Bored and Brilliant

Bored and Brilliant Plot Summary

Introduction

The morning sun spilled through the blinds as Sarah reached for her phone, still half-asleep. Before her feet even touched the floor, she'd already checked her email, scrolled through social media, and responded to three text messages. By the time she arrived at work, her mind felt scattered, fragmented from the constant digital pings. That night, as she tucked her daughter into bed, she realized with a pang that she'd barely made eye contact with her all evening, both of them lost in their respective screens. This scenario plays out in millions of homes every day. We live in an era where our attention is perhaps the most valuable and contested resource on the planet. The digital revolution has connected us in unprecedented ways while simultaneously fragmenting our focus and challenging our capacity for deep thought. The question isn't whether technology is good or bad—it's how we can harness its benefits while protecting our fundamental human need for uninterrupted thought, meaningful connection, and the creative insights that emerge when our minds are allowed to wander. Throughout the following chapters, we'll explore the fascinating science behind boredom, attention, and creativity, offering practical strategies to reclaim mental space in our hyperconnected world.

Chapter 1: The Brain on Boredom: Our Mind's Default Mode

Greg Colon walks slowly through the quiet galleries of the Guggenheim Museum in New York City, his hands clasped behind his back in the characteristic stance of a security guard. Hour after hour, day after day, his job requires him to pace the same rooms, ensuring visitors maintain a respectful distance from priceless works of art. To an outside observer, this might seem like the epitome of tedium—the same walls, the same paintings, the same instructions repeated endlessly. Yet for Greg, these hours of apparent monotony have transformed his relationship with art. "Your mind goes to different places that you don't even want it to go to sometimes," he explains. During his fifteen years guarding masterpieces, the quiet spaces between visitor interactions have allowed him to develop a profound connection with the artwork. He notices subtle details in brushstrokes that most hurried visitors miss. He observes how light changes a painting's appearance throughout the day. In the seeming emptiness of boredom, his mind has found richness. This phenomenon isn't just anecdotal—it's supported by neuroscience. When our brains aren't actively engaged in an external task, they activate what scientists call the "default mode network." Dr. Marcus Raichle, who discovered this neural system, explains that far from being idle during these periods of apparent downtime, our brains are actually extremely active in processing memories, contemplating our place in the world, and making creative connections that wouldn't emerge during focused attention. Research by cognitive psychologist Dr. Sandi Mann further illuminates this connection between boredom and creativity. In one revealing experiment, she had participants copy phone numbers from a directory—an intentionally tedious task—before asking them to generate creative uses for everyday objects. The results were clear: people who had just experienced boredom came up with significantly more original ideas than those who hadn't. When Mann increased the boredom factor by having participants read the phone numbers aloud instead of copying them, creativity levels rose even higher. The implications are profound. When we constantly fill every moment with digital stimulation—checking emails while waiting in line, scrolling through social media during commercial breaks—we're unknowingly depriving ourselves of the mental space where some of our most valuable thinking occurs. Our brains need periods of under-stimulation to process experiences, make unexpected connections, and engage in the autobiographical planning that helps us navigate our lives with purpose and meaning.

