We live in curious times. It’s called the Age of
Information, but in another light it can be called the Age of
Distraction.
While humanity has never been free of distraction —
from swatting those bothersome gnats around the fireplace to
dealing with piles of paper mail and ringing telephones —
never have the distractions been so voluminous, so overwhelming, so
intense, so persistent as they are now. Ringing phones are one
thing, but email notifications, Twitter and Facebook messages, an
array of browser tabs open, and mobile devices that are always on
and always beeping are quite another. More and more, we are
connected, we are up to our necks in the stream of information, we
are in the crossfire in a battle for our attention, and we are
engaged in a harrying blur of multitasking activity.
When we’re working, we have distractions coming
from every direction. In front of us is the computer, with email
notifications and other notifications of all kinds. Then
there’s the addicting lure of the browser, which contains not
only an endless amount of reading material that can be a black hole
into which we never escape, but unlimited opportunities for
shopping, for chatting with other people, for gossip and news and
lurid photos and so much more. All the while, several new emails
have come in, waiting for a quick response. Several programs are
open at once, each of them with tasks to complete. Several people
would like to chat, dividing our attention even further. And
that’s just in front of us: from the sides comes a ringing
desk phone, a ringing mobile device, music from several different
coworkers, a colleague coming to our desk asking a question,
incoming papers needing attention, other papers scattered across
our desks, someone calling a meeting, another offering up food.
With so much competing for our attention, and so little
time to focus on real work, it’s a wonder we get anything
done at all.
And then we leave work, and the attack on our attention
doesn’t end. We bring the mobile device, with incoming text
and email messages, all needing a reply, with incoming calls that
can’t be ignored. We have reading material, either in paper
form or on the mobile device, to keep our attention occupied. We
are bombarded from all sides by advertising, asking for not only
attention but our desires. We get home, and there’s the
television, constantly blaring, with 500 channels all asking for
yet more attention, with 500,000 ads asking for yet more desires.
There’s our home computer, asking us to do more work, sending
us more messages, more distractions, social networks and shopping
and reading. There are kids or spouses or roommates or friends,
there’s the home phone, and still the mobile device is going
off.
This is unprecedented, and it’s alarming.
We’ve come into this Age without being aware that
it was happening, or realizing its consequences. Sure, we knew that
the Internet was proliferating, and we were excited about that. We
knew that mobile devices were becoming more and more ubiquitous,
and maybe some people harrumphed and others welcomed the
connectivity. But while the opportunities offered by this online
world are a good thing, the constant distractions, the increasingly
urgent pull on our attention, the stress of multitasking at an
ever-finer granular level, the erosion of our free time and our
ability to live with a modicum of peace … perhaps we
didn’t realize how much this would change our lives.
Maybe some did. And maybe many still don’t realize
it.
I think, with so many things asking for our attention,
it’s time we paid attention to this.
It’s an Addiction
There’s instant positive feedback to such constant activities
as checking email, surfing the web, checking social networks such
as blogs, forums, Twitter and Facebook. That’s why it’s
so easy to become addicted to being connected and distracted.
Other addictive activities, such as doing drugs or eating
junk food, have the same kind of instant positive feedback —
you do the activity, and right away, you’re rewarded with
something pleasurable. Take some drugs, and get an instant high.
Eat some French fries or a candy bar, get taste pleasure instantly.
The more often you do it, the more you get the pleasure —
it’s a constant positive feedback loop, and soon you want to
do it more and more. Such addictive activities have their negative
feedback, to be sure — the unhealthy side effects of drugs
and junk food, for example — but those aren’t instant.
They’re longer term, and by the time you feel them,
you’re already addicted.
It’s harder to form such a habit with other
activities: hard work, exercise, being patient are just a few
examples. These have longer-term rewards, and don’t usually
have instant positive feedback. You don’t see the benefits of
hard work or exercise until weeks or months later — unless
you’ve already formed the habit, and then you can feel good
doing these things immediately. But these things have instant
negative feedback — hard work is … hard. Exercise is
tiring and can even be painful if you overdo it. After you
exercise, you might be so tired you need to take a nap.
That’s not the same kind of instant positive feedback that
drugs and junk food offer — so exercise isn’t as
addictive.
