Attention Management

"Right Now, What Are You Doing?"

Merlin Mann — Mon, 01 Sep 2008 16:18:17 -0400

I’ve started to become a lot pickier about where my attention goes as I observe what it means to my work when it drifts. But, I still have a long way to go. Long way.

Like a lot of people I have a bad habit of CMD-Clicking tab sets in my browser, which then spawns a dozen or more new panes of potential distraction, pointless horseshit, and 10,000 excuses not to focus on what I really want to be making right now.

I whipped up this (rather plain and inefficiently coded) page this morning, and stuck it into every tab set that I tend to abuse: as the first tab I see.

It’s not a new idea, it’s not particularly interesting or sophisticated, and it’s certainly not anything you couldn’t whip up for yourself (and better) in about 30 seconds. So, why share it?

Because, your brain needs a Dad. If this can help you, awesome. If your immediate reaction is to think, “Oooo…I know how I can add way more features like a social network and procrastination stats!” hang it up; you’re already screwed.

Catch the drifting as it happens, refocus, then repeat as necessary. That’s it.

Happy Labor Day, friends, and may you find yourself seeing that little page as seldom as possible.

”"Right Now, What Are You Doing?"” was written by Merlin Mann for 43Folders.com and was originally posted on September 01, 2008. Except as noted, it's ©2008 Merlin Mann and licensed for reuse under CC BY-NC-ND 3.0. "Why a footer?"

Attention & Ambiguity: The Non-Paradox of Creative Work

Merlin Mann — Wed, 20 Aug 2008 07:40:22 -0400

Psychology Today: The Creative Personality

[via delicious.com/huxant, w/a reminder by Jack Shedd]

Some days, I can’t decide how I feel about Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi (say: “chick SENT me high”). He’s written some great stuff, but, sometimes, he mixes Big-Word academicspeak with anecdotal observation in a way that smells a little hokey to me.

So, although I’m trying not to audibly roll my eyes at a pop-psychology Top 10 list about creativity’s “dialectical tension,” I definitely am interested in one of his observations about the “paradox” of creative people.

Creative people combine playfulness and discipline, or responsibility and irresponsibility

This is a theme that comes up again and again when professional artists and writers talk about how they approach their work. I’m thinking in particular of things I’ve read recently by Stephen King, Anne Lamott, and Twyla Tharp.

Most all makers with longevity talk about a process that involves regular, scheduled work periods that allow generous time for warmups and getting into what Csikszentmihalyi himself has called, “Flow.” For as long as he or she can stay in that Flow state, a good artist is capable of synthesizing unbelievably disparate material and ideas in a way that’s often satisfying and productive. For those who cannot, it means another morning of video games, Facebook, and binge eating.

Artists who are in the early draft stage of a given project tend to adopt a generative attitude about capturing and accepting whatever shows up without judgment or self-editing — having a gentle attitude about imperfection that gives “bad” or “incomplete” ideas the same wide berth as the the apparently-great ones.

This is not stressful for the gifted artist who knows the dirty little secret that nobody shits a masterpiece; it’s all about editing, re-writing, and shaping the raw materials into something that will eventually become whole, polished, and cohesive. Eventually. But, first, you have to get something down. And that’s where that supposed “paradox” sure comes in handy.

My 8th grade English teacher, Mr. Selfe, introduced the concept of the paradox by saying it was something that “contradicts itself…or seems to contradict itself.” I recall my 14-year-old self thinking both my teacher and this recursive concept were very profound and deep. But, really, that second part is entirely appropriate here.

The artistic combining of “playfulness and discipline” only seems contradictory to the aspiring artist who believes creativity means buying a beret and playing a Miles Davis record while you shoot black-tar heroin. The truth is that creativity is much more about combining the self-discipline to tolerate ambiguity with the will to transform the results into something meaningful. It’s not really contradictory; it’s largely an issue of intentionality and attention.

If you can find a regular time and place where you feel safe to let all your ideas sit naked for a while, you’re much more likely to produce work you can be proud of. Granted, in the editing process, you’ll adopt a schizophrenic alternation between openness and judgment, but it’s still not really a paradox at all — no more than “heads” and “tails” make a coin paradoxical.