Chapter 2: Digital Overwhelm: The Attention Economy

In the heart of Manhattan, I conducted an impromptu experiment one morning. Sitting on a street corner, I counted how many pedestrians were engaged with their phones while walking. Of the thousand people who passed by, 315 were typing, looking at, listening to, or simply gripping their devices. My unscientific survey revealed that one-third of all pedestrians were using their phones in some way. A more official study by City University of New York's Lehman College found the numbers even more alarming—nearly half of pedestrians at busy Manhattan intersections were so distracted by their devices that they ignored red lights when crossing streets. These behaviors reflect a fundamental shift in how our attention is valued and targeted. As technology forecaster Alex Soojung-Kim Pang puts it, "Smartphones behave like a four-year-old child. Their default is set to alert you to absolutely everything." Every notification, every update, every ping is designed to interrupt whatever you're doing and redirect your focus. It's not just annoying—it's by design. The economics behind this attention capture are staggering. As Tristan Harris, a former Google Design Ethicist, explains, "We're in a race to the bottom of the brain stem." Tech companies employ thousands of engineers whose sole purpose is to make their products as engaging—or addictive—as possible. They utilize psychological principles like variable rewards (the same mechanism that makes slot machines so compelling) to keep us checking, scrolling, and tapping. Dr. Mary Helen Immordino-Yang, a neuroscientist at USC, describes how this constant engagement forms behavioral habits: "It's a content-, context-specific reflex that we teach ourselves to do by habitual practice." The result is a conditioned response that's difficult to break even when we want to. She notes that many of us are "like lab rats conditioned to check our phones way more often than we need to in order to be responsible workers or friends." The consequences extend beyond just wasted time. Gloria Mark's research at UC Irvine has found that the more people switch their attention between tasks, the higher their stress levels rise. Even more concerning, after periods of frequent external interruptions, people begin to interrupt themselves more often, creating a self-perpetuating cycle that fragments focus and elevates anxiety. As we navigate this attention economy, we face an essential question: How can we use technology's tremendous benefits while protecting our capacity for sustained thought and creativity? The answer begins with understanding that digital distraction isn't just about willpower—it's about recognizing and resisting an entire economic system designed to capitalize on our attention.

Chapter 3: Smartphone Habits: The Unconscious Addiction

"I know this sounds strange, but I didn't even know where I was. I was, like, wait—am I talking to my friends or am I at camp?" These were the words of Kimmy, a teenager at Camp Longacre in rural Pennsylvania, describing her experience during an unusual experiment. Camp director Matt Smith had made a radical departure from standard summer camp policy—instead of banning smartphones, he allowed campers to keep their devices with them at all times. The first day of this experiment revealed just how powerful digital dependencies had become. After a mandatory week-long device detox to help campers connect face-to-face, phones were returned. The scene that followed was telling: kids ran to the only cabin with electricity, hunched over their devices, and completely ignored each other. Some reported feeling disoriented, unsure whether they were physically at camp or mentally back in their digital social worlds. This visceral reaction reflects what neuroscientists now understand about smartphone habits. Dr. Scott Barry Kaufman, scientific director of the Imagination Institute, explains that our devices activate the brain's dopamine system, which influences our expectations and reward-seeking behavior. "Higher levels of dopamine are linked to being more open to new things and novelty seeking," he says. This system—which evolved to help us seek out essential resources and new opportunities—is now being hijacked by the constant novelty of notifications, likes, and updates. The psychological hold is so strong that it manifests physically. Research by Dr. Arko Ghosh found that smartphone users display measurably different brain activity when using their thumbs and fingers compared to non-users. The more they texted, the larger the brain's electrical response grew. Our neural pathways are literally being reshaped by our interactions with these devices. For Cynan Clucas, a British marketing executive, this reshaping had profound consequences. After noticing significant declines in his ability to manage tasks and concentrate, he sought medical help, fearing early-onset dementia. The diagnosis surprised him: adult ADHD. Though doctors assured him he must have always had the condition, Cynan believes his symptoms emerged only after years of outsourcing his mental responsibilities to apps and digital tools. "By delegating to technology, we think that technology somehow is going to resolve problems for us," he reflects. "But it doesn't, because the more that you delegate, the less your brain has to be engaged." What makes smartphone habits particularly challenging to break is their integration into every aspect of our lives. Unlike cigarettes or alcohol, which are used in specific contexts, our phones serve as tools for work, family communication, navigation, banking, and countless other essential functions. This integration makes it difficult to establish boundaries or recognize when casual use has crossed into dependency. Understanding the neurological and psychological underpinnings of our relationships with digital devices is the first step toward reclaiming agency. These aren't just habits of convenience—they're deeply embedded patterns that require conscious effort and practical strategies to reshape.

