Depth is not outdated. It is essential.
PELAKITA.ID – In an age dominated by scrolling thumbs and shrinking attention spans, short content has become the default language of digital communication. Short videos, event highlight reels, bite-sized articles, and viral captions flood timelines every second. They promise efficiency, instant gratification, and relevance.
Yet beneath this convenience lies a growing concern: short content is not making readers and young generations wiser, more critical, or more informed—often, it is doing the opposite.
The problem is not that short content exists. The problem is that it increasingly replaces depth, reflection, and context.
Short content thrives on immediacy. A 30-second video, a 200-word article, or a 10-slide carousel is designed to be consumed quickly and forgotten just as fast. For events, this often means flashy visuals without substance—smiling crowds, applause, slogans, and cinematic music—while the ideas, debates, and complexities behind the event vanish entirely.
What remains is an illusion of participation, not understanding.
Young generations grow up surrounded by this format. They are not necessarily less intelligent or less curious than previous generations, but the ecosystem shaping their habits rewards speed over thought. Algorithms favor what is easily digestible, emotionally stimulating, and shareable.
As a result, content creators are incentivized to simplify issues, remove nuance, and avoid anything that requires sustained attention.
One of the most damaging effects of short content is the loss of narrative continuity. Humans understand the world through stories—stories with beginnings, middles, and ends. Long-form writing, documentaries, and in-depth reporting allow ideas to unfold gradually, showing cause and consequence, contradiction and resolution.
Short content, by contrast, fragments reality. It presents isolated moments without explaining how or why they matter. Young audiences may know what happened, but rarely understand what it means.
This fragmentation also weakens critical thinking. When information arrives in rapid, disconnected bursts, there is little room to question sources, examine assumptions, or compare perspectives. A short article rarely has space to explore opposing views. A short video rarely explains structural causes. Over time, this trains audiences to accept surface-level explanations and react emotionally rather than analytically.
Event videos are a particularly striking example. Many are produced to “document” activities, but what they actually document is atmosphere, not substance.
The camera captures stages, banners, and applause—but not dialogue, disagreement, or learning. For young viewers, events become spectacles rather than intellectual spaces. They see participation as appearance, not engagement. Being present matters more than understanding.
Short articles suffer a similar fate. Headlines become the main product, while the body text merely repeats slogans or official statements. Context—historical, social, or political—is stripped away. Readers are left with conclusions without arguments, outcomes without processes. This weakens literacy in its deepest sense: the ability to follow complex ideas over time.
There is also a psychological cost. Constant exposure to short content conditions the brain to expect immediate stimulation. Long texts begin to feel “heavy,” discussions feel “too slow,” and silence feels uncomfortable. Many young people report difficulty reading books, concentrating during lectures, or staying with a single idea for more than a few minutes. This is not a personal failure—it is a structural one.
Ironically, this happens at a time when the world is becoming more complex, not less. Climate change, inequality, technological disruption, and political polarization cannot be understood through 60-second videos.
These issues demand patience, historical awareness, and moral reflection. When young generations are fed primarily short content, they are under-equipped to navigate long-term challenges.
This does not mean young people dislike depth. When given meaningful long-form content—well-written essays, podcasts, documentaries, or thoughtful articles—many engage deeply. The popularity of long podcasts, audiobooks, and deep-dive YouTube essays proves that the appetite for substance still exists. What is missing is encouragement, access, and cultural validation.
The solution is not to abandon short content entirely. Short formats can serve as gateways, invitations, or summaries. But they should lead somewhere deeper, not become the final destination. Event videos should be accompanied by reflective articles. Short news pieces should link to long-form analysis. Education systems and media platforms must actively defend slow thinking as a valuable skill.
Ultimately, a society shaped only by short content risks becoming shallow in judgment and fragile in understanding. Young generations deserve more than highlights and headlines. They deserve stories that unfold, ideas that challenge them, and texts that respect their capacity to think.
Depth is not outdated. It is essential.