How to Do Nothing: Resisting the Attention Economy

A week ago I found myself in a two day free-to-attend ‘festival’ hosted by the Malaysian Ministry of Finance and organized in collaboration with the Central Bank of the country – Bank Negara Malaysia. Titled LIFT, an acronym whose expansion stood for Literacy in Financial Technology and Living in Future Times, the event purported to showcase the burgeoning developments in the digital world of finance and technology. In between the short time before one speaker concluded her talk and the next one was preparing to take the podium, the emcee, with a view to eliciting participation from an otherwise reticent but polite crowd, asked as to how many people upon waking up every morning reached out for their smartphones instead of turning towards their spouse. More than 75% of the hands instinctively shot up prompting a burst of spontaneous laughter. While I am yet to share my bed with a spouse, this question by the Emcee triggered a bout of introspection. I would be lying through my teeth if I was to deny the fact that the first thing grabbing my attention every morning is a rectangular instrument that furnishes me with an unending ticker tape of likes, notifications, comments and mentions. Every other tangible object and intangible element does not stand a chance in so far as vying for attention is concerned. It is almost as if I have divided myself into fractals with each fractal being enslaved by its favourite social media outlet. This in spite of me having read, and reviewed the social recluse Jaron Lanier’s influential book, “Ten Arguments for Deleting Your Social Media Accounts Right Now.” So how does one disentangle oneself from the addictive, if not downright pernicious grip of social media? Does one go ‘dissipati peribunt’ by deactivating every social media account and retreating to the hills, or does one adopt an outside-in approach by remaining detached in spite of putting on a veneer of attachment? Jennifer Odell, an American artist, writer and educator based in Oakland, California tackles this very question in her extremely thought provoking, timely and tantalizing work, “How to Do Nothing: Resisting the Attention Economy.” Fully concurring with Jean-Baptiste le Rond d’Alembert’s assertion that “every age needs a Diogenes”, Ms. Odell emphasizes the necessity of possessing the singularly peculiar mind set of this eccentric Greek Philosopher, who once ordered Alexander The Great to move aside since the Emperor was blocking the philosopher’s sun! Odell also takes refuge in one of the most hardboiled, provocative and enduring refuseniks of all time, Mr. Bartleby, Herman Melville’s fictional character who drives his employer to the wall by just sticking to his stock phrase “I would prefer not to” and exactly adhering to it. An avid bird watcher, a la, Jonathan Franzen, Ms. Odell confesses her obsession towards watching birds in action This obsession in turn enables her to perceive in a more purposeful and aesthetic manner, nature that surrounds her. Bio-regionalism – a concept dealing with an awareness not only of the many life-forms of each place, but how they are interrelated, including with humans – first articulated by the environmentalist Peter Berg in the 1970s and the works of John Muir goad Ms. Odell on further nurturing her ornithological fascination. Borrowing from Donna Haraway and Martin Buber, Ms. Odell, exhorts us to concentrate upon where we are now, to acquaint ourselves with the world as it currently stands, and not go about imposing our will and subjectivity on it. Drawing from a plethora of empirical research, Ms. Odell strives to imprint upon us the need to look beyond the periphery of our restrained boundaries of attention. The genesis underlying the coining of the term “inattentional blindness” by Berkeley researchers Arien Mack and Irvin Rock in the 1990s while studying the drastic difference in our ability to perceive something if it lies outside our field of visual attention, finds a detailed mention in Ms. Odell’s book. Ms. Odell does not expect us to emulate Thomas Merton in escaping to the hills thereby engaging in a life of contemptus mundi, or to retreat to the woods, Thoreau-fashion thereby enjoying our own personalized Walden. “I am less interested in a mass exodus from Facebook and Twitter than I am in a mass movement of attention” she writes, “what happens when people regain control over their attention and begin to direct it again, together.” Instead, the secret is to occupy what Ms. Odell terms is the “third space” in the attention economy. This represents inculcating the requisite will power not only to withdraw attention, but to transpose it elsewhere, so that it stands enlarged, proliferated and improved in so far as its acuity is concerned. This according to Ms. Odell means introspecting across variegated timescales when “the mediascape would have us think in 24-hour (or shorter) cycles, to pause for consideration when clickbait would have us click, to risk unpopularity by searching for context when our Facebook feed is an outpouring of unchecked outrage and scapegoating, to closely study the ways that media and advertising play upon our emotions, to understand the algorithmic versions of ourselves that such forces have learned to manipulate, and to know when we are being guilted, threatened, and gas lighted into reactions that come not from will and reflection but from fear and anxiety.” Thus doing nothing is the diametric opposite of assuming the stillness of a mendicant (at least in so far as physical movement is concerned) or severing the relationship with social media cold turkey and vanishing into oblivion like a fading mist. In the opinion of Ms. Odell, the act of doing nothing is an art that has a three-point perfection: It is art of a dropping out; Developing a lateral movement outward to things and people that are around us; and Moving downward into place. My only reservation with the ideas propagated and proposed by Ms. Odell is the aspect of implementation. In a world that brooks no exception and where bucking the trend is more a fortunate – and perhaps in a few exceptional cases courageous – exception than the norm, it is more than just a gamble to dissociate oneself from the everyday hustle and bustle, thereby paying paeans or obeisance to the lives of either Diogenes or Epicurus. Also it would be far-fetched if not downright idiotic to expect society to accord either the same patience or magnanimity towards the goings on of a resurrected Diogenes. Hence, unless there exists a secure financial backing or an assured avenue for leading a life filled with fundamental essentials, let alone luxurious accompaniments, it would be next to impossible to assimilate either Berg’s bioregionalism or Muir’s naturalist wanderings, as the core of one’s existence. But having said that “How to do nothing” provides a handy channel to plan a much needed escape from the clutches of an unrelenting and remorseless form of capitalism.

