Cultural Criticism

The Return of the Long-Form Essay in a Distracted Age

The long-form essay was widely declared a casualty of the attention economy. The evidence of the past decade suggests a more complicated story, and a more durable form.

On this page 5 sections
  1. 1 What the form is and what it does
  2. 2 The institutional picture
  3. 3 The reading evidence
  4. 4 The cultural argument for the form
  5. 5 The present situation

The diagnosis was confident and, at the time it was most frequently advanced, seemingly well-supported by the evidence. The attention economy — the system in which human attention became the scarce resource competed for by an expanding universe of digital content producers — was held to be structurally hostile to the long-form essay. The form requires time, patience, sustained concentration, and a willingness to follow an argument across several thousand words without the consolations of resolution at the end of each paragraph. These qualities, it was widely argued, were precisely the ones that the digital environment was most efficiently eroding. The long-form essay was not quite dead; but it was in managed decline, a survivor from an earlier information economy that was finding fewer readers with each passing year.

The evidence of the decade since this diagnosis was most confidently advanced does not, on examination, straightforwardly support it. The long-form essay has not flourished in the way that short-form digital content has flourished; the comparison, in terms of audience numbers, is not close. But the form has demonstrated a resilience that the attention-economy thesis did not predict, and in some respects — in terms of the quality of work being produced, in terms of the institutional structures supporting its production, in terms of the seriousness with which its readers engage — the long-form essay is in better health than it was at the moment the decline narrative was most confidently rehearsed.

What the form is and what it does

The essay, in the tradition that runs from Montaigne through Johnson and Hazlitt and Lamb and James Baldwin and Susan Sontag, is a form defined less by length than by the quality of attention it brings to its subject. The word itself derives from the French essai, an attempt or trial — and the form, in its best practice, has always preserved something of this experimental character. The essay does not deliver conclusions; it moves toward them, or around them, or discovers that the conclusions it anticipated were not quite the ones the subject required. It is a form of thinking in public, and its distinctive pleasure — for the writer and, at its best, for the reader — lies in the experience of following thought as it develops rather than receiving the results of thought once development is complete.

The long-form essay adds to these qualities the further possibility of sustained development: the capacity to hold a complex question in view across sufficient length to examine it from multiple angles, to follow subsidiary arguments, to circle back and reconsider, and to arrive at a conclusion that carries the weight of the preceding examination rather than merely asserting itself. The scholarship on the essay tradition consistently identifies length not as a self-justifying feature of the form but as a consequence of the complexity of the subjects that the essay, at its best, undertakes to address. The long-form essay is long because the questions it takes seriously cannot be adequately addressed in shorter compass.

The institutional picture

An examination of the institutional landscape for the long-form essay reveals a picture more varied than the decline narrative suggested. The traditional venues — the literary reviews and cultural journals of the English-speaking world, their equivalents in French, German, Italian, Spanish, and the smaller European literary cultures — have not uniformly declined. Several have reduced their print circulations significantly, as have almost all print publications in the digital period. But the institutions themselves have in many cases survived, and in some cases have found that digital publication extends their reach to readers who would not previously have accessed them.

More significantly, the past decade has seen the emergence of new institutional forms supporting long-form essay publication. The newsletter format, in particular, has provided a mechanism through which essayists can publish long-form work directly to interested readers, bypassing the editorial gatekeeping of traditional publications while maintaining a relationship with an audience that has actively opted in to the exchange. The evidence from the most successful essay newsletters suggests that audiences for sustained, intellectually serious long-form work exist in larger numbers than the attention-economy thesis implied — but that these audiences require institutional forms that make the work easily findable and that create a clear expectation of what the publication offers.

The reading evidence

The question of how long-form essays are actually read in the digital environment — as opposed to how they circulate, or how often they are opened — is one on which the evidence is less secure. The analytics that digital publication makes available tell one part of the story: scroll depth, time on page, completion rates. What they do not capture is the quality of the reading experience or the degree to which the ideas engaged with in the essay are subsequently thought about, discussed, or acted upon by the reader. The scholarship on reading as a practice is broadly agreed that the most important outcomes of literary and essayistic reading are not straightforwardly measurable by engagement metrics.

The qualitative evidence — from reader surveys, from the correspondence that essayists and editors report receiving from readers of long-form work, from the patterns of citation and discussion that the most influential essays generate — suggests that the readers of long-form essays read, in many cases, with an intensity and a subsequent engagement that shorter-form content rarely produces. This is consistent with the theoretical accounts of what long-form reading does: that it creates, for the duration of the reading, a kind of sustained cognitive partnership with the writer, one that engages the reader’s own thinking and memory in ways that skimming or passive consumption do not.

The cultural argument for the form

The cultural argument for the long-form essay — as distinct from the institutional or economic argument — rests on the claim that certain questions require the form’s particular resources if they are to be addressed with the depth and honesty they deserve. The essay can accommodate ambiguity, qualification, reversal, and self-correction in ways that shorter forms cannot; it can follow an argument where the argument actually leads rather than where the format of the publication requires it to end up; it can engage with the full complexity of its subject rather than the simplified version of that complexity that a word count or editorial formula constrains. These are not decorative advantages; they are substantive ones, and they matter in proportion to the seriousness and complexity of the questions being addressed.

The scholarship on public intellectual culture consistently identifies the decline of the long-form essay — to the extent that such decline has occurred — as one of the factors contributing to the deterioration of public discourse. The argument is not that long-form essays are inherently superior to other forms of intellectual communication, but that certain kinds of thought — the kind that involves sustained attention, careful qualification, and genuine engagement with difficulty — can only be adequately performed in forms that provide the space those qualities require. When the institutional and economic pressures of the media environment crowd out such forms, the result is not merely a change in the format of public discourse but a change in its epistemic character.

The present situation

The long-form essay, in the current moment, occupies a paradoxical position. It reaches smaller audiences than it did in the era of general-interest literary magazines with mass circulations; this is a genuine diminishment, and it would be dishonest to minimise it. But the audiences it reaches are, in many cases, more committed, more attentive, and more actively engaged with the work than the mass audiences of the earlier period necessarily were. The institutional forms supporting the essay have multiplied and diversified, even as the dominant forms of media consumption have moved in other directions. And the quality of the best essay writing being produced — measured by the standards appropriate to the form rather than by the metrics appropriate to other forms of digital content — is, by most assessments, high.

The form’s future is likely to depend less on its competition with shorter-form content for mass attention than on its ability to cultivate and retain the committed readerships that have always been its proper audience. The evidence of the past decade suggests that these readerships exist, that they are willing to invest time and, where necessary, money in access to work that meets the standards the form demands, and that the institutional forms capable of connecting writers to these readers are, slowly and unevenly, developing. The long-form essay will not return to the mass circulation of an earlier period; but it does not need to do so in order to fulfil the cultural function that makes its survival worth arguing for.