#attention

#attention

Last week, I tried to watch a movie without doing anything else. Just watching. No phone, no laptop, no second screen. I made it exactly 12 minutes before my hand started twitching toward my pocket like some kind of digital zombie. And that's when it hit me. This isn't about being lazy or unmotivated. This constant restlessness, this inability to truly relax, it's something else entirely.

If we're news junkies, or just extremely online, we're a little like that traumatised journalist. A little. More removed from frontline carnage, sure, but subject to a similar onslaught of non-stop bad news: polarisation, the climate crisis, grim domestic violence statistics. The rising cost of living, the rise of the far right, and AI threatening to upend our livelihoods. What to do with all the angst stirred up by negative headlines?

From a distance, it looks as though people are praying. Their heads are bowed solemnly, their hands folded before them. But then I notice the phone. They are not praying-just looking at their screens. Since the arrival of the smartphone, rates of mental illness have risen sharply: depression, anxiety, self-harm, and suicide, especially among the young. Our attention has been captured, our inner lives fragmented, and our sense of self quietly distorted.

We're curled up on the couch at the end of another long day, finally getting a little refuge from the relentless busyness of modern life. Then, the smartphone lights up, announcing itself yet again, calling us back to the churn. Our phone has already buzzed, dinged, and flashed red dots 150 times today, the North American average (Stern, 2013). Each interruption has carved away a sliver of our time; each glow has pulled us into a digital world.

Customarily, any reference to generosity brings to mind a magnanimous propensity for giving material gifts. Flowers, trips, money, or an automobile can be expressions of generosity. However, it may be extremely limiting to understand generosity as the offering of material gifts. Emotional generosity can be highly supportive of creating emotional intimacy in a committed relationship. Or it can be a dynamic energy that fosters greater rapport at work.

Global Workspace Theory is among the most influential scientific theories of consciousness. Its central claim is: You consciously experience something if and only if it's being broadly broadcast in a "global workspace" so that many parts of your mind can access it at once - speech, deliberate action, explicit reasoning, memory formation, and so on. Because the workspace has very limited capacity, only a few things can occupy it at any one moment.

In both learning and advertising, one challenge remains constant: capturing attention in a world full of distractions. While Instructional Designers focus on structuring knowledge, advertisers focus on visibility, clarity, and instant comprehension. Surprisingly, the same visual communication principles that make an ad effective can also make eLearning more intuitive, engaging, and memorable. Having worked closely with visual communication in high-traffic environments, I've seen how small design choices influence how people notice, process, and retain information.

Attention is the gateway to learning. Before comprehension, before memory, before critical thinking, the brain must first decide to focus. Learning does not begin when instruction begins. Learning begins when the brain voluntarily directs its limited cognitive resources toward the content. The challenge is that attention is not automatic. The brain constantly filters incoming information and selects only a fraction to process actively.

You might be holding your breath right now and not even realize it. You are reading these words, but a part of you is likely somewhere else entirely. Most of us live in a state of suspended animation, mentally circling in a vortex of "what-ifs" while our bodies go into autopilot. A single worry triggers a loop, and suddenly you are disconnected from the room you are sitting in and the people you are with.

My husband is gesturing wildly but quietly for me to come to the front window. "Hawk!" He says. "I think it caught something in its talons." We stare across the canyon to one of the red-tailed hawk's favorite posts before deciding to get the binoculars and head outside. "I saw a bird today," he ribs me and passes the binoculars. We don't need to try the bird test; we're both really into birds.

On a typical workday, I receive between 200 and 300 emails, 100 to 200 text messages, 100 or more instant messages across various social media platforms, and over 50 voicemails on both my cell and work lines. The only way to manage this much input is to triage what's essential and what is not and do my best to respond as quickly and succinctly as possible.

I have two YouTube videos in my Watch Later that I have ironically been procrastinating on watching: replacing doomscrolling with writing (how to finally write your novel) and Self Education: Your Best Defense Against Brain Rot. Both videos take an almost combative stance against the use of social media, largely because spending time on the platform du jour often devolves into doomscrolling for hours until your brain rots.

Researchers in the area of emotions and cognition have long maintained that there are strong links between feeling and thinking. One approach in particular, the "broaden and build" theory, maintains that when you're upset about something, you view the world in terms of tiny details, but when you're happy, everything is covered in a big, rosy glow. It's impossible, the theory says, to draw a bright line between thoughts and emotions due to this process.

"One of the biggest problems we have to be aware of is alarm fatigue." That warning from a product manager became my introduction to scalable design. The problem was deceptively simple: a single alert might be well-designed, but displaying ten of them on one screen would quickly overwhelm users, causing them to miss critical information. Here's a quick test for your interface. Show it to someone for two seconds and ask: "What needs attention first?"

Those relationships map out context, and context builds meaning in language. For example, in the sentence "The bank raised interest rates," attention helps the model establish that "bank" relates to "interest rates" in a financial context, not a riverbank context. Through attention, conceptual relationships become quantified as numbers stored in a neural network. Attention also governs how AI language models choose what information "matters most" when generating each word of their response.

Walking through the halls of DMEXCO this year, one thing was striking: DOOH was not just present, it was everywhere. Panels, research sessions, and discussions with agencies all pointed in the same direction, out-of-home has firmly entered the digital mainstream. Even major players such as Ströer and WallDecaux dedicated an entire DOOH Summit to share insights and underline the medium's growing importance.

Monitoring your phone to check whenever it lights up seems innocent enough -- a minor habit, utterly devoid of consequence. But is this seemingly harmless gesture actually working against you, subtly undermining your privacy, focus, and even your phone's longevity? Placing your phone face down is a small change that can have surprising ripple effects on your digital well-being and device health.

"Reading has been unfairly maligned as an indoor activity for far too long. As a child, when nice weather came around, I was told to put down my book and go play outside."

I have come to see that where people place their attention often predicts the direction of their outcomes.

That's how severely I don't like being the center of attention. That's all it comes back to. I don't want to be the focus of anything.