Dr. Leahcim Semaj
Psychologist | Author | Speaker | Management Consultant | Spiritual Guide | Social Philosopher
James Clear captured something profound when he wrote that writing is the superpower of humankind — our truest form of magic. Through writing, we conjure something of lasting value from nothing. The lessons of one life, committed to the page in a few minutes, can alter the course of another life entirely. Someone, somewhere, carries a wound in the exact shape of your words. And because we write, our children inherit a richer intellectual world than the one we entered. The world grows wealthier through writing, and no one is made poorer in the process.
But if writing is the spell, reading is what gives it power.
Reading is the key that unlocks the magic. It is the bridge between the writer’s mind and the reader’s soul — the act that completes the circle of creation and turns words into wisdom, inspiration, and action.
Through reading, we:
- Decode the magic. Writing creates; reading brings what was created to life. Without readers, even the most profound writing remains a locked room.
- Expand our world. Reading opens doors to lives we will never live, places we will never visit, and ideas we would never encounter on our own. It is a portal to limitless empathy and understanding.
- Build on what came before. Every generation reads its way into the inheritance left by the last. Reading is the mechanism through which humanity accumulates wisdom rather than perpetually starting over.
- Heal and find direction. The wounded find solace. The seeker finds answers. The dreamer finds fuel. Reading meets each of us where we are.
- Connect across time. Writing is a solitary act. Reading transforms it into a shared human experience — making us feel less alone, more understood, and part of something larger than ourselves.
If writing is the casting of spells, reading is the art of interpreting them — drawing out meaning, making it personal, and carrying it forward into new territory.
What Happens to Those Who Stop Reading?
We are now living through a grand, unintentional experiment. A growing number of people — particularly the young — rarely read at any length. Instead, they rely on short-form videos for most of their information. What are the likely consequences?
There are genuine benefits to video-based learning. Information arrives quickly. Visual and auditory learners often grasp concepts more readily through demonstration than through text. And the best short-form content can spark genuine curiosity about subjects a person might never have discovered on their own.
But the costs deserve honest attention.
Short videos, by design, sacrifice depth for reach. Complexity gets flattened. Nuance gets cut. The viewer receives a conclusion without the reasoning that supports it — and over time, reasoning itself becomes harder to access. Critical thinking is a muscle, and it atrophies without regular use.
Attention, too, is reshaped. The rapid, dopamine-driven rhythm of short-form consumption rewires expectations. Longer texts begin to feel like endurance tests. The patience required for serious reading — and serious thinking — quietly erodes.
There is also the problem of retention. Information absorbed in quick bursts tends not to stick. Knowledge gained through sustained reading, reflection, and engagement embeds itself differently. It becomes part of how a person thinks, not merely something they once watched.
And then there is the question of truth. Short videos can oversimplify and sensationalize with ease. Algorithms amplify what provokes reaction, not necessarily what is accurate or complete. People who do not read widely and deeply are more vulnerable to misinformation — not because they are less intelligent, but because they have fewer reference points with which to evaluate what they are being told.
The broader implications are serious. Reading is foundational to critical thinking, creative synthesis, and professional growth. Those who opt out of it do not simply miss information — they miss the habits of mind that reading builds. That gap, compounded over time, widens into real disparities in opportunity and influence.
Reading will never die. But those who don’t read will never fully live.
Sweden’s Lesson
The evidence is accumulating globally. Sweden, once celebrated for its ambitious move toward fully digital classrooms, has reversed course. Officials observed measurable declines in reading comprehension and writing ability among students who had grown up in screen-saturated environments. The government concluded that the shift away from traditional methods had moved too fast, without adequate consideration of the long-term consequences.
Research supports their concern. Reading on screens — particularly bright, backlit ones — tends to reduce focus and comprehension compared to reading on paper. The physical act of reading a book engages the brain differently and more deeply. Meanwhile, the constant availability of games and browsing on digital devices proved persistently distracting, even in structured classroom settings.
Sweden’s response was decisive: a 104-million-euro investment to return physical books to classrooms between 2022 and 2025. This was not a rejection of technology, but a recognition that technology must be used deliberately — as a supplement to deep reading, not a replacement for it.
The Balance We Need
Short-form video has a place. It can supplement learning, illustrate concepts, and bring the world to people who might otherwise be unreachable. But it cannot do what reading does. It cannot build the sustained attention, critical judgment, or deep empathy that come from inhabiting a text over time.
The most well-rounded, informed, and capable people will be those who can move fluidly between both — who use video as a doorway and books as the room beyond it.
The key is still reading. It always has been.
If this message speaks to where you are, I invite you to reach out. Book a one-on-one consultation to begin your journey toward clarity and growth. I am also available for keynotes, workshops, and organizational seminars. Subscribe to my newsletter and share it with those who may benefit.
I do not write to convince or convert — only to share what years of observation, study, and experience have taught me. Take what serves you. Leave the rest.
Until next time — forward, with curiosity and grace.