Chapter 4: Memory and Photos: How Capturing Changes Experience

The Louvre Museum in Paris houses one of the world's most famous paintings—the Mona Lisa. Yet visitors today can barely see Leonardo da Vinci's masterpiece through the forest of smartphones raised in front of it. This scene repeats at attractions worldwide, from natural wonders to historical monuments. Even in remote wilderness areas like Montana's Glacier National Park, rangers report visitors surrounding wild animals, phones outstretched, sometimes creating dangerous situations just to capture the perfect shot. The numbers are staggering: Americans take more than 10 billion photos every month. Seventy-five percent of all photos are now taken with phones. Snapchat users share 8,796 photos every second. In 2014, people uploaded an average of 1.8 billion digital images every day. This explosion of photography has fundamentally changed both the purpose of taking pictures and the experience of the moments we're trying to capture. For many of us, photographs once marked special occasions—birthdays, graduations, rare family gatherings. Now they document everything from breakfast to business meetings. As one teenager explained in our survey, "Photos are the primary way that we keep in touch. I would feel very lonely without taking or receiving photos." These images have become a form of communication rather than purely documentation, carrying messages like "I'm thinking of you" or "Look at me" or "Isn't this gorgeous?" But this shift comes with unexpected costs. Linda Henkel, a psychology professor at Fairfield University, discovered what she calls the "photo-taking-impairment effect." In her research, museum visitors who photographed artwork remembered fewer details about the pieces than those who simply observed them. "When you take a photo of something, you're counting on the camera to remember for you," Henkel explains. "You're basically saying, 'Okay, I don't need to think about this any further. The camera's captured the experience.'" The effect extends beyond memory. UCLA's Lauren Sherman found that the brain's reward center responds more strongly to images with more "likes," regardless of content. This was true even of photographs taken by the study subjects themselves—rather than forming independent judgments about their own work, teenagers deferred to peer approval. Our perception of experiences is increasingly filtered through anticipated social media response. Perhaps most concerning is how photography affects our presence in the moment. Sherry Turkle, an MIT professor and author of Reclaiming Conversation, shares the story of a father who took his daughter on a school field trip to connect with her. Instead, he spent the entire time taking pictures, posting them to Facebook, and tracking his likes—until his daughter pointed out he hadn't spoken to her in over an hour. Our impulse to document everything reflects a beautiful human desire to preserve fleeting moments. Yet when capturing replaces experiencing, we lose something essential. The most vivid memories form not when we outsource the moment to our devices, but when we engage fully with our senses, emotions, and those around us. Finding balance means recognizing when to put down the camera and simply be present, trusting that some experiences are meant to be lived rather than documented.

Chapter 5: Deep Work: Finding Focus in the Age of Distraction

In 2004, the Boston Consulting Group (BCG) conducted an experiment that seemed risky for a high-performance global firm. Consultants, who typically remained perpetually on call for wealthy clients, were asked to do something radical: completely disconnect from work for scheduled periods. No emails, no phone calls—they were instructed to "do something relaxing" instead. The consultants initially panicked. BCG's culture demanded constant availability—checking messages religiously, canceling personal plans when necessary, being reachable at all hours. But with careful implementation and assurances that someone would always cover emergencies, they gave it a try. The results were transformative. Not only did consultants reclaim their personal lives, but they also began communicating more effectively at work, focusing on big-picture thinking rather than constant small updates, and generating more innovative solutions to complex problems. This experiment highlights what Cal Newport, author of Deep Work, identifies as an increasingly rare and valuable skill: "the ability to focus without distraction on a cognitively demanding task." In our hyperconnected workplace culture, the capacity for sustained concentration has become both more valuable and more endangered. The challenge extends beyond our professional lives. Maryanne Wolf, director of the Center for Reading and Language Research at Tufts University, discovered this firsthand when she attempted to reread a beloved classic, Hermann Hesse's The Glass Bead Game. "I couldn't do it anymore!" she confessed. "I couldn't slow my reading down to really allocate sufficient attention to what is basically a very difficult and demanding book." Years of skimming digital content had atrophied her ability to engage with complex text—a capacity she had to deliberately rebuild through consistent practice. Even creative professionals struggle with maintaining focus. Jad Abumrad, the MacArthur Genius Grant–winning host of Radiolab, describes how producing a single episode requires hours of tedious work—transcribing interviews, making countless revisions, organizing material. "It doesn't feel creative at all," he says. "It's almost like organizing thumbtacks." Yet this patient attention to detail is precisely what makes breakthrough creative work possible. Part of the problem is that our workplaces and technology are designed to maximize interruption rather than concentration. A study by Professor Gloria Mark found that people shifted their attention between online and offline activities approximately every three minutes—and this fragmentation has only increased in recent years, with attention spans now averaging just forty-five seconds when working online. In response, some organizations are reimagining how work gets done. Jeff Bezos begins Amazon staff meetings with thirty minutes of silent reading, giving participants time to digest complex material before discussion. German companies like Volkswagen have implemented policies shutting down email servers after hours. French labor laws now make it illegal for companies with fifty or more employees to send work emails outside regular hours. These institutional approaches recognize what science confirms: our brains require uninterrupted time to process information, make connections, and generate insights. Deep work isn't just about productivity—it's about creating space for the kind of thinking that leads to breakthrough ideas and meaningful progress. As business leaders increasingly value creativity and innovation, protecting our capacity for sustained focus becomes not just a personal wellness issue but an economic imperative.

