Why it's better to waste five minutes looking at cats being cute on YouTube than an hour reading news blogs
Atlantic editor Robert Wright and New York Times reporter Charles Duhigg have had an interesting conversation about procrastination. Duhigg’s theory is that when you click onto Twitter when you’re stuck on a sentence when you’re writing, that’s actually an entirely appropriate response - distracting your conscious brain while your subconscious works on the knotty problem. (This, presumably, is why it’s so socially acceptable for executives to play endless golf.)
The problem, though, as Wright points out, is that it’s never a two-minute Twitter break, is it? It’s a twenty-minute, or hour-long Twitter break, or BBC News break, or Daily Mail break, or The Verge break, or whatever it is you’re into.
Duhigg goes on in another clip to suggest some tools for rewarding yourself for stopping these breaks after an allotted amount of time. But I think that’s missing the point. The thing that makes the internet such a pernicious driver of procrastination - apart from the fact that it exists on the same screen which we’re trying to work on, so is terrifyingly easy to stray into - is that it is essentially infinite, but appears finite.
When I’ve read five minutes of Twitter, I’m not thinking about the five minute’s worth of Tweets I’ve read, or the seven articles I’ve added to my already-overflowing Instapaper queue - I’m thinking about all the Tweets I’ve yet to read. I want to keep scrolling, keep reading. But not in the way that, when my alarm goes off in the morning, I want to stay in bed. It’s not that I want another five minutes of the experience of being in Twitter. It’s that I’ve only gone back through the last three hours of my news stream, and there are so many other tweets from before that time that I feel I ought to read. In my head, there is a manageable amount of information there which I can - and perhaps even should, in order to be an interesting and enlightened person - consume.
In this way, media-based procrastination is different to experiential procrastination. If I take a break by playing solitaire, I may finish a game and immediately want to play another one. But I know that after that second game, I’ll only want to play a third; it’s inherently infinite and thus carrying on is inherently pointless. But with the internet, while there’s always something new out there to read, we usually feel like it’s possible to read ‘all there is to read.’ To scroll through all the new tweets until you get to the ones you read last night in bed. To read through all the new articles on your favourite news site until you get to the ones you read on the bus home last evening. There seems to be a finite amount of new stuff to consume, so you allow yourself to aim to consume it all. You turn what was supposed to be a break from your allotted task into a task.
The solution? Somehow, to visualise the internet not as an in-tray of information to be scanned, triaged, and either addressed or discarded; but as a river of information to be dipped into and out of at will. The irony is that, the sillier the aspects of the internet you look at for procrastination purposes, the less likely you’ll be to convince yourself that you ‘need’ or ‘should’ keep on with them past the two- or five- or seven-minute mark. It’s easy to convince yourself you ‘should’ keep up with what your Twitter contacts were saying 12 hours ago, in case you miss something interesting. It’s hard to say that about watching the latest video of an anaesthetised child saying the darnedest things.
Reading news might seem more worthwhile but, if it means you take longer away from the actual task your’e supposed to be doing, it’s a cost, not a benefit. Of course, the same could be said, for most of us, for writing blog posts. But that’s another post. One I really should write later, before I finish this article I’m supposed to be writing.