TheBakersfieldCalifornian.com

When my children were youngsters, I developed a theory of what I thought of as "conscious parenting," meaning that everything I did as a mother had potential long-term and life-changing effects on my daughters, and I wasn't ever going to know which of my words or actions was going to stick in a way that lasted into adulthood. Everything mattered.

I figured my parents would be astonished to know the smallest, offhand things they'd said that had stayed with me and formed me. I didn't ever want to behave flippantly or thoughtlessly; in other words, I didn't want to raise my children unconsciously. I wanted to be as aware of my decisions as a parent as I would be at any important occupation. It has, of course, been more of a goal than a perfect practice.

In light of that philosophy, an interview I recently heard with the author Clay Johnson has resonated with me. In his book "The Information Diet: A Case for Conscious Consumption," Johnson addresses the way we digest information. In a relatively short time, our access to information has grown from the morning newspaper to the constantly updated online edition, from the half-hour evening news to 24-hour news cable news cannels, from the reference section of the public library to Google. We have a surplus of ready information. But rather than making us well-rounded and better informed, says Johnson, the glut of material available to us to consume can actually increase our ignorance and limit our insight.

Johnson compares the conscious consumption of information to the conscious consumption of food. The cover of his book, in fact, is designed to look like a nutritional information label. If we eat only the junk food that is constantly marketed to us, he maintains, we can become obese and ill. A food company's advertising is concerned not with improving our health, but with targeting our spending. If, however, as eaters, we educate ourselves and take control of our diet, we are apt to eat more selectively, consciously and healthfully. We also tend to eat lower on the food chain: less processed, fewer additives, more whole-grain, more plant-based. Similarly, much of the information we are offered has been processed and targeted before it reaches us. If we take in only junk information, we risk ignorance and a less healthy society.

Johnson's "Information Diet" encourages us to consume news lower on the food chain. Rather than reading an opinion about a proposed law, for example, he advocates reading the actual bill, which, thanks to the Internet, is immediately available to us. Rather than watching an edited clip of a congressional debate, we can peruse the transcript of the proceedings. This kind of reading can be slow going. But the closer we stick to the source of information, the less adulterated it is. The slick and processed product of a network or website with its customized agenda is not a whole food.

"Clicks have consequences," says Johnson, meaning that the prominence of a headline on a website is directly affected by the number of times someone has clicked on it. If we click mostly on junk news stories, there is little incentive for media to produce more intellectually nutritious offerings. Conscious consumption requires that we pass up the deep-fried news and opt for the raw.

Another troubling point that Johnson makes is that "the seeds of opinion can be dangerous things. Once we begin to be persuaded of something, we not only seek out confirmation for that thing, but we also refute fact even in the face of incontrovertible evidence." We look for affirmation, and avoid any challenge to our accepted belief. Objective fact is only one casualty of this destructive habit.

I am as guilty as the next person. I was listening to Clay Johnson talk about his book on NPR, which for me is a comfortable mental spot. By keeping my car radio tuned to public radio, I censor my own intake of information. I prefer to listen to journalists with whom I am in accord, and whom I respect. In this way, I am much like the readers who have written to me over the years and, because they disagreed so vehemently with something I wrote, have assured me that they will never read another column of mine.

So the other day, I switched the station on my car radio from NPR to Rush Limbaugh's show. The language of assault was in full force, but I listened. It did cause me to articulate, at least to myself on the freeway, why I disagreed with his analysis. I felt downright uncomfortable listening to Limbaugh. I was not affirmed, but I was also not informed. Rush is definitely at the red-meatiest top of the information food chain.

Clay Johnson's thesis is important, especially in an election year: whether we gravitate to Jon Stewart or Bill O'Reilly, to MSN or Fox, we must be conscious of how our chosen sources of information influence the stands we take. Society benefits when we consumers follow a healthy, whole-foods information diet. We are what we eat.

These are the opinions of Valerie Schultz, not necessarily those of The Californian. Email her at vschultz22@gmail.com