American View: How did reading books become a guilty pleasure?

Human Resources10 Mar 2026

My darling wife got me Grant Snider’s book I Will Judge You by Your Bookshelf for Christmas last year. I put off reading it until January, got about halfway through it, set it down, and forgot where I left it.

My darling wife got me Grant Snider’s book I Will Judge You by Your Bookshelf for Christmas last year. I put off reading it until January, got about halfway through it, set it down, and forgot where I left it. That happens more often than I’d like to admit because I rarely find time to simply read without distractions. There’s always something going on, whether in the news, in the community, or just down the street that demands my attention. Same goes for everyone these days. Issues monopolize our brains’ focus and storage capacity, so to speak.

I’m embarrassed to admit that I’ve been consuming streaming content in place of books since I can multitask while listening to a presenter: fold laundry, do the washing up, pay bills, etc. I still get to slake my hunger for new information, but I don’t feel like I’m letting the home team down. Chores and tasks get done, so I don’t have to experience guilt from selfishly taking time out for myself at someone else’s expense, or something like that. I’m sure there’s a negative psychological trait in play here. I might look that topic up on YouTube once I get this last load of towels out of the dryer …

This bad habit of mine came up in a text conversation I had with my sister on Friday night. She’s been on leave from her job as head of a high school maths department to fight a nasty bout of cancer. I try to check in on her every few days. Offer moral support. Tell jokes. Share puppy photos. The normal sort of stuff you do to support a friend or relative who’s going through some serious *#&$ two thousand miles away.

After our usual banter about health and medical topics, my sister mentioned, “I’m at [her older child’s]’s musical. It’s intermission. The last big production of high school. He’s so great.”

I joked, “I’m on the couch watching video analysis of South Korea’s arms industry expansion. I’m sure [older child] sings great, but can they establish a shared manufacturing arrangement for infantry fighting vehicles assembly with the Polish government? J”

My sister scolded me, saying “Maybe you could watch something more fun on TV?”

Like casualty reports from the war zone?

That was last night, but I’m still thinking about my sister’s comment this morning. As far as I’m concerned, keeping up with my former profession is fun. I like to learn how the industries that I used to reply on — like ordnance production — have evolved since I mustered out. I also pay close attention to global conflicts, like our pointless military quagmire in the Middle East (a.k.a., Operation Epstein Files Distraction).

At the same time, I like learning about lots of other topics that might have some bearing on my professional life. Last night, in addition to Task & Purpose’s excellent video essay on ROK manufacturing, I watched an essay on ICE’s legal predicaments and another on dysfunctional behaviour. These might seem like peculiar topics to chain together, but to me all fall into a shared category I label as “why are we in this mess and how do we fix it?” Whether video essays or books, most of the content I consume falls into this broad category.

Speaking of content management, I moved a small bookshelf into our living room a while back to hold the books I most want to read but haven’t gotten round to yet. I figured that by placing the books I feel obligated to read right next to the television, I’d see them every time I cued up a new video essay. The guilt I’d feel at watching something instead of reading, I reasoned, would motivate me to read more.

For what it’s worth, I divided the fast-access bookshelf up into two columns on four shelves based on topics:

Top shelf: theology, history
Second shelf: cybercrime, white collar crime
Third shelf: neurology, psychology, and sociology (all mixed up)
Bottom shelf: fiction (90% of which is crime fiction)

My father was a huge fan of Georges Simenon’s Maigret series, I inherited those books when he passed and have been slowly working my way through them.

Did my self-shaming trick work? Nope! It backfired. It made me feel even guiltier about not reading. There are 136 unread books currently on my fast-access bookshelf. There were 140 on 1st January Including I Will Judge You by Your Bookshelf. I suppose I should be proud of a 2.8% reduction, but … no. ^[1]

I can’t express how much it “itches” my brain that I haven’t devoured more of these books. They tease me from their stacks. It’s demoralizing to imagine what valuable insights I’m missing out on by shifting my self-paced learning from paper to streams just so I can multitask. This seems neither healthy nor sustainable.

All of this came to mind Friday night when my sister snarked “Maybe you could watch something more fun on TV?” That bothered me. I don’t want to watch something fun. It’s not that I don’t enjoy fun content. I do devote one hour a week to watching killer shows like Fallout and enjoy the heck of them. It’s just that … I irrationally feel that if I’m not learning something practical in my content consumption, then I’m doing myself, my users, and my employer a disservice. I should be maximizing my skills as a cybersecurity professional.

I realize that this is an unhelpful state of mind. I do my best to not hold others to the same harsh media consumption standards I hold myself to. That would be unfair, especially when nearly everyone is stressed out by and exhausted by current events, our collapsing economy, et al. On the other hand, media consumption is most folks’ primary method for resisting the existential dread that naturally flows from late-stage capitalism. We turn to books, television, and social media to steal moments of joy from the all-consuming void (a.k.a., the news).

“Says here we’ll be greeted as liberators and be home by Sunday.” “Just like last time, huh?”

That’s why I ask interview candidates things like “what are you reading in your down time?” and “what was the most influential book you read last year?” I want to know what sparks a potential colleague’s interests and imagination. I want to know what topics captivate them. I want to know what’s still sitting unread on their bookshelves. What stimulates a person’s imagination? What knowledge do they crave? What buoys them in these turbulent tomes?

Regular readers know that I loathe kitschy interview questions and silly “logic” games. Effective interview questions reveal both the employer’s and the candidate’s production potential and core values. It’s a process of discovery for both sides of a potential partnership. That’s why, I’ve found, media consumption preferences can often reveal more about a candidate’s character that reciting their occupational accomplishments. It’s the difference between “who are you?” and “what have you done?” Even when a candidate’s passions and diversions fall outside of a position’s job responsibilities, those interests illustrate how a candidate translates interests into learning, and learning into growth.

Maybe that’s what my wife was hinting at when she got me Grant Snider’s book: I guess I do judge other people by what’s on their bookshelves. I certainly judge myself for what’s still on mine. Maybe, then, I should evolve my interviewing technique to ask about people’s content consumption across all means and methods to be more comprehensive … and to be fairer to people out there – like me – who feel compelled to prioritize chores over dedicated reading time.

^[1] Editor’s note: after finishing the second draft of this article, Keil forced himself to yoink a book off his fast-access shelf and read it cover-to-cover in a single sitting. Georges Simenon’s Maigret and the Tall Woman, (1951). Keil’s backlog reduction percentage now stands at an only slightly less depressing 3.5%]

Human Resources