Commitments are hard.
Or maybe they're easy?
I did something kind of dumb last week.1 The post I wanted to publish wasn’t ready to go out early Friday morning, like I had planned, so instead I said oh what the hell let’s see how it does on Friday night.
Turns out timing matters.
I didn’t expect Down the Zoom Drain to blow up like The Notebook Rule (I’m not delusional), but I did expect…well, a bit more of a response than it got. So either it was sort of boring and dumb (it wasn’t) or it’s actually an act of self-sabotage to publish something at the same time as people are sprinting into the weekend.
So I want to give my excellent and insightful take on Zoom meetings one more shot at your valuable attention:
Down the Zoom Drain
If you’ve ever worked remotely, for any amount of time, you’ve probably experienced “Zoom fatigue.” And if it’s happened often enough, you might have wondered why it happens at all. Aren’t video calls supposed to be less demanding than in-person meetings?
OK, now onto this week’s feature...
Commitments are hard.
Or they’re easy.
I can’t decide.
Here’s what it is: commitments are easy to make, and hard to keep.
But what does it mean to keep a commitment? It means you do the thing you say you’re going to do, or don’t do the thing you say you’re not going to do.
Some commitments are cosmically2 trivial, like showing up on time for a dinner date, or getting the oil changed.
This stuff tends to be time-bound and specific. I will specifically do this thing by this time, or I will not do this specific thing over this specific span of time.
But then, take marriage, or veganism.3
Suddenly it’s not so simple.
Both marriage and veganism are a whole basket of commitments, most of which are not time-bounded (except in the sense that the span of an entire lifetime is not, technically, infinite).
Marriage (usually) implies sexual fidelity. I know, I know, there’s such a thing as “open” marriages, but I haven’t seen any convincing evidence that they work. Mostly I think they’re just early-stage failed marriages.
Anyway, the point is, with marriage, you generally commit to not have sex with people other than the person you’re married to. For some people, this is not too hard. For lots and lots of others, it *is* hard. By the evidence of countless cases, sometimes it is impossibly hard.
What about veganism? Becoming a so-called vegan requires a commitment to not eat animal products. If you one day decide you’ll start eating animal products again, guess what, you don’t get to be a vegan anymore.
But aren’t there plenty of people -- married people and vegans -- who would like to keep being married, and/or keep being vegan, who also maybe sort of fuck up the commitment part?
Whoops I had an affair. I’m really sorry. I really truly am. It was the dumbest thing, and I very much wish I hadn’t, and I promise I’ll never do it again... Can we please stay married?
Whoops I ate some ice cream. It had been so long! But now I feel terrible. I shouldn’t have done it. It wasn’t worth it. I feel so stupid. I’ll be better! Can I still be a vegan, please?
OK let’s take it down a notch.
I’ve made a commitment to go jogging every morning. How many mornings of waking up too late or too lazy does it take before I’m not allowed to call myself a jogger anymore?
Is it...is it once?
I guess it’s time to talk about The Notebook Rule again.
Here I am with a commitment to keep this rule for one year:
Before any interaction with a screen, I write down, in a notebook, what I intend to do. Then, as soon as I’m done doing that thing, I walk away (close the laptop, put the phone down, literally walk away, etc).
Meticulously considered, passionately embraced, publicly announced.
Explained with oblivious enthusiasm in countless follow-up conversations.
Rigidly observed.
...
…most of the time.
Perhaps you will not be surprised to learn that I have not kept The Notebook Rule 100% of the time, in 100% of all possible situations.
You may even hear with sympathy my confession that there have been several occasions of serious, hours-long backsliding into passive digital dope consumption (YouTube, Netflix, THE INTERNET, etc), and whole afternoons of fevered workaholism with absolutely no boundaries to keep me sane (like stepping away from my computer between tasks).
But I made a commitment!
OK.
Remind me, again, what a commitment is?
There’s a movie I used to love way more than it deserved called Keeping the Faith, about a Catholic priest (Ed Norton) and a Jewish rabbi (Ben Stiller) who both fall in love with the same woman.
At one point, an older priest tells Ed Norton a story about falling in love with a woman as a young man, not long after he had first taken his vows. At the end of the story, he says something that has stuck with me for almost twenty years:
The truth is, you can never tell yourself that there is only one thing you could be. If you’re a priest, or if you marry a woman, it’s the same challenge: You cannot make a real commitment unless you accept that it’s a choice that you keep making again and again and again.
Guys I think that deserves a pull quote.
You cannot make a real commitment unless you accept that it’s a choice that you keep making again and again and again.
In the time since that bit of wisdom from an obscure good-but-not-great movie started knocking around my brain on repeat, I’ve learned that the substance of a person’s faithfulness to any particular commitment is quantified by the number of times they have chosen to keep it, against the number of times they have chosen to break it.
100% is a nice goal, but you’d be surprised how often 60/40 does the trick.
As a married man with kids, who grew up religious and decided to stay that way, I’ve made a lot of lifelong commitments. Enough that I would have real trouble listing them all. And from that list, I can’t think of many that I’ve kept 100% of the time. I haven’t had an affair! There’s one, at least.