I picked this book up thinking it would be about trying to shut down, but the book was more about a lecture on balance. I felt it could have used less lecture and less discussion on other books, and focused more on shutting down but I did feel the balance was good to take away. In this age of pulling your attention, its best to resist what's not important and allow it only when it is. And its something I think we all need to do.

Summer brings with it a level of relaxation and peace that cannot be reached at any other time during the year. Not even Christmas or spring break as it takes time for the grip of action addiction to let go and the calm to set it. The feeling is like the shavasana at the end of yoga. The practice is over and it’s time to rest. I used to read a lot and yet, I’ve slowed down. Part of that is deliberate, to really take in what I’m reading, to experience it deeply. And yet, much of my slow pace is a result of reading time lost to distraction. I find it hard to read without Googling, hard to read without posting about my beautiful reading location. This presence that I so desire in my reading, in my life, is the focus of the book: How to Do Nothing: Resisting the Attention Economy by Jenny Odell. Our eight hour work day was originally created with the following in mind: “eight hours for work, eight hours for rest, and eight hours for what we will” and yet technology and the lack of economic security has forced us into having almost constant availability that is undermining our ability to relax. Jenny argues that the constant connection and difficulty maintaining silence or interiority is a major problem. But, it’s not just a problem for our soul, Jenny shares that it’s impacting our productivity too. "We need distance and time to be functional enough to do or think anything meaningful at all." What’s the answer? We can’t throw technology away or move to a commune. Could we quit Facebook? “Some hybrid reaction is needed. We have to be able to do both: to contemplate and participate, to leave and always come back where we are needed.” We need to stand apart. Standing apart means looking closely at our attention. We must train ourselves to regain control of our attention and to direct it thoughtfully. We need to experience life fully, to put ourselves in the path of encounters that will change us. Do things we’ve never done, spend time with people we wouldn’t normally choose. Talk less into the void of social media and speak to real people. And finally, find your passions and follow them. It’s through these actions that we’ll change the world and ourselves. "I stopped looking at my phone because I was looking at something else, something so absorbing that I couldn’t turn away."

After reading about 50% of this book, I decided to put it down and not finish it. Why? Because I don't think the author wrote it to be a book that is read seriously and learned from. This "book" is performance art. Before I tell you what I think this book really is, what I believe the author intended, let me tell you more about why I don't think it is a serious book like you might think it is meant to be. First, the author is an artist, and not a traditional one in the sense that they are not a painter, photographer, etc. Their art is super creative and boundary pushing. Pretty interesting, in my opinion. Second, the author spends a lot of time in this book referring to performance art, and other non-traditional art. To the point that I started thinking, "I get it, no need for more and more and more examples of performance art. Yes, there is a connection to "doing nothing" but its not that important to be shared over and over and over again." Finally, the book is really, really light on substance. In the time I was reading it, sure, there were a few things that made me think or otherwise feel like I learned something, but few and far between. This is odd though because the author is clearly talented and thoughtful, not shallow or repetitive as I found the book to be. So what do I think this is, if not a book? This is performance art! The author wrote it as a way to force the reader to do nothing. To be present with themselves (not with the book), and to spend time doing something other than what society typically considers to be productive. We are being trolled. This is art, not a book. It is brilliant. The shallowness, repetitiveness, and meandering of the book force you to do nothing. What is it not is a way to be inspired or learn practical tips on how to do nothing. So why did I give it 3 stars? Well, if this is art, then I give it 5. If this is meant to be a serious book, I give it 1. I don't know, unless/until the author tells me more, so 3 it is!

It seems like some of the negative reviews have an agenda to push, especially the one that only quotes from the first and last paragraphs of the book. I would guess that person did not even read the book. I enjoyed the thoughts from the author. It made me think of things differently. I appreciated the argument about valuing things that aren’t valued in money or measured in the economy. It argues that we need time to process our thoughts and not just thoughtlessly react to social media posts. It argues we need the ability to direct our conversations differently to different audiences rather than the one size fits all post of Facebook. It argues to get to know your neighborhood and local place. If you are sick of the continued outrage machines we have created in our national discussions, you may wish to read this. It is true the author is viewing life from inside a San Francisco cultural bubble but I still found resonance with main points while living in the Midwest U.S.

