It took me a long time to get this browser tab open and start writing this post. Was it because my two-year-old twins demanded my attention? No, I woke up at five-o-clock this morning and they are still asleep. Was I unable to get started because I was waiting on something, such as a cup of coffee, to start? No, the coffee was brewed and I've had it in hand for a while now. So what was it?

The problem started when I opened the computer, when I set to actually do the task of writing a blog post. I came into the activity with the full intention to write, that's why I grabbed the laptop. I placed it on my lap and turned it on with the express purpose of writing this very post that you are now reading. But it took an additional twenty minutes to actually start the write the thing, and I'm lucky that I got started at all.

"Okay, what happened?" I hear you impatiently moaning. Well... I got distracted. I got pulled in by the digital siren calls engineered to redirect one's attention - and they are everywhere on our devices.

A while back I removed social media from my phone. Then I got my notifications under control (now its just texts, WhatsApp and work chat). Now, I could finally focus on what I wanted to do and get something done. Or so I thought.

I failed to realize that those steps, the steps of removing the overt attention grabbers, represented only the first steps on a longer journey. A journey I've set out to resolve this next week. That's why I'm writing this post, to take you on the journey with me. But to know where I'm going and why I have to go there - you have to know where I've been. Why am I thinking about this? Why does it matter? And why, as the reader, would I want to follow suit?

When I Deleted Twitter (Before Musk)

It goes back to COVID. Stuck indoors as a remote worker my screen time went through the roof. At the start I didn't think about it that much. I was not only stuck indoors by mandate, but my wife and I had moved to another country at the start of the pandemic - she worked for the U.S. Embassy in Moscow. This move compounded the reliance on screens. Even if I talked to someone outdoors, as someone who speaks Russian poorly, I would be unlikely to understand them.

So I was spending a lot of time using my devices. Subsequently, I became aware of the time that I was spending. Like many during the pandemic, I was not in a good place mentally. I was rethinking how I was living my life and somehow I discovered Cal Newport and the concept of deep work.

For the uninitiated, Cal Newport's book "Deep Work" delves into the idea of making dedicated time and space for uninterrupted, undistracted work. Acknowledging the difficulty of doing this work in the digital age, Cal has practical advice for actually making room for getting things done. I recommend the book to anyone, but don't get distracted, wait until the end of the post. 😄

I read the book and thought it was amazing. I had just started a journaling practice and, as part of that practice, would sequester myself to the guest room of our house with the right music and no phone - and I would write. It was the practice of deep work, as Cal described in the book, and it opened up a yearning inside of me to change more of how I lived.

So I read another of Cal's book, my personal favorite from him - Digital Minimalism. It was there, in those pages, that a mirror was held up to my own use of technology. I was a native of the Internet in the truest sense. Working in tech my whole career, I loved my devices on every level. But I found in the book that I had an addiction that I hadn't even seen. That shook me to the core.

I'm not alone. Just look up "average screen time usage in US" (but again, don't get distracted, look it up after this post) - it's not good. Nielsen found that the US average is 7 hours and 3 minutes per day. Keep reading and you'll find more disturbing numbers. The CDC found that teenagers are on their screens as much as nine hours a day. From what I understand, this time does not include work/school activities on a computer.

My takeaway is that means the average person is spending most of their lives consuming content on a screen.

Faced with this shocking reality, I began to pay attention to how I was using my phone. I call it "itchy fingers" and it made me feel like an addict. I would get bored and my hand would go to my phone and open Twitter. Before I even had the conscious thought of what I was doing, I would be scrolling Tweets.

What scared me was that sometimes when I was trying to pay attention to my phone use, I would end up looking at Twitter before I even realized it. Boredom, hand, phone, Twitter - but it was an automatic thing, not something I consciously directed. That was really weird and it bothered me immensely.

So I deleted Twitter.

The craziest part? For a little while after, I'd catch myself opening my phone and going to the spot where the Twitter icon had been. Then I'd realize what I was doing because my hand couldn't just tap it. It wasn't there.

Once again, I'm not alone. I remember being at a work event and, during a presentation I glanced over to see a co-worker pull out a phone and open Twitter. He'd scroll for a few moments, close it, and then five minutes later do the same thing. It looked like "Itchy fingers" to me, an act not directed consciously, but a reaction to boredom that he was doing automatically. He didn't seem very engaged with what was on the screen - in fact, I was shocked at how disengaged he appeared to be. Now I look around every day and see this happening. Frankly, more often I see it with women and Instagram reels. If I were around teenagers more, I'm sure I'd see the same with TikTok.

I felt wronged. My brain was being hijacked. Deleting Twitter suddenly removed the endpoint for my automatic action. Now I had to be more conscious.

Notifications

The problem didn't go away after getting rid of Twitter. Other apps fill the void. In large part prompted by notifications arriving that all seem important. To someone who considers themselves well read and up-to-speed on current events - the New York Times quickly became a new addictive endpoint. During the Trump years and COVID, it felt like there were important, historic and scary things happening every day. I needed to be on top of it, didn't I?

Only, I didn't. I'm not sure everyone reading this will understand what I'm about to say but... You probably don't matter that much. I mean that in the kindest way possible. You may have influence and prestige in your field or area of expertise, but most of what you read in the New York Times app actually doesn't apply to your life - or your ability to affect it is extraordinarily limited. Yes, you have a vote, but you probably don't need to read most news articles in order to know what candidates best represent your viewpoints.

It took a long time to get there, but I didn't want to live my life in news apps. I wanted to live my life within my place, with my people. So I shut off notifications for all the apps that didn't connect me with the people in my life. One of the best decisions I've ever made.

Getting Things Done Today

It would be easy to think I'd now be completely present and undistracted. But, you'd be wrong. As I noted at the start of this post, trying to get things done today I found myself getting distracted. But how?

Nearly every app, even my phone and computer themselves, are trying to distract me.

I open up Google on my phone to search for something related to this article - and there are recommended news stories, fine-tuned to grab my attention. I open up my browser to the same. Targeted ads on every website. Even Windows has a widget on the task bar that has news and weather. It all tugs and nudges you into something you didn't set out to do.

I set out to write a blog post. Not read an election story, not get enticed to buy some new product. I wanted to do something intentional.

This is why you can't get anything done.

The notifications are everywhere. The alerts. The recommendations. It's death by a thousand paper cuts.

So What Do We Do?

You could use a dumb phone (and maybe you should). There are a variety of options that would help alleviate the problems. But it has to start with you, making the decision to do things differently. Turn off notifications for most apps. Turn off "Recommended Stories" or whatever Google is calling them these days. Put your phone in the other room while you work.

These are the critical first steps, then we can move on to the harder stuff, the more extreme moves. But making a conscious effort to be conscious and put safeguards in place is how you start. This morning I turned off all the "recommendations" so that if I search or open a new tab, I'm not pulled into some news story.

It starts with finding ways to reclaim your attention and put it towards the things you want to do. Not giving it away to anything that comes before you. Not allowing it to be stolen. It's your attention which, in turn, is your time and your time is your life. You should be in control of how it is used. Acknowledging that and owning it is the first step.