Sure: you can call this, “dialectical tension” if you like. But, from a tactical standpoint, this stuff comes down to basic attention management — finding a way to shut out everything that’s not the thing that requires your focus to get made.

And, yeah, “talent” doesn’t hurt either, but there’s no way to even discover if you have talent until you’ve made a lot of crap and an occasional good thing, and find a way for that all to be okay. Plus, anyone can tell you, “talent” is like having a nice ass or a rich father; it helps open doors, but the actual work on the other side of the door is all on you.

Donate your beret to Goodwill, clear a Saturday morning, and maybe brew a pot of coffee. You have a lot of work to do, and the paradox is that you can’t work on it while you’re reading about the non-paradox of creative paradoxes.

How you like that one, Mr. Selfe?

”Attention & Ambiguity: The Non-Paradox of Creative Work” was written by Merlin Mann for 43Folders.com and was originally posted on August 20, 2008. Except as noted, it's ©2008 Merlin Mann and licensed for reuse under CC BY-NC-ND 3.0. "Why a footer?"

Closed Doors and Casualties in the "Coup d'attention"

Merlin Mann — Sat, 16 Aug 2008 12:37:31 -0400

Last night, I got home from a lovely one-day trip to do some speaking, and I was catching up on a couple emails before I went to bed. One of the messages was a thoughtful note from someone who works in the US Government (and whose name, job, and identifying elements I’m changing to protect his or her privacy).

“Sally,” I’ll call her, likes the 43 Folders stuff, but has legitimate concerns about how all this “attention management” stuff might send a wrong or hostile message to her colleagues. It’s a great point.

As is so often the case, I ended up realizing I had a lot to say in the response, and, if you’ll indulge me, I’d like to share what I had to say to Sally with you, as well. Especially since it’s a question that’s been coming up a lot, and I’m happy to have had the chance to address it at length.

The Question to Me

“Does managing your attention have to mean acting like a jerk?”

A Nice Exchange with “Sally”

“Sally Griffith” wrote:

Heya, Merlin - big fan of all your talks and trying to figure out a way to get the [BIG US GOVERNMENT DEPARTMENT] to hire you to speak to we [KNOWLEDGE WORKERS] who really produce nothing but knowledge - and then only occasionally.

I just looked at your new slide deck. The one thing I didn’t see (but you may have covered it in your patter) are the intangible “costs” of working in this way. An open door policy gets you interrupted, but pays off in morale and people thinking that you care. Walling yourself off from distractions, you project a nasty image: if I ever were to give anybody a token that says “don’t waste my time,” instant loathing and mockery would ensue. So might be a topic for a future MM talk: How do you do Inbox Zero w/o sacrificing the intangibles?

Then I replied:

To me, what’s important is to make yourself accessible to the people who need you when they need you, but within reason — this is really different from ceding 100% access to anyone anytime. That…is insane, and it does favors only for the people who can’t be bothered to get their shit together and honor a reasonable schedule. (IMHO)

This is all about managing expectations.

Today I learned about a guy who’s one of the most respected and admired people in his company; and everybody in the company knows that his door is closed (really closed — no interruptions, no exceptions) all morning every morning. That? That is when he works. Then after lunch, through the end of the day, his door never closes — yes, come in and “interrupt” all you want. That’s the whole idea. And it works great.

He’s hugely successful, not because he says, “Sure! Squander my time whenever it occurs to you,” but because he essentially tells the world, “Look: both of our time is valuable; I will make time for you, but never for a minute think that I’m your Mommy.”

He’s created an expectation people understand and respect. So they get their shit together before they ever consider asking for his attention. That’s some Batman-level shit, if you ask me.

Also? People will always despise you if you end up doing less stupid BS than they choose to suffer. If you start to firewall your time, it makes you look like a “snob,” right? Meh. I understand and acknowledge your point — it’s up to each of us how to decide the most civil way to get what we need. And, certainly, jokey stuff like Mike’s meeting tokens don’t necessarily need to govern the way you choose to treat actual people. I should make that clearer, but I guess I hope that’s always understood: this all has to be adjusted to what works for you.

