The cur­rent dig­i­tal space has been built around the assump­tions that atten­tion is a resource to be mined, that there are only so many poten­tial users, and that those users have a finite amount of time to spend on a par­tic­u­lar ser­vice. It’s time to reclaim how our atten­tion is defined and solicited.

The seem­ing­ly unstop­pable march of dig­i­ti­za­tion is exac­er­bat­ing the prob­lem of uni­for­mi­ty. A far cry from the ear­li­er, Wild West days of the Inter­net, the mono­lith­ic tech cor­po­ra­tions now act as gate­keep­ers to vast repos­i­to­ries of infor­ma­tion. The way these com­pa­nies see fit to dis­trib­ute infor­ma­tion through algo­rithms is unavoid­ably linked with what is ben­e­fi­cial for their bot­tom line: user reten­tion, eye­balls on screens, and the accu­mu­la­tion of profit.

The ad-dri­ven mon­e­ti­za­tion struc­ture of the Inter­net cre­ates a sim­ple cause and effect: the more clicks you get, the more mon­ey you make. Hence the rise of click­bait. Click­bait is noth­ing more than a dig­i­tal ver­sion of a prac­tice that’s exist­ed with­in human soci­ety for cen­turies: dis­tort­ing the truth to attract atten­tion. But this orga­ni­za­tion of online con­tent is espe­cial­ly sus­cep­ti­ble to manip­u­la­tion. Shrewd cre­ators rec­og­nize what con­tent receives the most atten­tion and con­fig­ure their aes­thet­ics to appeal to these baser instincts. Pre­dictably, it is, time and time again, the most shock­ing and provoca­tive con­tent that draws in the most views.

There is much talk of the atten­tion econ­o­my. Net­flix CEO Reed Hast­ings iden­ti­fied his company’s users’ need for sleep as his great­est source of com­pe­ti­tion. But atten­tion is much more than a resource to be lever­aged against us. And it does not always need to be a means to an end. How can we redesign dig­i­tal sys­tems to try to reverse this detri­men­tal trend and reestab­lish atten­tion as a shared human value?

One answer may lie in explor­ing the con­cept of pres­ence. To be present, men­tal­ly and phys­i­cal­ly, means to feel deep roots with­in your cur­rent moment of con­scious­ness. Pres­ence means being aware of your bod­i­ly sen­sa­tions, being con­nect­ed to what sur­rounds you, and hav­ing the abil­i­ty to per­ceive the world with focus. Ath­letes speak of being “in the zone”, a state of exis­tence where­in time seems to slow down and every com­plex move­ment comes nat­u­ral­ly. Many types of med­i­ta­tion are essen­tial­ly con­cen­trat­ed efforts to feel this height­ened lev­el of mind­ful­ness. Yet, our dig­i­tal sys­tems seem to be man­u­fac­tured to achieve the very oppo­site of pres­ence. They often seem designed to leave us in a state of per­pet­u­al distraction.

The stream of expe­ri­ence pass­ing through our per­cep­tion, sec­ond by sec­ond, is our win­dow to the very nature of being itself. It is all we are and all we will ever know. If we allow our­selves to just be, we can feel time ebb and flow. And this feel­ing can take us down untrod­den paths. Per­haps even excit­ing ones. The con­cept of pres­ence can also allow us to grasp the intan­gi­ble and unquan­tifi­able. It can become a mode not just for analy­sis or con­sump­tion, but for explo­ration. As well, pres­ence is a help­ful way to detach from the unre­lent­ing urge to accom­plish and progress. And it is a strat­e­gy to allow our­selves to have a moment of peace from stress-induc­ing forces. This is absolute­ly vital for our well­be­ing. When we are calm, we are able to access a more pure mode of exis­tence, feel­ing the enthralling blend of all our sens­es as they come togeth­er with­in the full­ness of a moment.