Checking email, or any similar online activity, has that
addictive quality of instant positive feedback and delayed negative
feedback.
You check your email and hey! A new email from a friend!
You get a positive feeling, perhaps of a validation of your
self-worth, when you receive a new email. It feels good to get a
message from someone. And thus the instant positive feedback
rewards you checking email, more and more frequently, until the
addiction is solidly ingrained.
Now, you might later get tired of answering all your
email, because it’s overwhelming and difficult to keep up
with. But usually by then, you’re addicted and can’t
stop checking. And usually the checking of the email has positive
reward (a good feeling) but it’s the activity of answering
all the emails that isn’t as fun.
And even if you get tired of email, there are many other
things online that you can do instead. Check your RSS feeds or
favorite blogs. Read forums or social networks. Chat with someone.
All have positive feedback, instantly.
But what about the negative consequences? Like drugs and
junk food, online addictions don’t have instant negative
consequences — you don’t feel it until much later, and
often you don’t even realize the consequences (much like drug
addicts, by the way). Consequences might include the loss of
productivity, of free time, of connecting with your loved ones, of
peace of mind and focus. These are pretty substantial losses, and
yet they happen without our noticing, slowly and gradually over
time, so that by the time they’ve grown to major proportions,
our addiction is solidly built in.
It’s a New
Lifestyle
Being connected, getting information all the time, having constant
distractions … it has all become a part of our lives.
Computers, at one time, were a small part of our lives
— perhaps we used them at work, but in the car and on the
train, and usually at home and when we’re out doing other
things, we were disconnected. Even at work, our computers had
limited capabilities — we could only do certain things with
desktop applications, and while solitaire is definitely addicting,
it doesn’t take up your entire life.
Not so anymore.
Computers are taking over our lives. And while I’m
as pro-technology as the next guy (more so in many cases), I also
think we need to consider the consequences of this new
lifestyle.
Because we’ve created a new lifestyle very rapidly,
and I’m not sure we’re prepared for it. We don’t
have new strategies for dealing with being connected most of the
time, we don’t have new cultural norms, nor have we figured
out if this is the best way to live life. We’ve been plunged
into it, before we could develop a system for handling it.
It’s an
Expectation
Let’s say you woke up one day and decided you no longer
wanted to participate in the Age of Distraction in some way
… could you just drop out?
Well, you could, but you’d be up against an entire
culture that expects you to participate.
A good example was when I recently announced that I was
ditching email (more on this later) so that I could focus less on
answering emails and more on what I love doing: creating. That
seemed fairly straightforward to me, but it turns out it drew quite
a strong reaction in a lot of people. Some applauded me for having
the courage to give up email — indicating this was a huge
step that took bravery, took an ability to break from a major
societal norm. Other people were insulted or indignant, either
feeling like I was insulting their way of doing things, or that I
was some kind of prima donna or “diva” for not wanting
to be available through email.
Interesting: the simple act of giving up email was either
hugely courageous, or arrogant, because I wasn’t living up to
the expectation of society that I’d be available via email
and at least make the attempt to reply. Interesting, because just a
decade earlier, many people didn’t use email and no one cared
if they didn’t.
And email is just one facet of these expectations. How
high these expectations are depends on your job, who you are, where
you work, and the standards that have evolved in the group you work
with. But some people are expected to be available all the time,
carrying a Blackberry or other device with them, and to respond
almost immediately — or they’re out of touch, or not
good businesspeople. Others are expected to be available for
instant messaging or Skype chats, or be on social forums or social
networks such as Facebook or Twitter. Others need to follow the
news of their industry closely, and constantly read updates of news
sites.
Being connected all the time, being part of this constant
stream of distraction, is an expectation that society now has of
us. And going against that expectation is immensely difficult for
many people — it requires courage, or a willingness to be an
arrogant prima donna.
How did this happen? When did we opt-in to be a part of
this? There was never a time when we agreed to these expectations,
but they’ve evolved rapidly over the last decade or so, and
now it’s hard to get out.
I’m not saying we should get out. I’m saying
we need to rethink things, to change expectations so that the
system suits us, not the other way around.
It’s an Illusion
* still to come
Next chapter: The Importance of Finding Focus