I had a good friend who, as a conversation strategy, would ask you a question on a favourite topic and then, just when you were in full flight, about a minute in, would cut you dead, saying, “anyway, back to me…” It was delivered as kind of ironic, but the intention was, undeniably, to do exactly that: turn the conversation back to her favourite subject. Herself.

I was reminded of this while reading a book review the other day. (I know! Such a rare and wonderful thing in the modern media!) Local book, local media, and I made my way through the few hundred words allocated so miserly to what were once a necessity, and, reaching the end thought, you know, I know very little more about that book than when I began five minutes ago. My green tea is a little cooler, the clock hands have inched closer to wherever it is we’re heading, but enlightenment of the book discussed? Um, no.

But, and there’s always a but, my knowledge of the reviewer’s interests had been added to quite significantly. I knew their opinion on a range of insignificant subjects, some minor, some political, but I was no closer to a decision on whether I would buy the book or not. But wasn’t that once the reason for a review?

Reviews used to be A Thing. I had the privilege to read and review hundreds of books over a twenty year period, and then as the space allocated to book reviews dwindled, and the online “experts” multiplied, reviewers became unnecessary and redundant, in all senses of the words. That’s OK, that’s progress, of sorts. But that means that the few reviews still remaining in the mainstream media - The Listener, the New Zealand Herald - matter even more, I figure. Which makes it even more of a travesty to waste weasel words when words of wisdom would have worked.

This reviewer is hardly alone. We thought the 80s was the “me” generation, but never have we been so self-obsessed, so sure that “every fleeting thought is a pearl,” as Elvis Costello once sang. And those thoughts are a)increasingly all about the deliverer and not about the material and b) delivered and distributed without consideration or foresight. I am guilty too, course - here’s another piece of noise ready for consumption.

But if you’re not adding to a good debate, you’re sucking the atmosphere dry. Why? Why can’t a review/post/blog be about something other than the author? Or the business? (How many corporate comms are all about them and never about the customer?)

Sometimes, it’s wiser to show restraint of tongue and pen. But I fear restraint is quaint, and a thing of the past. As Elvis went on to say in the same song, “Don’t you know how to be dumb?” Clearly not.