The 'Bad' Guy

Johnson's solution to this? Well, it turns out he and his wife don't watch much regular TV. "We started watching all these TV shows on DVD," he says -- "Six Feet Under," "24," "The West Wing" -- "which is the most beautiful way to watch them, because you get to see the long format narrative at its best." Right now they're watching "Lost" with the aid of their TiVo machine, which also allows them to skip the commercials.

Give him credit for consistency: Johnson doesn't stop at saying these widely praised, long-form TV dramas are more challenging than they used to be. Even reality television, he maintains, is better for viewers than old-time game shows or "Mork & Mindy." Why? Because it enhances the viewers' emotional intelligence by getting them to "analyze and recall the full range of social relationships in a large group."

Oh, please! Wouldn't they learn faster by turning off the tube and interacting with actual human beings ?

"Yes. Right. Exactly right," he says calmly. But if you assume "people are going to spend some amount of their time in front of screens . . ."

Not assuming that, apparently, isn't an option.

Time to bring up the passage that so maddened you when you came across it, near the end of Johnson's hymn to pop culture. The one in the section beginning "Now for the bad news."

It's true, he finally admits, that "a specific, historically crucial kind of reading has grown less common in this society: sitting down with a three-hundred-page book and following its argument or narrative without a great deal of distraction." It's true that video games and TV do a poor job of "training our minds to follow a sustained textual argument or narrative" -- at least one that "doesn't involve genuine interactivity."

But not to worry: "We still have schools and parents to teach wisdom that the popular culture fails to impart."

When you first read this sentence, all you could think was: Thanks a lot, pal! No problem! We'll just drag 'em away from those Xboxes and whup 'em into shape!

You convey this reaction to the sentence's author. Just what does he think schools and parents are competing with, you ask.

He is unfazed.

After all, he has made his argument in a 200-page book.

"Middlemarch," too, will doubtless survive, he says.

'He Seems Really Into Books'

"Hey, little man," Johnson says. Here comes that cute toddler again, heading straight for Dad, paying not the slightest attention to the matching PowerBooks that sit on the counter nearby. He will soon enough, though. His brother already does.

Not quite 4 yet, the older boy "pops down in the morning, goes up on that chair, turns on that computer, pulls down his user account, types in his password, watches the Web browser, goes to Sesamestreet.org and starts playing these little interactive games," Johnson says. So before he has started to read and write, he's already got a life on the screen.

Does this worry his father? It does not.

"He seems really into books," Johnson says. "Being read books is a crucial part of his life." And never mind that they read him "mainly programming manuals."

Joke! That's a joke! The man is pulling your leg! The kid is a huge Curious George fan!

In truth, Johnson's life appears far more balanced than his book. Yes, there are two laptops on the counter, but right next to them hangs a Barnes & Noble tote bag with a portrait of Charles Dickens on it, and nearby sits a copy of Ian McEwan's "Saturday," which Johnson recently read (and loved).

Yes, there's a giant, flat Philips Widescreen mounted on the living room wall, but it's surrounded by shelves and shelves of books, among them "Complexity: The Emerging Science at the Edge of Order and Chaos," by Mitchell Waldrop, and "The Golden Bowl," by Henry James.

"Everything Bad Is Good for You" was deliberately written as a polemic, Johnson says, and he knows perfectly well it's one-sided. He could have written a longer, more balanced book that said, "Here's an overall assessment of the entire state of today's culture," he says, "but that's the kind of book that nobody listens to."

People have been listening to his, at least to judge from the continuing flow of media requests: He's been doing interviews for weeks, and as he speaks, in early June, he's about to go on "The Daily Show" and Jim Lehrer's "NewsHour." What's more -- despite his fears, and present company excepted -- he's been surprised at how positive the responses have been.

Ah, but you've got a theory of why that is.

Call it the Red Wine Syndrome. Take something that's known to be wildly destructive when taken in excess: something that can wreck your liver, destroy your family, create bloody mayhem on the highway and turn you into a pathetic, falling-down wretch. Then have some scientists announce that, taken in moderation , this thing can . . . prevent cancer!

If you're a drinker who's sick and tired of being scolded, you're going to be pretty excited about this news.

Johnson laughs. He's heard this kind of connection made before.

"A few desperate people," he says, "are, like: ' Please tell me that I can smoke again!' "