Chapter 6: Self-Regulation: Practical Steps Toward Digital Balance

David Joerg, a software developer and father of two young girls, had a problem with video games. After putting his children to bed, he would unwind with his favorite game, StarCraft. What started as casual entertainment often spiraled into late-night binges, leaving him exhausted the next day. "By 1:30 A.M., I was looking at the clock, thinking, This is ridiculous," he recalls. But if he hadn't won a game yet, he couldn't bear to stop playing. One thirty would become 2:00 A.M., then 3:00 A.M., giving him just three and a half hours of sleep before his workday began. David tried multiple strategies to control his gaming habit: calendar reminders to go to bed, written rules, even tracking his sleep patterns. Nothing worked for more than two weeks before he relapsed. Finally, reaching the breaking point from sleep deprivation, he created an elaborate technical solution: a system that automatically shut down his computer at 10:00 P.M., with a new password required to override it. To prevent himself from accessing this password, he stored it in five different locations—including inside his daughter's piggy bank and in his wife's nightstand drawer. "She's a pretty light sleeper," he explained, "so if I try to sneak over to get it, she's going to jump up and slap me on the wrist." David's extreme measures highlight the challenge of self-regulation in a digital environment designed to capture and hold our attention. As Nir Eyal, author of Hooked: How to Build Habit-Forming Products, acknowledges, "These industries are based on mind control." Game developers and app designers deliberately incorporate psychological principles like the "endowed progress effect," which makes us more likely to complete tasks when we feel we're nearing completion—whether that's filling out a LinkedIn profile or collecting digital characters. Fortunately, we don't all need to create elaborate technological barricades. Many effective strategies are simpler and more accessible. Alex Soojung-Kim Pang, author of The Distraction Addiction, recommends a four-step approach to better "phone hygiene": turn off non-vital notifications, assign special ringtones to important contacts, keep your phone physically separated from your body when possible, and remember to breathe deeply when checking messages to counter the stress response they often trigger. For families, Jane McGonigal, game designer and author of SuperBetter, advises a thoughtful approach to children's gaming habits. Rather than shaming kids about screen time ("Stop wasting time and do something real"), she recommends engaging with their digital interests by asking questions about the games they play, the challenges they encounter, and the skills they're developing. This approach helps children recognize connections between virtual accomplishments and real-world capabilities. Susan Cain, author of Quiet, reminds us that digital balance isn't about rejection of technology but mindful integration: "A lot of it is negotiating an agreement with yourself. Basically, setting boundaries and not having too much fear of missing out." She suggests scheduling short, restorative breaks throughout the day and establishing clear time limits for social media engagement. Perhaps most importantly, we need to recognize when technology serves us and when it doesn't. Eyal suggests asking one fundamental question about any digital product: "Is this serving me or hurting me?" By distinguishing between conscious use (deliberately choosing to engage with technology for specific purposes) and unconscious habit (mindlessly checking devices whenever there's a free moment), we can begin to reshape our relationship with the digital world. Self-regulation isn't about perfection or complete abstinence from technology. It's about intentionality—making conscious choices about when, how, and why we engage with our devices. In a world designed to capture our attention, reclaiming this agency may be our most important act of digital resistance.

