The ancient Greeks immortalised the story of a man who was perpetually distracted. We call something that is desirable but just out of reach “tantalising” after his name. The story goes that Tantalus was banished to the underworld by his father, Zeus, as a punishment. There, he found himself wading in a pool of water, while above his head dangled a branch ripe with fruit ready for the picking.
The curse seems benign, but when Tantalus tried to pluck fruit from the tree, the branch moved away from him, always just out of reach. When he bent down to drink the cool water, it receded so that he could never quench his thirst. Tantalus’ punishment was to yearn for things he desired but could never grasp.
You have to give it to the ancient Greeks for their allegories. It’s hard to portray a better representation of the human condition. We are constantly reaching for something: more money, more experiences, more knowledge, more status, more stuff. The ancient Greeks thought this was just part of the curse of being a fallible mortal and used the story to portray the power of our incessant desires.
Imagine a line that represents the value of everything you do throughout your day. To the right, the actions are positive; to the left, they are negative.
On the right side of the continuum is “traction”, which comes from the Latin trahere, meaning to draw or pull. We can think of traction as the actions that draw us towards what we want in life. On the left side is “distraction”, the opposite of traction. With the same Latin root, the word means the “drawing away of the mind”. Distractions impede us from making progress towards the life we envisage.
All behaviours, both traction and distraction, are prompted by triggers, whether internal or external. Internal triggers cue us from within. When we feel our belly growl, we look for a snack. When we’re cold, we find a coat to warm up. And when we’re sad, lonely or stressed, we might call a friend or loved one for support.
External triggers, on the other hand, are cues in our environment that tell us what to do next, like the pings, dings and rings that prompt us to check our email, answer a phone call or open a news alert. External triggers can also take the form of other people, such as a co-worker who stops by our desk. They can also be objects, like a television set whose mere presence urges us to turn it on.
Whether internal or external triggers prompt us, the resulting action is either aligned with our broader intention (traction), or misaligned (distraction). Traction helps us accomplish goals; distraction leads us away from them.
The challenge, of course, is that our world has always been full of things designed to distract us. Today, people find themselves attached to their mobile phones, but these are only the latest potential hindrance. A few decades ago, people complained about the brain-melting power of television. Before that, it was arcade games, the telephone, the pinball machine, comic books and the radio. Even the written word was blamed for creating “forgetfulness in the learners’ souls”, according to Socrates. Though some of these things seem dull in comparison to today’s enticements, distractions are and always will be a fact of life.
Today’s distractions, however, feel different. More data, transferred at faster speeds, enabling ubiquitous access to new content on our devices, means the world can be more distracting. If it’s a distraction you seek, it’s easier than ever to find.
What is the cost of all that distraction? In 1971, the psychologist Herbert A. Simon wrote presciently, “the wealth of information means a dearth of something else ... a poverty of attention.”
Researchers tell us attention and focus are the raw materials of human creativity and flourishing. In the age of increased automation, the most sought-after jobs are those that require creative problem-solving, novel solutions and the kind of human ingenuity that comes from focusing deeply on the task at hand.
Socially, we see that close friendships are the bedrock of our psychological and physical health. Loneliness, according to researchers, is more dangerous than obesity. But, of course, we can’t cultivate close friendships if we’re constantly distracted.
When we consider our children, how can they flourish if they can’t concentrate long enough to apply themselves? What example are we setting for them if our loving faces are replaced by the tops of our heads as we constantly stare into our screens? Let’s think back to the tale of Tantalus. What was his curse exactly? Was it never-ending hunger and thirst? Not really. What would have happened to Tantalus if he had just stopped reaching? He was already in hell, after all, and dead people don’t need food and water last time I checked.
The curse is not that Tantalus spends all eternity reaching for things just out of reach, but rather his obliviousness to the greater folly of his actions. Tantalus’ curse was his blindness to the fact he didn’t need those things in the first place. That’s the real moral of the story.
Tantalus’ curse is also our curse. We are compelled to reach for things we supposedly need but really don’t. We don’t need to check our email right this second; we don’t need to give in to some other distraction, no matter how much we feel we must.
Fortunately, we, unlike Tantalus, can step back from our desires, recognise them for what they are and do something about them. We want companies to innovate and solve our evolving needs, yet we must also ask whether better products bring out the best in us. Though it’s not our fault distractions exist (as they always have), managing them is our responsibility.
Excerpted with permission from Indistractable: How to Control Your Attention and Choose Your Life, Nir Eyal with Julie Li.