By: Samuel Guerra
A few weeks ago, the image of the “performative male” surged into the cultural spotlight, flooding social media feeds. If you missed it, here’s the gist: the meme satirizes a certain archetype, a man intent on meticulously curating his image to be perceived as intellectual, indie, and cool. Picture this: oversized sweaters, canvas tote bags, wired earbuds playing indie playlists, cups of matcha and crucially, a conspicuously displayed book he’s probably not actually reading. All part of a staged performance designed to attract admiration, intrigue or romantic attention.
That last detail, the book, quickly spawned its own viral sub-trend: “performative reading.” What began as lighthearted and funny internet satire soon spilled into the real world. People started snapping candid photos of strangers “caught mid-performance” on park benches, public transportation seats and café corners. These photos were often accompanied by captions calling out the theatricality of it all. The line between playful observation and mocking blurred, turning a meme into a cultural commentary on authenticity and the lengths we go to be seen, even when we think no one’s watching.
I wonder why we label public reading “performative”? If everything we do in public is by nature a performance, why single out books? The truth is, reading a physical book in public has become such an unusual act that when someone does it, we often assume it’s for show rather than substance.
If you’re holding a printed copy of The Southern Accent in public, what might people think? Maybe you’re outdated for clutching paper in a digital age. Maybe you’re trying to signal intellect. Or maybe, just maybe, you’re simply reading the news, and that’s perfectly okay. Not every act of reading needs to be a performance for others.
Historically, reading was a luxury reserved for the elite such as tutors for aristocrats and private libraries as symbols of wealth. Even for centuries after the invention of the printing press, literacy was a privilege, not the norm. Today, if you’ve achieved high school-level literacy—congrats! Statistically speaking, that puts you ahead of half the country. According to the 2024 report from the National Literacy Institute, 54% of U.S. adults read below a sixth-grade level, and a staggering 21% are illiterate. Amidst deadlines, all-nighters, and the chaos of student life, it’s easy to forget that for millions, reading isn’t a habit, it’s an aspiration.
In an era where anti-intellectual policies are increasing, even “performative reading” can be useful because it normalizes books in public spaces. It dismantles the myth that reading belongs only to academics. In 2023, 46% of Americans didn’t read a single book (YouGov). Rather than creating policies to further stimulate learning, in May, the National Science Foundation slashed new grant funding by more than half, its lowest level since at least 1990, and the previous month, the National Endowment for the Humanities canceled more than 85 percent of its existing grants.
In this context, picking up a book, whether alone or in public, should not be considered performative or pretentious. It’s a reminder that knowledge, curiosity and the simple act of turning pages remain vital, even when institutions abandon them.
