More from the NY Times (March 8 Week in Review): The Cost of Paying Attention. The title of this post is also the title of a book by Matthew Crawford, who authored the Times piece, which decries the monetization of every conceivable aspect of our attention, an activity all the more scary (to me) in the way it has insinuated itself into our lives largely unnoticed.
A few years ago, in a supermarket, I swiped my bank card to pay for groceries. I watched the little screen, waiting for its prompts. During the intervals between swiping my card, confirming the amount and entering my PIN, I was shown advertizements. Clearly some genius had realized that a person in this situation is a captive audience.
Attention is a resource; a person has only so much of it. And yet we've auctioned off more and more of our public space to private commercial interests, with their constant demands on us to look at their products on display or simply absorb some bit of corporate messaging. Lately our self appointed disruptors have opened up a new frontier of capitalism, complete with its own frontier ethic: to boldly dig up and monetize every bit of private head space by appropriating our collective attention . . .
Silence is now offered as a luxury good. In the business-class lounge at Charles de Gaulle Airport, I heard only the occasional tinkling of a spoon against china. I saw no advertizements on the walls. This silence, more than any other feature is what makes it feel genuinely luxurious. . .
Outside in the peon section, is the usual airport cacophony. Because we have allowed our attention to be monetized, if you want yours back, you're going to have to pay for it.
A few years ago, in a supermarket, I swiped my bank card to pay for groceries. I watched the little screen, waiting for its prompts. During the intervals between swiping my card, confirming the amount and entering my PIN, I was shown advertizements. Clearly some genius had realized that a person in this situation is a captive audience.
Attention is a resource; a person has only so much of it. And yet we've auctioned off more and more of our public space to private commercial interests, with their constant demands on us to look at their products on display or simply absorb some bit of corporate messaging. Lately our self appointed disruptors have opened up a new frontier of capitalism, complete with its own frontier ethic: to boldly dig up and monetize every bit of private head space by appropriating our collective attention . . .
Silence is now offered as a luxury good. In the business-class lounge at Charles de Gaulle Airport, I heard only the occasional tinkling of a spoon against china. I saw no advertizements on the walls. This silence, more than any other feature is what makes it feel genuinely luxurious. . .
Outside in the peon section, is the usual airport cacophony. Because we have allowed our attention to be monetized, if you want yours back, you're going to have to pay for it.