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In an unexpected twist, the iconic Japanese notebook maker has announced they're now launching a journaling app. As someone who deeply cares and obsesses over notebooks and physical journaling, this comes as a big surprise.

From the homepage, it looks like the app automatically collects data from your phone throughout the day: locations you’ve visited, steps taken, photos snapped, events attended – all added automatically. Of course, you can still create notes manually, but it feels like the app's real goal is to make journaling as frictionless as possible, lowering the barrier to entry by turning everyday data into "memories". It is a very similar approach to Apple's journaling app, or DayOne.

But why would a brand built on the tactile joy (and limitations) of paper create such a digital offering?

The lure of recurring revenue, if you are cynical. But you could also see it as an honest attempt to help people start journaling by offering a daily summary they can review and expand on in their actual notebooks.

Sure, maybe.

If there's one thing I've learned from experimenting with journaling, it's that the act of sitting down and recalling your day on your own is already a powerful filter – it helps separate what's truly meaningful from all the noise. You don't need an app for that, especially not one cluttered with random bits of data. And if this app is indeed intended as a replacement for your physical journal, why should I choose this over the countless others?

I’m genuinely confused, Hobonichi Techo.

I’ve long believed that games are the perfect tool to figure out how to deal with all sorts of cultural problems. They are a safe space to prototype reactions to the big shifts we face as a society – like when a new technology suddenly changes how we communicate, work, or assign value.

You know, just like AI does at the moment.

In this light I enjoyed the latest episode of Post Games a lot. In it Chris Plant sits down with Frank Lantz, the creator of Universal Paperclips (the game where you play as an ever-optimizing AI determined to make as many paperclips as possible). During their conversation, Frank Lantz makes a point that I feel deeply, too:

“I think that, to me, the correct stance to have about all this stuff is one of deep confusion. I think if you're not, like, slightly confused and like, look, I'm not sure what's going on, then I think you're not paying attention. (...) You know, there's a whole bunch of obvious positions one can hold right now, where obviously these things are not living. They're just, you know, algorithms. It's just math. It's just a complicated text predictor (...) I think that's crazy. I also think it's crazy to be like, oh, no, it's obvious that this is the godhead and that we're just on the verge of being destroyed by this thing that is going to be to us the way we are to ants. I don't think it's right to have a lot of certainty. I think a kind of deep uncertainty and curiosity is the best thing to have about this stuff.”

Games can help us deal with this uncertainty. Just like they did countless times before.

I think that the Nintendo Music App is one of the coolest products the company has released in a while. Obviously, it is great for listening to your favorite soundtracks. But did you know that it is also one of the best productivity apps out there?

The app has a nifty feature that allows you to extend the playtime of certain tracks. Just pick a duration and the track will seamlessly loop. This is something needed in video games anyway, since developers cannot be certain how long you will stay in any given area, for example.

It turns out that this is also really helpful if you want to focus for a given time – just like you would with a Pomodoro timer. Set the duration, get stuff done, and once the next tune starts, you know it is time to stop and take a break.

Great little feature!

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.