
Yesterday afternoon we saw
this photo of US Airways Airbus A320 floating in the Hudson River and were mesmerized, upset, strangely euphoric. We saw it again this morning and thought, hm, already know that story. Reviewing it this afternoon we thought, ugh, the composition is horrible -- and that cell phone camera has lousy resolution. What a crappy photo.
Why does the value of this image decay over time? Why is "news" more powerful when recent? Bill Green has a
nice rant today about the rush for consumers to become reporters via Twitter, even if it leads to inaccuracy, with mainstream media reflowing the reports to get as close as possible to the actual moment of the news event. A picture of a bird being sucked into an engine would be powerful, but 1,000 times more so if posted online only seconds after the plane hit it.
Robin Le Poidevin of Leeds University wrote a few years back that
human perception of time may be an actual sixth sense; even if your eyes and ears were shuttered, you'd still note the passage of time by the simple thoughts flowing in your head. He wrote
"perception of temporal duration is crucially bound up with memory" -- that is, your memory acts like a radioactive particle decaying slowly into the past. With every passing hour, your experience of the world moves from colorful reality to grainy, black-and-white ghosts.
Humans judge sensory input in context -- so the
closer something happens to
now, the more powerful it seems because it is associated with all the recent, still-vivid memories flooding your mind. Our brains, of course, quickly forget things, even those that we manage to transition to long-term memory ... so as our mental context to judge events degrades, we may devalue the events that happened next to them on the same mental clock.
A kiss this instant is exciting. A minute ago it's a warm memory. A decade ago and the event dissolves into a story in some dry novel, barely worth a revisit.
Perhaps our modern itch to quicken the pace of news reports is more than media frenzies or technology enablers, but instead tied to evolution, the fact that what happens at this
exact second -- or close to it -- may swing our survival. An inbound storm, a report of lions in the savanna, word that the clan next door is preparing for war are all threats our ancestors met and survived to pass their genes down to us.
So we watch what happens close to us in our random location on the spectrum of time. This explains why you throw out old magazines, even if you haven't read them, or why grainy photos from amateur cell phones make Page 1 in national newspapers. We care about what is close, not distant, and that includes the vast fading spectrum of time.