And….it just happened.

Another one of those, check yourself before you wreck yourself moments in modern day America.

The New York Times announced yesterday a new site, Upshot, which will essentially explain how to read the news that you, um, well…read. Aside from the whole Globo Gym vibe, what’s not to like, right?

According to their statement, Upshot believes many people do not understand the news as much as they would like [read: apparently we’re idiots]. We want to grasp big, complicated stories – like Obamacare, inequality, political campaigns, real estate and stock markets, but we’re just incapable of doing so, they say.

So the good folks at the totally cool, non-egotistical Times are going to help us all out in order to allow us the privilege of carrying on a conversation with family, friends and co-workers.

Sweet! Thanks, NYT!

Syrup-y sarcasm aside, I do see one reason to do something like this. We’re in the midst of a golden age of data. We’ve got data about data about how we react to data. Sites like FiveThirtyEight are giving us charts, numbers and graphs about all kinds of trends in science, economics, education, politics and sports.

If you truly want to know the numbers behind something – anything – now is your time to bask in the knowledge those numbers exist in droves. The only problem is we cannot keep up.

Before we can comprehend and understand something, there is a new hot topic just waiting to be data-driven into your newsfeeds and give you a headache – to which the data totally will tell you how many Tylenol you should take depending on the placement, angle and duration of said headache.

But there is another problem with the age of information – or several.

Do we need it? I mean, ALL of it? What are we doing with all this newfound information? And how can this education compete with our other obsession? You know, the one where we are celebrity-crazed and self-serving our own interests?

Case in point: suppose the data told you that social media was awful for you, would you quit? Or that HBO programming was written to promote a set of Illuminati based ideals? Or what if they said it is unhealthy to have more than 150 friends on Facebook?

What if some set of analysis told us that all of this was trivial and meaningless?

Or how about this one: say some information is unearthed that proves we were better off emotionally in the 1830s, 1950s or 1980s and that all this technology, this rapidly evolving world is actually hindering our enjoyment of life?

Data talks, but we don’t always have to listen, right?

Over the past few years, I’ve been accused of perhaps being a bit too idealist. Generally speaking, I can understand why.

Nowadays, you cannot be too positive. It does not jive with the vibe. Anger, resentment, hostility bring reaction. And as Scott Van Pelt of ESPN said recently on his radio show, about Toronto mayor Rob Ford, it serves as no better proof that the best thing to be is famous, because it brings a reaction.

And we react the most to this culture of celebrity and negativity. Whoever is stirring the pot doesn’t matter as much the fact that we allow it to be stirred.

Which is entirely the reason why writing like this doesn’t get a push for eyeballs from The New York Times or Grantland: it’s not the trending, data-driven, analytical pieces being devoured and shared. Nobody wants to read it, they say.

By no means am I lamenting my status or place in this wired, literary world.

In fact, I am quite content with leaving these pieces for some future generation to unearth : “Look at this guy, it was like he time-traveled 60 years into the future and tried to convince people to proceed with caution and appealed to their common sense and values! What a maroon – those people needed Upshot to explain the news for crying out loud!”

The truth is, it is a wired world – and it’s hard to get by with a smile. (Thanks to Cat Stevens for the inspiration to that hokey line.) Regardless, it remains: positivity at best seems to sell a product. Tony Robbins and quite a few out there make a good living encouraging others to stay positive.

That has never been the point of this, though.

Our contributions to society at large, to life in general, do not have to be based on a data set, or be outwardly public and self-serving.

We continue to do ourselves an injustice by ignoring the tipping point, you know, the one where we are farther and farther removed from the crux of our core values. But those are not punch lines, they should not be used as psychological tools.

In the film, The American President, Michael Douglas’ character, Andrew Shepherd has a great retort about how you win elections:

“You gather a group of middle-aged, middle-class, middle-income voters, who remember with longing an easier time, and you talk to them about family and American values and character.”

The response was intended to vilify the opponent who had gone on personal attacks against him, or to address the general perception of American politics in the 1990s and winning elections – which is still very much true today.

But the stark reality is what was missed in that quote, which is that there is truth in it. On some level, it is indeed what people are looking for. It is what might win elections because it is what people actually want: A time where things moved just a shade slower, trusted easier, worried less.

Values and character are not ideals to be strived for, but instead to be lived. They are proven through prudence, rationality, frugality, respect and pragmatism. In short, none of the things we truly are currently in society as a whole.

We assume that all this information will lend us a greater understanding or perspective on any number of topics, certainly of humanity and our role on this planet. It will not, because in some way, the message of Upshot is true: we do not understand everything. We cannot.

We were never probably meant to.

But what we can do is use this data and information to better ourselves. And if we are able to accomplish that, to make our lives better individually, then we’ll gradually make this world a better place, too.

Now that’s an upshot with no downside.