This year, I want to read 2000 books.
At the end of the year, I inevitably fall into a rabbit hole of reading about the “Best and Worst Books of the Year.” I might not read the books discussed, but I’m curious about which books are given the attention.
However, in each of these articles, videos or TikToks, the creator always starts by highlighting the number of books they read. I’ve seen a range of people, from individuals who read 10 books in the year, to someone who reads 360. Seeing obscenely high numbers always comes as a shock. I’m left wondering about how often people are reading and what other responsibilities they have, that allow them to read so much.
Don’t get me wrong, the opportunity to spend most of my day reading seems like a dream. Except, as a student, it’s not entirely feasible.
Since 2017, I’ve set myself a reading goal. It’s usually a lower number because I know I’ll be able to complete the challenge without stressing myself out. But a few weeks ago, as I was going to set my 2025 reading challenge, I noticed most of the people I knew had set the goal of reading 100+ books a year. Which begs the question, are reading challenges actually promoting deep-reading, or is it promoting a culture of speed-reading books, so you can say that you’ve read them?
For the creator who reads 360 books, this means listening to audiobooks at 3x speed. While this is an efficient way to finish a book, I wonder if the reader is able to soak in the words and reflect on the story as they’re reading. If you’re so caught up in meeting the number goal, is reading an opportunity to learn and reflect, or just another task on your to-do list?
In tandem with this conversation, is the conversation about “the fall of intellectualism”. In October 2024, journalist Rose Horowitch published an article in the The Atlantic about U.S. College Kids who seemingly couldn’t read. The article was slightly sensationalized, but it raised good points. The decrease in critical reading in early education has prevented adults from being able to connect with literature. They aren’t able to understand major themes, and in some cases, can’t even read a whole book, even if it’s assigned for homework. So, with that in mind, shouldn’t we be happy that people are reading, even if they’re reading 360 books at 3x speed?
It’s a good point, and something that I’ve been thinking about for a while. I was considering whether I even wanted to set a challenge this year. Sometimes, the challenge can feel like a burden and the constant reminder that I’m “1 book behind schedule” can make reading seem like a chore. Not only that, but I’m also curious as to whether a reading challenge is actually hindering my reading. For example, I usually gravitate towards shorter books. However, it is entirely plausible that this preference is inadvertently motivated by my need to read more books in a shorter amount of time, to meet my reading goal. If I didn’t have a reading goal, would I finally be able to read Crime and Punishment, Anna Karenina, or any of those 1000+ page classics? Would that time investment seem more worth it, when I wasn’t racing against a clock?
I wish I had the answer for you.
It turns out that not setting a reading challenge this year was stressing me out. I mean, I’ve done it since 2017, and at the end of the year, I enjoy analyzing the data. But I also understand how detrimental they can be for reading, forcing people to read more quickly and shallowly to reach an arbitrary number goal. So, I did set a reading challenge, but I set one that is relatively low. This means that I have more time to read each book and could tackle some of those longer classics because I know I’ll be able to easily reach my goal.
While this is a good compromise for now, I hope that next year I don’t set a reading challenge at all. That way, I can get a better understanding of how I read when there’s no external expectations. Who knows, maybe I’ll only read one book that year, but at least I’ll have actually read it.