The idea of "reading rehabilitation" has recently sparked discussions on Chinese social media. The idea is simple: Instead of forcing oneself through dense books, start small, for example from children's science readers or illustrated texts, to help the brain gradually readjust to sustained reading. In the age of short videos, reading is no longer a default ability; for many, it has become something that must be relearned.
The widespread empathy toward "reading rehabilitation" reveals the decline in people's capacity for deep reading. Endless scrolling, algorithmic feeds, and rapid-fire content have trained the brain to seek instant stimulation. Long-form reading, by contrast, demands patience, continuity, and mental endurance. Acknowledging this "loss of ability" is the first step toward reclaiming control over one's attention.
In terms of reading time, the average adult spent more than three hours per day reading via digital media in 2024, while time spent on traditional print media was only about half an hour. The widespread adoption of digital reading has made information accessible, but it also comes with a flood of fragmented content. Rapid scrolling and bite-sized consumption cannot easily replace the depth of thinking cultivated through sustained reading. Deep reading requires slowing down, following the author's logic line by line, and forming one's own judgments through careful reflection.
Zhang Peng, a cultural researcher, suggested some ways to rebuild daily reading habits, such as restoring a pathway to print reading and using the tactile experience of physical books to counter digital distractions. More importantly, the recovery of one's reading ability carries broader cultural implications. Reading is a process of structuring thought, deepening understanding, and cultivating the capacity to engage with complexity.
When a society collectively struggles with sustained reading, shallow thinking becomes normalized and nuanced perspectives give way to oversimplified narratives. In this sense, "reading rehabilitation" is about safeguarding the depth of public discourse. Without it, the space for careful reasoning risks being crowded out by the immediacy of fast content.
By elevating reading to a public priority, such initiatives signal that rebuilding reading capacity is not simply an individual struggle, but a shared cultural endeavor. Yet the essence of "reading rehabilitation" lies in practice, in the quiet act of returning to text, page by page. It requires patience to accept slower progress, humility to start from simpler materials, and persistence to resist the pull of instant gratification.
In that process, something larger is gradually restored: not just the ability to read, but the ability to think in depth and to engage meaningfully with the world. In an era defined by speed, to relearn how to read deeply is, ultimately, to relearn how to think for ourselves.