why be mindful of technology?
Just after I sent the last letter about villains and victims, I was asked why I care so much about attention activism. I didn’t really have an answer in the moment, so I’ve been thinking about it a lot this week. It’s a good question. I have very little free time these days, yet I’m writing these letters. Despite knowing almost nothing about publishing, I’m even thinking about writing a book. Why?
Some context: There are two adjacent communities thinking about these issues as much as I do. One is the ‘humane technology’ movement, and the other is the ‘digital wellness’ movement. The former is advocating for regulators and tech leaders to figure this stuff out and do their part. The latter is looking to educate people on managing their relationship with tech. Both seem to be advocating for powerful, important tactics, yet in my experience, they’re often portraying us all as victims, as if the only way forward is to ‘cope and hope’. To cope with the problems while hoping governments and tech companies will do the right thing. I’m not holding my breath. These movements need an empowering positive vision for the future we want to see, and how we might all do our part. They need to hire some sci-fi writers.
Let me take a stab at it. What I want to see is a world where design patterns and marketing techniques that exploit us simply don’t work anymore. The vision isn’t a nanny-state where tech is hyper regulated and ads are censored, nor is it a world where we’re all managing mental health issues to cope with an invasive internet. I imagine a future where we voluntarily choose not to engage with platforms that hijack our minds. I imagine a population that can see right through dark design patterns.
Regulation and ethics are going to help us get there, and so is education and science. But these are means to an end. We each have the power to make the attention economy less profitable. What if tech companies were forced to be conscientious because the market rejected those that prey on our vulnerabilities? Would it be possible to create a culture where people notice and dislike when organizations pull on their biological triggers?
This is why the mindfulness conversation is inextricable from the digital wellness and humane tech conversations. The heart of this vision depends on a collectively high level of self-awareness. We can only reject the commoditization of our minds if we can sense it happening in the moment. Can you viscerally feel when you’re being manipulated? Are you aware of the gradual ways in which your life is being transformed by your tech habits? Do you notice how hard it is to stay present in daily life with all these distractions everywhere?
I’m not saying our basic biological instincts will change. They won’t. When your phone dings, you’ll notice. When that little floating red number wiggles with a new notification, you’ll be drawn in. When a headline depicts a minor event as a dangerous crisis, you’ll read it. When an ad baits you with glistening meat - whether in body shorts, bikinis, or burger buns - you’ll look. But what about the moment after? Mindfulness gives us options. If we can provide more people with the space to intentionally choose how to respond to these tactics, I believe people will eventually brand all these tricks as out of style.
Sure, they’ll fool us once. But what if we were mindful of the attention-grabbing techniques that trigger us against our will? We’d have the space to choose. The very act of being tricked will turn us off products and services forever. We’ll unsubscribe and delete apps when we catch them hijacking us with cheap tricks. Exploitative design patterns like aggressive notifications, infinite scrolls, outrageous headlines and quantified social engagement will start to feel cheap and superficial, kind of like how we feel today about late-night infomercials. It would become uncool to manipulate people and trendy to be transparent, forthcoming, and authentic.
I’m writing and speaking about attention activism because I believe change will come when more of us become aware of these devious tactics and reject them in our own lives. It may seem like a stretch or an overly idealist view of the future, but I’m not alone. We’re not aiming for the moon to land among the stars here. These platforms are distracting us, misinforming us, isolating us, and depressing us. We really need to hit that moon.
Jay Vidyarthi