Reckoning with the Death of Interesting
"Interesting" is a word increasingly met with scorn and apology. How does this shift in meaning affect us when language shapes our world?
Over the past few weeks, I've heard the word "interesting" scornfully spoken of. The first instance came while listening to a group of professional critics discuss their craft, with one commenting that they hate the word's use in their industry. The latest example comes from a paranormal podcast, whose host apologized for using interesting in response to research being presented to them. In both examples, we have people whose profession revolves around critical thinking refuting the word. Isn't that interesting?
Before we get too far into an examination of this trend, let's first define the word on trial. Per Merriam-Webster, the definition of interesting is "holding the attention: arousing interest." Further, Merriam-Webster details the history of interesting: "The word interesting originally meant 'of concern'; it was a synonym of important. It comes from the verb interest, which in its original use meant 'to induce or persuade to participate or engage.' If you were interested in something, you were not willing to be a bystander; you felt the need to participate or engage."
Participate. Engage. Neither are concepts one would expect to be shunned. Both are core aspects of learning and education, and essential parts of our society depend on some level of individual participation – voting, for example. Yet, interesting is turning into a dirty word – an adjective worthy of apology and contempt when used by those whose jobs are engaging with ideas.
The problem with all words is twofold. Firstly, the same word can mean different things to different people. Secondly, language and words are constantly changing.
The first problem is the most interesting to tackle, so I'll address the second point quickly. A word’s definition differs across time. Everyone who speaks a language knows this. What calling someone "dude" meant to a person in 1900, 1990, and today is very different. Some people call this evolution. However, evolution implies growing more complex and language tends to grow simpler. Concepts get boiled down to words. Words get combined into a contraction. And let's not even get started on slang. Language is inherently entropic – know what I mean?
Combining language's trend toward simplification and disorder, we return to the first point – similar words don't mean the same thing to everyone. Surfacely, it's a "no duh" observation. In these culturally and politically charged times, it's rather evident – look up videos of people trying to define what "woke" means. Yet, when examined more deeply, one will discover it to be a corrosive element of language. Philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein thought it was the root cause of and problem with philosophy, for example.
To Wittgenstein, each person has a language game they play when speaking with another. Every person has their own understanding of what a word means; thus, while both are armed with the same language, they have different understandings of what is being said. Generally, this is not a problem. For example, if I were to tell you, "Jamie cut down a tree," it doesn't matter what gender Jamie is, how they cut the tree down, or what kind of tree it was. Thanks to Jamie, there is no longer a tree somewhere, and that's all I need you to understand. The issue is when we start speaking more complexly – like calling something interesting.
Colloquially, I understand why interesting is a word devoid of meaning. I get why the critics find it a vapid descriptor and why the paranormal host apologized for using it to respond to a researcher. Interesting doesn't really mean anything anymore.
While the word interesting used to convey that something was engaging and worthy of further participation with, it's grown simpler overtime. Interesting has been, at best, reduced to meaning something holds attention. When it was first spoken and written, having one's attention held required effort. It had to be a story, lecture, play, puppet show, or so on – something that required effort and left a person with something to think about after it was over, thus holding their attention. And here is another layer to the language game we're playing, what does attention mean? Formally, it means to apply one's mind to something. However, today, one's attention can be focused for hours on the three-minute and 30-second or less runtime of TikTok videos.
So, if I say something is interesting to me, what am I saying? Do I mean I'll notice it for a few minutes, or do I think it's worthy of further consideration? You know what the word means to you, and only I know what it means to me. Therein lies the language game.
What are the ramifications of interesting's death? I see it as a marker on the declining slope of critical thought. Much has been written about the rise of anti-intellectualism, the loss of media literacy, and so on – all of which are different branches of critical thinking. And I don't say this to try and seem like the smartest guy in the room; I believe intelligence can grow and shrink in a person depending on how they utilize their mind, like any other muscle of the body. I also believe in linguistic relativity – our language shapes our world.
What's the first spark of thinking about something critically, analyzing an idea and its merits? Finding it interesting. Would I be talking about Wittgenstein if I didn't find his ideas interesting? Would anyone care to study Plato, Jacques Vallée, or Howard Zinn if what they wrote held no interest?
When interesting can be either a simple phatic expression or a genuine expression of intrigue, what shape do our worlds take? It's telling that the critics have grown to despise it, and those interviewing researchers apologize for using it. There’s an agreement forming in favor of interesting’s phatic connotation.
As people succumb more and more easily to conspiracy theories and lose their media literacy, interesting's death isn't all too surprising. What is interesting to ponder is which came first – the decline of critical thought or the decline of interest?