Peak Distraction
I spent most of my working life in what is referred to as “technology”. Computers, programming, IT; pick your favourite term. Yet I ran outside of a mainstream track, eg. I entirely avoided social media. As a result, the perils of doom scrolling were not a concern. I felt I had a healthy relationship with technology, but I wasn’t in a bubble, I knew people had problems, and of some of their attempted solutions.
Starting with a dislike of surveillance capitalism, I stopped using google services about 10 years ago. And cancelled my amazon account after watching “Sorry we missed you”. Thus I severed my connection to big tech and the attention economy, the one remaining product was a phone.
Being a child of the 80s, phones weren’t a defacto part of life growing up. Even so, I got my first relatively late, at the age of 24. I didn’t see the point of paying for the privilege of being interrupted at any time. It wasn’t until 2009 when phones had the connectivity and performance to really call them smart, that I bought one. It was hardly a phone after all, rather a small computer with cellular internet. The first pocketable device with miracle technologies like GPS maps, fast tethering and highly functional apps. Nine years on from that initial smartphone, in 2018, I jumped ship and bought a dumb phone.
I didn’t doom scroll, but it was ever-present and ever distracting. I could always look up some tedious fact, or check the weather, or read some important article about becoming more zen. I also listened to a lot of podcasts, often at 1.5 - 2 times normal speed to increase my productivity. The smart phone provided both visual and auditory stimulus that generally exceeded my immediate surroundings. Why sit in a park and listen to bird song when you could catch up on a podcast. Or appreciate the architectural details of a building, while you wait for something, when you could read a great article.
The dumb phone did solve this problem, it provided zero stimulus, though it also sucked. Beyond the obvious, of becoming overly reliant on maps. The software and hardware were pretty bad. It needed regular resetting and T9 is slow, that friction is part of the point, but I didn’t text much anyway, which meant I spent more time on the phone typing the odd short message. I lasted a couple of years, but the poor execution eventually lead me back to a smartphone.
It wasn’t long till I was back to the odd podcast, the odd search; not doom scrolling levels but enough stimulus to remove me from being entirely present. As sentiment continued to shift, and books like “Digital Minimalism” and “Stolen Focus” were pushing these ideas into the mainstream, new devices started to emerge. Constantly searching for that tiny spark of dopamine. What better way to scratch ones anti consumer, minimalist itch, but by buying a new product. Needless to say, I resisted, but only just.
In the end I went back to my then three, now four and half year old smartphone, and made it dumb. The only third party apps are Signal messenger, a remote for my music server and a home security app. Of the stock apps I use maps when going to new places, a calendar, the weather app to check UV levels and a lists app for a shopping list. No email, no podcasts, no browser. According to the screen time app, I use the device around five to ten minutes per day, depending on if I am using maps, changing music or messaging more than usual. I don’t enable bluetooth, any music listening is controlling a stereo in front of a couch, actively listening. It is also permanently in silent mode, and will only vibrate when called by a known contact. This device is low on the stimulus hierarchy, it doesn’t distract.
With over ten years on and off the cushion with a meditation practice, I’ve spent a good deal of time thinking about being distracted. Phones, and the windows they open into the attention economy are perhaps humanities best distraction devices yet. Though what I’ve come to realize, especially when observing my children, is that its less about distraction itself and more about a hierarchy of stimulus.
We love easy, and our brains crave stimulus. There’s a reason processed junk food is more popular than whole food, pop music than classical, Hollywood blockbusters than the theater. They each provide more stimulus for the effort of consumption. And yet, each was arguably the most exciting thing around before the other existed. Each at the top of their relative hierarchies for a time. Doubtless displacing things that came before. Cooked stew over raw meat, symphony music over monophony, broadway shows over a man in a wig, shouting at you.
I see this playing out daily with my children’s toys. One that moves itself with batteries is taken over one that makes a noise and continues when physically pushed, over one that makes no noise and stops when friction or obstacle halt its progress. They each sit lower on the hierarchy, reward vs effort.
People are able to choose, to understand there is more to something than surface stimulus. Countless young adults, who grew up with smart phones are taking steps to live free from them. But it’s a hard sell for the very young, without a rational foundation as to why one might be ultimately better than the other. The wooden train set my son loves playing with, will be ignored if the firetruck that continues after pushed is in sight, which will be stepped over if someone has a remote control car. I’ve not had to tackle this particular challenge myself yet, but its any wonder that people struggle to read novels when video content keeps getting shorter.
My daughters first show, at the age of two, was the original (1970s) sesame street, and she loved it. Followed by the original magic school bus. Both are slower, quieter and more educational than any TV programs made today, even the contemporary versions of the same shows. Sesame street still has some of its charm but half of it is now computer generated and its louder and brighter than before, doubtless to compete with everything else on. The same is true for the magic school bus. She will no longer watch those early sesame street, having had her hierarchies elevated to new heights. I imagine others have shielded their children entirely from all digital media, and while I considered it, I chose to try and build a healthy relationship with quality media, in particular avoiding the major streaming services.
Now its possible to curate their days, their belongings. To spend time in nature, away from stuff, to provide a place of quiet, with minimal stimuli. But they’ll eventually manage their own spaces and the things they put in them. Having only narrowly escaped the attention economy that the majority of my peers fell prey to, I wonder if I’ll be able to keep my children from becoming its next victims.
Its not a coincidence, that most of things that are bad for us, junk food, social media, etc. That provide high stimulus and little to no value are all pushed upon us by corporations seeking profit over all else. Just like the dieting advice to not have junk food in your home, we should avoid having junk habits in our homes.
Though it’s not only a question of blocking things out, removing the bright light of a phone screen in order to see reality. Developing a deeper appreciation of the world can increase the inherent stimuli of our surroundings. Photography sharpens my awareness, allowing me to notice details that I might otherwise pass by. The visual arts are obvious, but an interest in nature itself, the plants or animals also heightens ones experience. An understanding of cloud formation enables you to look up and discern changing weather patterns. Knowledge of musical theory gives depth to bird song and so on.
Think about the things in your life that provide empty stimulus, that distract from taking the time, or making the effort to actually see the inherent quality all around. Again, chances are the good stuff isn’t being sold to you by a corporation. The world is already exciting enough, not to require any further purchases.