But I reject the idea that we should sweat those people who refuse to understand why attention is worth being picky about in the first place. If they can’t respect that in themselves, of course they won’t respect that in you. They aren’t capable. And, if you ask me, it’s time to stop positively reinforcing that kind of execrable behavior.

Then Sally responded:

Point taken. I’m shocked that you took the time to reply. You are a mensch.

Thanks!

Then I said:

For you, Sally? Anything! :-)

Because here’s the real (REAL) secret of attention management: once you stop doing all the stuff you don’t care about, you get an extraordinary amount of time to do the stuff you DO care about. Like making a connection with nice, thoughtful people like Sally Griffith.

Make sense?

your new internet friend,
Merlin

Odd Man Out

Here’s the thing. It’s like being able to see The Matrix; once you realize the control you can choose to exercise regarding your attention, you’ll start to see all the unnecessary waste that everybody else thinks is unavoidable, natural, and even healthy (“I NEVER shut off my BlackBerry!”). See? Now, you are the weird one. Weirdo.

But, man, what a difference it makes to see (but ignore) all those things that you used to allow in. Things that now just bounce off you like raindrops. While everybody else is walking around wearing sponges.

Guy on the Soap Box

Also? Yeah. I understand that I have a really strong personality and know how to push a button until it breaks. That doesn’t mean you have to love me or try to emulate me — you know what you need to do to be the person you want to be.

But, I also tend to shrug my shoulders at folks who charge that this kind of attitude is too aggressive. Maybe. Maybe not.

I believe this is a message that needs to reach everyone, and I’m entirely willing to risk people disagreeing with or actively disliking what I have to say if it means that people who feel they’ve lost control of their life may get to hear it and realize for themselves why this stuff matters. Today.

Why We Fight

As with any revolution, the attention management coup will not be without its (metaphorical) blood, toil, sweat, and tears. C’est la guerre.

Today, you can find 10,000 reasons to keep letting people, institutions, and media noise continue to waste your life. I have only one reason you should not, so I say it over and over again. Often loudly:

Your attention needs a defender. And the people who want you to apologize for that are precisely the reason you need a stronger and more unapologetic defense.

”Closed Doors and Casualties in the "Coup d'attention"” was written by Merlin Mann for 43Folders.com and was originally posted on August 16, 2008. Except as noted, it's ©2008 Merlin Mann and licensed for reuse under CC BY-NC-ND 3.0. "Why a footer?"

Making Time to Make: One Clear Line

Merlin Mann — Thu, 07 Aug 2008 01:10:45 -0400

This article is Part 3 of a 3-part series about attention management for people who do creative work called, Making Time to Make.
Previously: Part 1, Bad Correspondence
Then: Part 2, The Job You Think You Have

Could an email recluse like Neal Stephenson just cowboy up by agreeing to a monthly chat session or the occasional visit to a fan forum? Sure, he could. Could a volunteer intern scan Neal’s email once a week for particularly wonderful notes? You bet. Could he even conceivably just drop all the blast shields, open a chat room, “livestream” from his desk, and then spend the rest of his life answering questions from people with nothing better to do? Maybe. Sure. But, probably not. He’s already told us as much, hasn’t he?

The point, from my perspective, is that Stephenson possesses the man-sized pant stones to declare precisely what the people who enjoy his work should expect from him. And, in so doing, he has drawn a clear line that some might find hard to love, but that is very easy to see, understand, and respect. No, he didn’t hire someone to answer his email, or get a kid to pretend to be him on Twitter, or install a Greasemonkey script that “autopokes” people on Facebook (I’ll leave you to guess which two of these I do).

Neal Stephenson essentially said, “Listen, gang, here’s what I’m going to make for you: novels.” And then, he went back to typing. To working. On work.

Get Ready for the First World

No, sir, no one that I know (including me, of course) could ever get away with such an ambitious opossum routine when his primary medium is the web — and, really, who’d want to?

It’s fun and gratifying to connect with people, to find common interests, and to make things as a group. That’s why the internet is so much more fun than reading the corkboard at your laundromat. Usually.