Chapter 7: Rediscovering Wonder: The Value of Observation

Florida high school teacher Joel Adams noticed something remarkable after his class completed a week of challenges focused on reducing smartphone use. Beyond the expected increase in class participation, something more fundamental had shifted: students were making more eye contact—with him and with each other. By temporarily setting aside their screens, they had rediscovered the simple yet profound act of noticing the world and people around them. This capacity for observation—what writer Gary Shteyngart calls being "the great Noticer"—forms the foundation of both creativity and connection. Yet in our screen-dominated era, it's a skill at risk of atrophy. As Shteyngart laments, "Before the days of the iPhone, I would take a cab downtown, stare out the window, and notice a thousand things. When I got home, I would jot them all down. Now I can't notice anything because I am tweeting." The consequences of this diminished observation extend beyond personal creativity. Dr. Mary Helen Immordino-Yang's research with adolescents revealed a troubling correlation: teens who engaged in more social media multitasking showed decreased empathy in their reactions to others and less imagination about their own possible futures two years later. Without time to process and reflect on their experiences, their capacity for understanding others and envisioning possibilities had measurably declined. Rita King, a professional futurist hired by corporations and movie studios to imagine plausible scenarios decades into the future, places this noticing at the core of her creative process. Rather than relying on abstract speculation, she finds inspiration in what she calls the "un-inventable details" of everyday life—snippets of overheard conversation, the particular way light falls across a surface, small human gestures easily missed in our rushed existence. These tiny observations, recorded in notebooks she's kept throughout her life, become the seeds from which larger visions grow. In a similar vein, art student Nisha Ahamed shared how the practice of observation transformed her relationship with a postcard she'd had for twenty years. "During the challenge, I started looking at things much more closely, and 'saw' for the first time a framed postcard I had on my wall at home," she wrote. This renewed attention led her to research the artist, Arthur Shilling, order a book of his work, and ultimately attempt her first portrait drawing—something she'd never before believed she could do. These stories highlight how observation operates not just as passive reception but as an active, creative force. When we truly notice our surroundings, we forge new neural connections, discover unexpected patterns, and cultivate a deeper appreciation for the complexity and beauty of ordinary experience. Marina Abramović, the renowned performance artist, frames this as a fundamental human need: "The only way for us to survive is to go back to simplicity." Reclaiming our capacity for observation doesn't require dramatic life changes. It might be as simple as spending five minutes watching people in a café, noting the particular quality of light in your kitchen, or listening closely to the ambient sounds of your neighborhood. These small moments of attention, accumulated over time, reconnect us to a world rich with detail and meaning—a world easily missed when our gaze remains fixed on screens.

Summary

Throughout our exploration of technology's impact on the human mind, a central truth emerges: the quality of our attention determines the quality of our lives. The digital revolution has delivered unprecedented tools for connection, information, and efficiency, yet simultaneously created new challenges to our fundamental capacity for deep thought, creative insight, and genuine human connection. The scientific evidence is clear—our brains require periods of boredom, unstructured time, and freedom from constant stimulation to process experiences, generate original ideas, and maintain emotional well-being. The path forward isn't about rejecting technology but recalibrating our relationship with it. Each of us can take meaningful steps toward digital balance: creating designated periods of disconnection, adjusting notification settings, practicing mindful observation of our surroundings, and questioning whether our digital habits serve our deeper values and goals. These aren't merely individual wellness practices—they're essential skills for preserving our uniquely human capacities in an increasingly automated world. By protecting spaces for boredom, deep work, and genuine presence, we don't just resist digital overwhelm—we reclaim the mental freedom that makes life rich, creative, and authentically our own.

About Author

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Manoush Zomorodi

Manoush Zomorodi is the incoming host of NPR’s TED Radio Hour and co-founder of Stable Genius Productions. She is also the co-host and co-creator of ZigZag, the business podcast about being human.Investigating how technology and business are transforming humanity is Manoush’s passion and expertise. Her book Bored and Brilliant: How Spacing Out Can Unlock Your Most Creative Self (2017, St. Martin’s Press) and TED Talk (3.3m+ views) are guides to surviving the “Attention Economy.” She was one of Fast Company’s 100 Most Creative People in Business for 2018. Manoush created and hosted the podcast Note to Self from 2013-2019, in partnership with WNYC Studios. The Academy of Podcasters named Note to Self Best Tech Podcast of 2017. Manoush has received numerous awards for her work, including The Gracie in 2014 and 2018 for Best Radio Host.She is half-Persian and half-Swiss but was born in NYC, where she lives with her family.

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