Reading this article by Christopher Butler had me nodding along the whole time.
Our world treats information like it’s always good. More data, more content, more inputs — we want it all without thinking twice. To say that the last twenty-five years of culture have centered around info-maximalism wouldn’t be an exaggeration. (…) When every moment is filled with new inputs, we can’t fully absorb, process, and reflect upon what we’ve consumed. Reflection, not consumptions, creates wisdom. Reflection requires quiet, isolation, and inactivity.
This is a sentiment I’ve seen echoed by a lot of people lately – and something I feel deeply myself. What started as a drizzle in the early days of the web, a chance to explore different viewpoints, get fresh ideas, or learn new things, has turned into an unrelenting tsunami. One that sweeps our attention away as it rushes endlessly through our minds.
Everything that made the web exciting is still possible, sure – but now it takes effort and discipline not to get swept up in yet another algorithmic feed, carefully crafted to keep us “engaged”. Making us angry, anxious, or afraid we’re missing out are great shortcuts for the platforms to get more “daily active users,” but they do little to nurture what Butler calls “wisdom.”
The chance to gain even a little bit of that wisdom is something I hope for myself – and for my kids. To see past the constant rush of the now, and learn to apply our attention intentionally.
If our attention is our currency, then leverage will come with the capacity to not pay it. To not look, to not listen, to not react, to not share.
Something to remember.