The challenge for each of us today — maker, worker, leader, or layabout — is to figure out where our own clear line should be drawn, and to determine how we effectively communicate where that line is in a way that’s useful, civil, and as open as we need for it to be. Again, though, all in the context of firewalling time to make things.

If this all strikes you as fancy, handlebar moustache talk from an old misanthrope who doesn’t get things like whatever the hell we’re calling “conversations” this week, maybe you’re on to something. You wouldn’t be the first to say so. And, if you’re honestly completely unburdened by doing the things that are important to you while staying in joyful personal contact with everyone who wants it from you — then, I do applaud you. I guess. Although, frankly, I think you’re probably fibbing at least a little.

Drawing Your Line

For myself, I think it’s critical to set reasonable expectations about how, when, and where people can expect to have authentic, honest-to-God contact with us, and here’s why: if you leave every channel open to everybody and anybody, all the time and without limit, you necessarily prevent yourself from ever stepping away from the fray for long enough to focus. You’ll never make the time that it takes to produce the sort of good work that theoretically made you so appealing in the first place.

And, perhaps as importantly, you also can never devote your undivided attention to the biped mammals who are breathing air in the room with you. Here. People. With faces and hands. Not “friends,” but friends. Real people. Because, if total focus on the known important stuff in your life has to battle with a never-ending doorbell attached to your brain, it’s hard for me to imagine how your work, or your family, or your sense of who you are, alone in a room without the ringing, can possibly thrive. But, again, that’s really up to you to decide.

Balanced Patterns for Recovering Time to Make

If you’re determined to get back to work today — to start making more than SMTP queries — here are a few patterns for helping you find your way. Adapt as needed.

Clarify your needs

Think about what kind of environment you need to do your best work, and consider what you’d want to change today in order to make that environment more accessible to you for uninterrupted blocks of time.

Consider that the busy work, meta work, and stupid or boring monkey work in the life of a creative person should serve one purpose: clear the decks of distraction so you and your brain can work uninterrupted. To me, that is “Step 0.”

Define “OFF”

Decide what it means to be “available” versus “not available” at a given time. How long can your world tolerate your absence, and what does it look like when you re-surface? What needs to change in order to minimize stress and drama? Remember, the time you make needs to be all yours to the greatest degree possible. If you can still hear the phone ring or the baby crying, you may not really be “OFF” yet.

Consider the equivalent of a safe word for when the really important stuff needs to punch through your firewall. This is a young field with blunt tools right now, so consider employing wetware; work with a partner, colleague, or friend to be your attention sentry during times when you need to go off the grid for half a day. Reciprocate.

Draw your line

Make it clear how, when, where, and for how long people can expect to interact one-on-one with you. Don’t hesitate to point to community forums and mailing lists to which you contribute, FAQs you’ve answered a million times, or any other resource that liberates the previous use of your attention by exposing the fruit of its labors to the world.

How? Could be lots of ways, but whatever you use, try to find automation and economies of scale. That means:

add info on your Contact page explaining what people can expect from you
use auto-responses and email templates
where necessary send short responses to clarify when you’ll be available again

Also? Google. Tell people about this amazing new thing called “Google.” Apparently, it’s a service that helps people find all kinds of information without sending a single email. Handy.

Be honest

In the case of email in particular, you quickly learn the irony that a short response — far from retiring a topic — often is regarded as confirmation that you “want to play,” providing unintentional encouragement to send you lots more email. And, then come the growing expectations, now that you’ve unconsciously shown yourself to be an email punk.

Listen: if someone starts demanding a level of engagement with you that you can’t meet, just say so. And consider telling them why. You’d never hesitate to say “I have a doctor’s appointment,” so don’t be embarassed to say, “I can’t talk to you now, I’m in the studio all morning.” If you can’t work because you’re distracted by someone who wants to argue about how you spelled “wookiee” (don’t laugh — it’s happened to me twice; once when I was wrong and again when I was right), you need to cut the cord.

