We often hear that time and energy are our most valuable assets. This idea has been repeated so often that it’s become accepted wisdom. And there’s truth to it – both are finite resources that we can’t replenish. But I’ve come to believe there’s a third asset, equally important yet far less discussed: attention.
Time, energy, and attention each play a distinct role in our lives. Time passes regardless of our efforts; it’s the backdrop against which all else unfolds. Energy is what we expend to accomplish tasks, whether mental or physical. But attention – attention is the lens through which we focus our time and energy.
Consider how we typically think about these resources. We’re acutely aware when someone wastes our time or depletes our energy. But how often do we consider the cost of misplaced attention? It’s a subtle drain, one that we rarely notice in the moment.
The reason attention often goes unmentioned is that it’s perceived as cheap. Advertisers capture it for fractions of a cent. Content creators vie for it with increasingly sensational headlines. We’ve become so accustomed to giving away our attention that we’ve forgotten its value.
But attention is far from cheap. It’s the captain of our personal ship, setting the course for where we direct our time and energy. A small shift in attention, like a tiny adjustment in a golf swing, can lead to dramatically different outcomes over time.
This oversight has real consequences. We carefully budget our time and conserve our energy, but we let our attention scatter to the winds. We end up investing thousands of hours in pursuits that, in retrospect, added little value to our lives. All because we failed to guard our attention as zealously as we guard our time and energy.
The phrase “losing focus” is particularly telling. It implies that our attention naturally wanders, that losing it is inevitable. But this framing absolves us of responsibility. We don’t lose focus so much as relinquish it, often to carefully engineered distractions.
“The modern vampire doesn’t suck your blood; it sucks your attention.”
In our hyper-connected world, reclaiming our attention has become crucial. Our smartphones – those sleek, pocket-sized supercomputers – are weapons of mass distraction. Every notification, every app, is designed to capture and hold our attention. And they’re very good at it.
So how do we reclaim this vital resource? One approach is to be more deliberate about our information diet. Just as we are the average of the five people we spend the most time with, our thoughts and actions are shaped by the content we consume. Curating this intake more carefully can have profound effects.
Another strategy is to seek out evergreen knowledge – information that remains valuable over time. Much of what we consume – news articles, social media posts, ephemeral trends – has a short half-life. Its relevance decays rapidly. But there are topics – health, relationships, fundamental principles of science and philosophy – that compound in value the more we engage with them.
The intention behind our consumption matters too. It’s easy to fall into passive consumption, letting information wash over us without truly engaging. But true learning, true growth, requires active engagement. It’s the difference between having a podcast on in the background while doing chores and sitting down to listen attentively, taking notes, and reflecting on what you’ve heard.
I’ve experimented with various approaches to managing my attention. One simple but effective method was deactivating my social media accounts for a week. The world, unsurprisingly, continued to turn. Most people, absorbed in their own digital ecosystems, didn’t even notice my absence.
Another tactic I’ve found useful is keeping my phone in “Focus” mode by default, allowing only calls to come through. In an age where most communication happens via text or messaging apps, a phone call usually signifies something important. This simple change has dramatically reduced the number of times my attention is needlessly diverted throughout the day.
The goal isn’t to completely eliminate distractions or to never engage in leisure activities. Rather, it’s to be more intentional about where we direct our attention. It’s about recognizing that every piece of content we consume, every activity we engage in, comes with an opportunity cost. When we say yes to watching a video or scrolling through a feed, we’re saying no to countless other potential uses of that time and mental energy.
In business, there’s a concept of seeking products or services with near-zero marginal cost of duplication. Information often fits this model – once created, it can be distributed to millions at little additional cost. But as consumers of information, we need to consider a different cost: the cost of consumption. Our attention is the price we pay, and it’s a currency we can’t afford to spend frivolously.
It’s worth asking: How will the time you’ve spent reading this benefit you in the long run? Will the ideas here compound, influencing your future decisions about how you allocate your attention? Or will they fade, just another fleeting piece of content in the endless stream?
The answer, of course, depends on what you do next. Will you reflect on these ideas, apply them, test them against your own experience? Or will you simply move on to the next item in your feed?
The choice – and the precious resource of your attention – is yours.