Not a self-help guide, but rather a fascinating collection of essays that critique the modern “attention economy,” where our time and attention is deemed useless if not spent in the pursuit of profit and “progress.” Odell deftly weaves historical, literary, and artistic references together (from Diogenes to Herman Melville to Tehching Hsieh) and covers a whole lot of ground in a book that in a lesser author’s hand could seem inconsistent. Instead, it’s like having a meandering conversation with a brilliant friend. If you’re looking for a digital detox guide, go elsewhere (though she does spend time dismantling the very concept). If a capitalist critique (by a woman in academia, no less) gets your knickers in a twist, avoid. If you want some genuine inspiration as to how to exist, resist, and survive in the world as it is today, you won’t be disappointed.

(Note: two updates included below this first impression) Does this author have any insights of her own? Almost every page just references other people’s thoughts in a meandering fashion. I wish I had a dime for every time she writes, “It reminds me of...[enter other person’s work].” Then that person’s thoughts remind her of another person’s thoughts. I regret this purchase. Update: I added a star because I decided maybe this is just some new artistic type of genre: a collage of works connected to a specific topic. Update #2: I shelved this book for months before reading the last few chapters. I now see that I was too harsh in my initial encounter with it. True, the constant referencing is distracting at first, but I got used to that writing voice and was able to glean much from her observations. I’m now thankful she chose to have this conversation with us, and I believe it to be a very important conversation for today. During the last decade, I felt like my “soul” was being slowly vacuumed away and I couldn’t quite put my finger on what was happening. This book helped me identify one of the reasons I felt that way, and it encouraged me as I’ve reclaimed agency in my existence. Full of gratitude for this read.

Wanted to enjoy this book, but it is way more of a political and social statement than a personal introspection. Feels written from an ivory tower. Maybe undergraduate-philosophy-major me from the early 2000s would have liked it, but it just feels like a really heavy intellectual lift to read. Feels very political and a real ivory tower point of view. Un-relatable.

I was looking for some guidance trying to escape from the constant striving, the constant want. The book is not a how to book or even anything close to self-help, and that made it all the better. It is an exploration, through the eyes of an artist, of some deep philosophical ideas, drawing inspiration from art, philosophy and the wilderness. The only parts that didn’t resonate well with me were the parts about bioregionalism, developing a closet connection to the land we inhabit. While I do agree in principle, it felt like it was sometimes fetishising native and aboriginal cultures for their connection to the land, and some other times the arguments weren’t strong enough to convey something more than “natural is better.” It even contradicts itself when talking about building an I-Thou relationship with nature by using the names and categories we created to organise the natural world to our benefit. All in all it’s an excellent book, even with those small flaws. I’m looking forward to reading it again in a few years to see how it affects me then, and I’m not someone who re-reads books.

This is a beautiful book. There has been a lot of discussion in recent times of the fragmentation of our attention, a destruction of our attention spans, by the internet and smartphones. The effect of these technologies on children and knowledge workers has been well-documented. But it is more wide-spread than that. Walk anywhere in India and you will find everyone with their faces stuck in their smartphones. I have seen shopkeepers service me without even turning to face me, while watching videos on their phone. I have been in taxies in which the driver had a smartphone on their car’s dashboard. I have witnessed carpenters do their work semi-distracted by their phones. The default response to this situation has been things like the digital detox or digital minimalism. Proponents of these ideas say that you should move away from your phone in order to do what matters: develop your careers, produce meaningful results, live a productive life. Jenny Odell, the author of “How to Do Nothing”, and an American artist, takes this a few steps farther and a few fathoms deeper. She argues, very compellingly, we should save our attention not because that would save our productivity, but because it doing so is the only way to live a good life. Odell discusses the impossibility of renouncing our smartphones, and then comes up with the refreshing idea of a “third space”. She then talks about how attentive communication brings in a spatial and temporal context to conversation. These two ideas she presents in a breathtakingly poetic language. (Read the last two paragraphs of chapter 6 to see what I mean.) My only quibble is that Odell’s rants against capitalism and the Western civilisation are unnecessary. These are often couched in typical leftist gobbledygook. It seems to me that it would have been so much nicer if Odell’s case were presented with in a spiritual language. Instead of poor, oppressed people needing to protect their attention from devious capitalists, we are all humans trying to pull our attention from a mad world and our unruly senses to our real, peaceful, inner selves. After all, attention management has been a topic of discussion in a India millennia before the arrival of capitalism (see Arjuna’s question to Krishna in Gita 6.33 and 6.34, and Krishna’s response). Odell also seems unaware of Gandhi’s experiments with slow reading. Buddha does feature in her story, but she is ignorant of other important Indian thinkers in this field. This limits her work. Still, there is much that is positive in Odell. And we are in need of thinkers like her. This book is therefore strongly recommended.

Großartiges Buch!

Moyen car pas vraiment conforme à ce qui est annoncé dans le titre

This book was a huge disappointment. It sounded so great, but in reality it is just pumped up with a bunch of unnecessary information that only makes one nervous and confused. It makes no specific point, just goes on from one topic to the next from bird watching to who knows what. It landed in my garbage can. Very sad.