How taking away comics created today's reading crisis

Walk into any university library, college reading hall, or a hostel common room in Assam, and the scene is familiar: students bathed in the blue glow of smartphones and laptops.

We hear the constant refrain from teachers, intellectuals and parents, “This generation doesn’t read anymore.” While technology is often blamed, data shows a deeper truth. We did not suddenly lose attention spans; we lost the infrastructure that built them.

To understand what we have lost, we must look back at the mechanics of how readers are actually made. Think back to your elementary school days.

For many of us, there was a specific, precarious moment when we learned how to read, decoding sounds, recognising letters and stringing them together. But there was a massive, often insurmountable, gap between possessing the technical skill of reading, and actually enjoying the act.

School textbooks were mandatory, heavy and often dry, filled with information we were forced to memorise. Novels required a level of mental endurance and visualisation that most children simply hadn’t developed yet.

But one thing that perfectly bridged that gap between the wheels of imagination and the gateway to literature was the comic book culture.

This transition isn’t just nostalgia; it is backed by robust educational theory. Linguist Stephen Krashen famously proposed the “Bridge Hypothesis.” His research suggests that “light reading” – specifically comics – acts as a critical conduit to future heavier and complex reading.

Comics provide what he calls “compelling input” in a low-anxiety environment. Because the reader is supported by visuals – the expression on a character’s face, the action lines of a punch, the background – the fear of not understanding a word is significantly reduced.

This lowers the “affective filter,” allowing children to build reading stamina without realising they are doing “work.” They learn to turn pages rapidly to follow a narrative arc and to sit still for hours – skills that are essential for reading Tolstoy or Tagore later in life.

For those of us who grew up in the 1990s and early 2000s in Assam, comics were the thrill of the hunt. We remember the golden days when a trip to Panbazar or the annual Guwahati Book Fair wasn’t just a boring errand to buy syllabus books; it was a tactical mission.

At that time, Indian comics like Tinkle, Chacha Chaudhary, Pinki, Nagraj and imported ones like DC and Marvels were the ultimate currency. They were affordable, usually ranging between 30 and 50 rupees, a significant investment of saved pocket money.

We had this fierce, informal competition among friends: who could build the biggest stack! The schoolbag wasn’t just heavy with textbooks; it was heavy with the “contraband” of the latest issues exchanged during recess.

Our obsession didn’t stop at reading. There was a tactile creativity associated with comics that screens can never replicate. We didn’t just consume these stories; we remixed them. Many of us remember the afternoons spent with scissors and glue.

We would snip out Wolverine’s claws or Iron Man’s helmet and paste them into scrapbooks, creating our own chaotic collages. We built new storylines on those scrapbook pages, mixing universes long before the MCU made it cool.

This act of cutting, arranging and pasting was an early form of creative expression. It taught us composition and storytelling, which were integral parts of how we engaged with art and literature.

While we fought for comics, society often fought against them. They often treated comics as “junk food” for the brain, but scientific data proves the exact opposite.

A landmark study from the University of Oregon shows the vocabulary of comic books averages 53.5 rare words per 1,000 words. To put that in perspective, children’s books average only 30.9 rare words and adult conversation trails at a mere 17.3.

When we read Tintin, we encountered words like “botany,” “typhoon,” “mirage” and “diplomacy.” Going through comics was like being exposed to an encyclopaedia of new words and information. We were unwittingly training our brains for the vast outside world.

Despite their value, comics have disappeared into today’s brain-rot social media trends.

And the result is a visible reading stamina crisis. Many students today struggle with long texts because they have never had a gentle starting point.

Rebuilding reading culture requires restoring comics as affordable, accessible and socially visible, supported by parents, schools, libraries and reading communities.

And through that bridge, we can guide a new generation back to the joy of turning pages, discovering stories and building a lifelong relationship with books.