Also, keep in mind that most time burglars eat excuses for lunch. There’s an entire industry around shooting down excuses, and it’s called “sales.” Give people the honest attentional equivalent of “I have no money, and I’m not interested.” And, if that doesn’t work? Yes, lie. Tell them you’re dying, and today you’re going to SeaWorld with your church youth group for the last time.

Let bits drop

You’ll need to decide for yourself where the floor is in terms of requests for your attention that don’t require (or deserve) a response. V14g#RA spam clearly does not need a “No, thank you,” but what about the guy with the terrible new book who suddenly wants to be your boon companion and wants to “keep in touch” thrice weekly? For me? Those emails maybe don’t get answered so much. (Sorry, I Have a New Book Guy: at least I didn’t use your name)

Remember: for a lot of people, your one-time attention and decency will instantly be melted down to base metals for shit like PR blasts, “funny joke lists” (aka ‘blogging for old people’), and frequent help desk-style requests. If you’ve decided that this stuff is out of scope for your time on The Marble, systematically destroy it with brutally efficient filters that are the equivalent of Tachy Goes to Coventry.

To paraphrase the great Lucas Jackson:

Sometimes null can be a pretty cool response.

Be courageous

If someone cannot understand or accept why the judicious use of your attention — and its application in the service of making work for a broader audience than exactly them — takes precedence over their need to repeatedly monopolize your time, dump them. This is not a good person.

But! Also remember to be cool

I’ll never forget the time that Jonathan Richman answered my stupid fan mail. Those 2 sentences on a piece of paper with his return address on it meant the world to me in 1988.

Always remember that some contact is just about a human connection, and that’s such a great thing. Just be realistic about how much of it you can personally manage, and then make the effort to reach back to people who are awesome.

And, NO, the whole point of this is that you can’t ever answer them all (and I’m not saying you should try), but if you can respond to 5, 10, or 20 emails or forum posts per week, without stepping on your “make” time, you’ll also make some really nice new friends.

Hint¹: Given limited time, always favor contact with young people; they need the high-five, and it means an awful lot when you reach back to them. These are good people.
Hint²: PR people who want to “thank you” for your work and then sign you up for a “webinar” do not count. These are not good people.

Noted in passing: Outside of various record sites, I can’t immediately find anything like an official anything for Jonathan Richman today. Don’t know if this is symptomatic of his long-professed affection for simple, old-timey things, or if he’s just decided to no longer field questions about The Velvet Underground from stoney liberal arts students.

Identify and engage your high-value targets

Embrace the disingenuous charge of elitism (or, as I prefer to call it, maturity) by not pretending that everyone is equally “special” to you. Remind the people who matter to you that you’re always available for them, then tell them how to do that, including specific instructions (n.b. this is important for relatives who think the internet is just eBay, urban myths, and Joel Osteen). Get a friends-only email address. Get a friends-only GrandCentral number. Do whatever it takes to provide a backchannel for your super-secret network.

Widen the channels to the people you adore, and never make them suffer by your weird compulsion to wave at strangers. You have plenty of time to make new friends, but for God’s sake, don’t neglect the ones you already have and enjoy. These are good people.

Respect others

In the interest of sharing the aloha with all the makers and consumers in your world, consider making it excruciatingly easy to deal with you. Especially when it comes to email. Everything goes both ways, so remember that anyone you contact today could be having the best or worst week of his life; choose your ultimatums with care and context.

Work. work, work.

The hard work of a creative life is a topic that I’ll be returning to often over the next few weeks, but here’s my one pro tip for you today: once you’ve stolen back your time and wrangled your attention, put it to good use by making awesome stuff that everyone you want to delight can enjoy. Throw a giant tent party for the world and show off what you can do when you stop compulsively typing for an audience of one. Get your awesome out where we can all see it.

Make it, release it, and make more. And never apologize to anyone for demanding the respect for your attention that you, your work, and the people who enjoy it each deserves. Make the time.

”Making Time to Make: One Clear Line” was written by Merlin Mann for 43Folders.com and was originally posted on August 07, 2008. Except as noted, it's ©2008 Merlin Mann and licensed for reuse under CC BY-NC-ND 3.0. "Why a footer?"