Three minute read.

Must I know how long it will take to read an online news story? Apparently, yes. What next? Restaurants? Coq au vin: twenty minute eat. 

Three minutes. Walk once around a tennis court. Rinse the afternoon tea cups. Decide whether to get a dog or a cat.

Read-time tags are useful in one way, like tram trackers. God knows how anyone ever caught a bus before the internet. Actually, no. The latter are far more useful. It could be raining.

—It helps the readers, says the editor. You can’t see the length of online stories like you can in physical newspapers.

—I thought all newspapers were physical, replies the writer. Like physical cash, or physical shops. Why is everything real called ‘physical’ now? And you should be able to roughly judge the length of a story by its headline.

—How? says the editor. 

—Moreover, some newspapers have always split stories across pages. I’ve never seen a printed front page messed up with ‘15 minute read’ .

—(Pause) Did you just say ‘moreover’? 

—Also. Plus. Additionally. Whatever. Stop editing me for God’s sake. 

—And to your point, there’s no real difference between an online ‘15 minute read’ and a printed ‘continued on page 24’. They’re mere pointers for the reader.

—On the contrary, there’s a world of difference. The latter means the reader is halfway through a story; the former implies even starting it is an option. That’s not journalism. That’s pessimism. Does the butcher ask you if you really want to eat that steak?

*

The writer has a point but he should give up on it, because he is a hundred years out of date. In 1924, at the start of a golden era in mass publishing, a magazine entitled Liberty published read-time tags—yes, the same annoying concept: and on the printed page. James Thurber satirised the practice in a New Yorker article shortly after:

The ladies’ literary society has come under the influence of the magazine Liberty, which has set a new vogue … by announcing, before each article, the official reading time—for example: 14 minutes, 30 seconds. … The gathering of the Wednesday Afternoon Browning Club … was run off this week at the home of Mrs. Charles F. Turnbush… The sprints this week were particularly interesting. W.E. Henley’s ‘Invictus’ was won by Mrs. George Preen, of 247 Civic Park Drive, in 8 2/5 seconds, lowering by two-fifths of a second the previous mark, set two weeks ago by Mrs. Harry Leeper, of The Elms, Glenn Junction. Poe’s ‘To Helen’ was also won by Mrs. Preen in the snappy time of 6 1/5 seconds … In the middle distances, the ‘Evangeline’ of Longfellow was a particularly stirring event… won by Mrs. Katherine Murch in 30 minutes and 26 seconds. … a new world’s record. Mrs. Leeper, who finished in 30 minutes and 18 seconds, was disqualified for slurring her nouns. The feature of the meet was ‘Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star,’ for the kiddies. Little Greta Preen won this event in the time of 2 3/5 seconds.