantive force that it is by feeding off of nothing but sugary catchphrases and ideological sayings. More in tune with my point, I’m saying that brevity requires the omission of complexity, and when that happens, because we’re already working with inherent beliefs, a reader’s ideology naturally fills the void.
Considering the article at hand, for starters, keep in mind that the opening sentences in any article are the ones that typically establish its tone. The first and second sentences do this. But starting with the second: “It’s the latest attack from Republicans on the federal judiciary….” The word “attack” is an emotionally loaded term. It implies irrational aggression. In other words, the Republicans are not engaging with the judiciary as though it is good. They are attacking it with the intent of tearing it down altogether. With this at the article’s beginning, the topic is already buried by negative connotations, ultimately undermining neutrality. This is precisely what’s lost in snippet culture. The tone is set with a single word rather than requiring a fuller explanation that shows why that word is appropriate. Without considering these implications more deeply, when this happens, a reader can absorb the writer’s bias without even knowing it. If the writer provides reasoning, it’s harder to trick the reader. It may even become harder to trick himself.
With that, before going further, I should go back to the article’s first sentence, which begins, “Facing pressure from his right flank….” This implies Speaker Johnson isn’t acting on principle. He’s certainly not employing constitutional reasoning. Instead, he is being pressured by extremists—the “right flank.” This sets the stage for the reader to assume (as the article leads them along) that Johnson and others are by no means doing what they’re doing because they genuinely believe and can prove that the courts are overreaching. This is ad hominem in the mineral sense. It dismisses someone’s fuller argument based on presumed motivation rather than engaging with the argument itself. There’s a reason people use ad hominem attacks. Doing so creates a narrative imbalance. But what happens to that imbalance when the bones of the argument are given more flesh? Again, it becomes a lot harder to trick a reader when they have more of the details.
Another observation might be that the article quotes Johnson, who said, “We do have the authority over the federal courts….” However, this is essentially all you get. Rather than exploring or explaining the GOP’s constitutional reasoning, their entire argument is undercut and reframed as nothing more than extremism-fueled overreach with a sprinkling of political theater. This is an example of selective omission. Anyone familiar with debate tactics and language will attest that debaters/writers do this for the same reason ad hominem is used: to create narrative imbalance. What would happen to this imbalance if the constitutional reasoning were presented, even in part?
Something else I noticed, while it could be considered speculative on my part, sure was suspect. The author uses snippets of Republican voices to show disunity within what is, in reality, an incredibly unified party right now. For example, there’s the following selective quotation: “Sen. Josh Hawley… said eliminating a district court would create ‘massive backlogs.’” He’s probably right. But knowing Hawley, that’s likely not all he said. Even further, for balanced reporting, why not include dissenting Democrats who have criticized judicial overreach or supported curbing judicial activism? While not directly supporting Johnson here, someone like Senator Fetterman has pushed back against his own party on similar rhetorical excesses. But no such nuance is offered. We’re left with a false dichotomy by contrast, using only Republican critics to discredit other Republicans without showing similar disagreement from the other side. Imagine if the broader argument—the similar concerns from Democrats—were included in the article.
But that would take more time to read.
Continuing on, I think the greatest disservice given by this short article was the apparent lack of equivalent historical framing concerning Johnson’s mentioning of Congress eliminating courts in 1913 and 1982. Some facts are included, but only briefly and in a way that relies on the already established premise of irrational hostility. Doing so, the article completely distances those previous eliminations from the current efforts, teeing up the implication, “But that was entirely different back then,” or worse, that Johnson is saying, “Well, they did it so why can’t we?” This is another crucial omission of some essential information. The reader is given minimal historical context to assess whether what’s happening right now is genuinely unprecedented or not.
These are just a few examples among many in this article. Indeed, when it comes to information that can actually help a reader understand the issue, this article is thin. Realistically, it is pure speculation, riddled with logical fallacies meant to keep ideological silos intact. It may resemble journalism, but it functions like slanted editorializing. And its ultimate goal is not to keep a reader informed concerning a complex issue that affects him. It is to show that Republicans are extremists and Democrats are reasonable.
Admittedly, both sides do this. Still, if more information were provided—if the article wasn’t flawed from the beginning, designed in snippet fashion—the reader might be able to form a more reliably accurate conclusion, even if the article is clearly biased.
And so, returning to my original premise, this is why long reads matter. This is why my notes are longer than most. I want to think the issues through. I don’t necessarily know where I’ll end. Nevertheless, I try to give ample space for nuance, context, and complexity—things that snippet-writing simply can’t hold. On the flip side, the deeper a reader can go, the more equipped he is to challenge a writer’s faulty logic while at the same time navigating various issues with greater discernment. In an age of curated outrage packaged in sixty-second reads, longer reads foster more thoughtful engagement. Besides, we can’t always get along with less information; sometimes we need more. And the thing is, I don’t think truth minds the long road. I think it only asks that we keep walking.
Cruciform Stuff 