We are spending more attention cash than our brain wallets have, and our cognitive debts are trying desperately to tell us something: “It might be time for a brain budget”

We are collectively living and working in a way that rapidly depletes our ‘attention resources’. This concept is similar to “living within one’s means” or understanding and actively knowing and not choosing to push your body beyond its functional limit (I cannot run as fast as a racehorse, I have tried and it didn’t end well). So we can think of attention resources in the same light, but applied to your brain—finite and essential to everything we do. There is only so much thinking and processing our brains can manage. 

I am not just talking about neurodivergent folks brains here, this idea about cognitive capacity applies to every type of brain.

Attention resources refer to the limited cognitive capacities that we allocate to the critical task of processing and responding to stimuli. Let me roll that out one more time: they are FINITE (NB: I always read the word ‘finite’ in an Italian accent, try it, go on). Ok so these limitations profoundly shape our ability to function, and the societal glorification of hyper-productivity alongside the technological hijacking of our focus has created a world entirely hostile to sustained, deep attention. This depletion is not an individual problem—it’s a systemic and societal one, eroding the way we work, live, and engage with the world. We don’t (and we shouldn’t) blame addicts when the thing they picked up to help them feel ok was 100% designed to be insanely addictive. 

The constant overharvesting of our brain power, whether from incessant phone notifications or the relentless pace of modern communication and work, is leading to significant psychological consequences. One major (I think it is major, you might think otherwise) outcome is a lack of depth in our experiences. With our attention repeatedly fragmented, we flit from one thing to the next (like a golden retriever unleashed in a room with 25 bowls of food) without connecting deeply enough to truly understand, reflect, or even feel a sense of accomplishment. We’ve become locked in a cycle of constant surface-level task switching, perpetually rushed and overwhelmed, holding a belief of “there’s just so much to do.” 

Another well-documented effect of draining our attention resources is STRESS. While stress can motivate us in small, short-term doses, chronic stress—like the kind many of us experience daily—has detrimental impacts on both mental and physical health. Yet, asking someone overwhelmed to “just slow down” often makes things worse. It triggers resistance, as slowing down feels incompatible with the relentless to-do lists we face and even threatening to an overtaxed nervous system that is already running on fumes. What happened the last time you were feeling stressed and cooked and someone (well meaning I am sure) told you to calm/slow down? (Didn’t go down well?…didn’t think so). 

It’s also worth considering how our brains are wired for energy conservation, often pushing us to take the easiest, most immediate path. While this is natural, it’s important to acknowledge that challenging ourselves—like perhaps choosing a more intentional, analogue path over a digital one—may offer a profound sense of achievement, reward, and confidence. I really do wonder, what might happen if we had a bit more mental and emotional capacity….hell, you might take up painting again like you used to, or be able to meditate, or finish a book. For me? Well I would finally learn the piano part from ‘November Rain’ by Guns ‘n’ Roses. 

So perhaps the more difficult, yet worthwhile, question is this: How might we begin to recalibrate the balance between the analogue and the digital in our daily lives to reclaim focus, reduce stress, and protect our mental reserves?

Will go and buy that piano right now!

References:  

Wickens, C. D., Gutzwiller, R. S., & McCarley, J. S. (2023).

Applied attention theory (2nd ed.). CRC Press.Unlocking the Stress Cycle. (2024). Probate and Property, 38(1), 62–63.