In an age where the average TikTok user can scroll through 260 videos in under 35 minutes, a disturbing trend is emerging: fewer and fewer young people possess the analytical tools needed to critically engage with the resurgence of far-right politics on British streets.
While masked demonstrators clad in black gather outside media offices and port towns, brandishing banners and barking talking points about “reclaiming our borders,” a YouGov poll reveals that 53% of 18-24 year olds lack even a basic opinion on whether such displays constitute legitimate protest. The numbers are more than just statistics—they represent a generation increasingly unable to process complex political realities through the fragmented lens of social media consumption.
The Reading Crisis That Knows No Borders
The decline of sustained reading habits extends far beyond personal preference—it represents a fundamental shift in how citizens engage with information and, by extension, democracy itself. According to recent surveys, 35% of British adults now classify themselves as “lapsed readers,” having abandoned books and long-form journalism for the immediate gratification of short-form digital content.
This transformation isn’t confined to Britain’s shores. Across the Atlantic, focus groups conducted by the American Academy of Arts and Sciences revealed that many high school students view recreational reading as “an alien practice.” The implications are stark: when citizens cannot parse nuanced political arguments or historical context, they become easy targets for simplistic messaging and emotional manipulation.
James Marriott’s new book The New Dark Ages arrives at a crucial moment, offering a concise but urgent examination of how our digital habits are reshaping society. At just 208 pages, the work mirrors the attention spans it critiques, delivering its warnings through accessible prose rather than academic density.
When Fascism Becomes Just Another Scroll
The recent demonstrations by far-right groups in Dover and Portsmouth weren’t isolated incidents—they represent a coordinated effort to exploit the very conditions created by our declining literacy rates. These gatherings, complete with balaclavas and paramilitary-style formations, evoke uncomfortable parallels to historical precedents: Oswald Mosley’s blackshirts, the Ku Klux Klan, and various fascist movements that once swept across Europe.
Yet for those consuming news primarily through TikTok feeds and Instagram stories, these ominous echoes are lost in the endless scroll. The visual spectacle becomes indistinguishable from viral entertainment—a skateboarding video here, a street fight there, a trick-performing dog somewhere else. Context dissolves, and with it, the ability to recognize dangerous political movements for what they truly represent.
This normalization process benefits authoritarians and demagogues who understand that complex policy positions, when stripped down to slogans and soundbites, become nearly impossible to challenge. Donald Trump’s communication style exemplifies this phenomenon—his preference for piling assertion upon assertion rather than constructing logical arguments resonates precisely because it matches the fragmented nature of modern information consumption.
The Digital Firewall Against Critical Thought
Technology hasn’t merely changed how we consume information; it has fundamentally altered what we choose to consume. The same algorithms that serve up dance challenges and cooking tutorials also amplify content that triggers strong emotional responses. Anger, fear, and outrage perform better in engagement metrics than measured analysis or thoughtful discourse.
This creates what amounts to a digital firewall around critical thinking itself. Those seeking to understand complex political developments must actively seek out long-form content, subscribe to quality journalism, and invest time in deep reading—habits that run counter to the convenience culture of smartphone apps. Meanwhile, purveyors of misinformation and extremist ideology operate within the same attention economy, often generating more clicks and shares than traditional news outlets.
The consequences extend beyond individual awareness to collective democratic function. When citizens cannot distinguish between legitimate political movements and fascist revivals, when historical context becomes irrelevant, and when emotional reaction replaces rational analysis, the foundations of liberal democracy begin to erode. The very concept of shared reality—the bedrock upon which informed public debate depends—becomes increasingly fragile.
The Post-Literate Future We’re Building
Perhaps most concerning is the speed with which these changes are occurring. Between 2009 and 2019, over 320 British newspapers closed their doors, eliminating local sources of community information and investigative reporting. This consolidation of media ownership coincides with the rise of social platforms that prioritise viral content over verified facts, creating information vacuums that extremist voices eagerly fill.
The Brexit referendum served as an early warning sign of this trend. Many voters reported feeling overwhelmed by the complexity of issues and simply disengaged from the entire process. Now, as similar dynamics play out in the context of rising fascist movements, the stakes have grown considerably higher.
Marriott’s central thesis—that mass literacy and mass democracy emerged together and may not survive independently—demands serious consideration. The evidence suggests we’re already witnessing the unraveling of that relationship, as citizens become increasingly divorced from the information necessary to make informed decisions about their governance.
Why it Matters
The convergence of declining reading habits, algorithmic information distribution, and resurgent far-right politics represents more than a cultural shift—it signals a potential crisis in democratic legitimacy itself. When citizens cannot access or process the information necessary for informed participation in civic life, the very foundations of representative government come into question. The fascist demonstrations in British ports aren’t just political theater; they’re symptoms of a deeper societal dysfunction where the tools of critical thought have been systematically dismantled by our digital habits. Without intervention, we risk sleepwalking into a future where authoritarian movements operate unchallenged because too few people possess either the literacy skills or historical awareness needed to recognise them for what they are. The stakes couldn’t be higher: the survival of democratic institutions may depend on our ability to restore deep reading practices before it’s too late.