In younger years, the chokehold of perfectionism convinced me to abandon lots of commitments when I failed to keep them perfectly. But as I careen absurdly into midlife4, I begin to understand that the commitments that matter most are those I have chosen to keep most often.
Character by Vote
In the end, commitments win democratically — by majority vote.
I can’t recast any of yesterday’s votes, but I’ve got a bunch of fresh ones to cast today.
Speaking of which, I’m still committed to The Notebook Rule. And as many times as I’ve made the choice, for whatever reason, and in whatever circumstance, to break the Rule, I’ve made the choice to keep it way more times.
I mean it’s not even close.
So if it’s up for a vote, my commitment to The Notebook Rule wins by a landslide.
Help me get out the vote
I strongly suspect that only the power of community, of authentic human connection, is strong enough to save us from the robust and relentless efforts of the digital dope pushers.
Me, three weeks ago
I was truly astounded by the number of people who voiced support for this project, for this commitment.
And though you might not have realized it at the time, you just inducted yourself into my community. Congratulations!
As a token of my sincere5 appreciation for you, and because it’s frankly damn good content, I’d like to share some of your feedback, along with my responses (provided they are clever enough to make me look good).
But first, I invite you to spin more gold for me:
What are some commitments that you think really aren’t worth anything unless they get 100% of the vote?
Have you tried out The Notebook Rule yet? How’s it going??
Why do they say bird’s have hollow bones? If we looked inside would it just be air, or is there magic bird water in there? Or blood? Or are we calling bird blood magic bird water now? I think we might be.6
What follow-up questions do you have for me? I love answering questions. If I could make a career out of just answering questions, I might.
You’re so great. I mean it.
Your Based Comments
(from The Notebook Rule)
My new commitment this year is in reclaiming my mornings. I'm getting up at 5:30 every morning with my husband. He goes to the gym. I do yoga and then free write (yes, on my computer, but I open a single document. No browsers.) until I need to get my kids up. I get them breakfast, make their lunches, and get them off to school. I do all of this before I touch my phone.
Prior to adopting this very new routine, I would check my phone constantly for notifications. Walk across my bedroom to claim it the minute I woke up in the morning. Walk across my bedroom to check it any time I woke up in the middle of the night. UTTER MADNESS!!!
I'm already noticing an improvement in my human levels with this small change.
Ha! I can quit anytime I like! It’s easy! I’ll show you ...as soon as I’m done watching this TikTok of a guy chopping wood...
—
Me: oh oh send me a link
I had two major problems, now just one. The first problem was arguing with people online. I gave that up a long time ago and it's been a huge improvement. My rule, which I nearly always follow, is to interact with people online to agree, not to disagree. It's made me a better person and citizen.
But the other major problem hasn't gone away. And that's my craving for distraction. I scroll reddit, the news, substack. These things aren't bad, but I read way too much of them and that's bad. I have no idea how to manage it. I stop in bursts, or try to be more intentional, but before I know it I'm back to endless scrolling late at night.
—
Me: Yeah, I'm discovering that the problem isn't "bad" behaviors on the internet (although there's certainly plenty of that), but rather just compulsive behavior in general. Stuff that is objectively fine, or even great!, can still ruin your life when you lose control over when and how much to do it. And it's been my experience that almost every digitally mediated thing has been designed to twist into an addiction as soon as possible.
My poor nervous system is fried by the effects of trying to build a tiny business towards the end of the 2010s, and all the social media use that seemed to need.
No more.
I am here on Substack, and here only now. I deleted all my business and personal Facebook and Instagram accounts in January last year. Best move ever!
—
Me: Yeah, I think the commonly accepted necessity of social media for starting and running businesses is starting to shift. In the ongoing war for attention, the things that win the most important battles, and actually keep ground, will be quieter and more sophisticated. Everyone is starting to realize that only authentic connection is valuable for more than 15 seconds. Everything else is noise.
I borrowed a friend’s Gameboy, played a truly insane amount of Tetris, and then had a vivid auditory hallucination after I turned the machine off.
I could still hear the Tetris music.
I don’t mean “hearing” it in my mind’s ear like when you get a song stuck in your head. No. I heard a real sound coming from the device, even though it was turned off.
I gave up Tetris after that. But I have been addicted to various games off and on over the years. And I am definitely addicted to scrolling for information
—
Me: "...addicted to scrolling for information" -- ever learning and never coming to a knowledge of the truth.
I grew up believing that one of the highest human virtues is curiosity, and I still believe it is, but the so-called Information Age has corrupted it into a vice. How many times has my own curiosity led me down wikipedia rabbit holes, only to suffer from near total amnesia on the other side?
One thing I’ve noticed doing that raises red flags for my own media misuse is what Instagram has become. I’m not going to delete it. What I’m into could and should be healthy: I love & save a ton of cool stuff artsy people paint, sew, sculpt, etc. Everyday. Mornings. Throughout the day. When I can’t sleep...I scroll, “save,” & briefly think about so much cool stuff...But, I DO very little of it!
It should be a fabulous resource, not an end unto itself. As a baby boomer, I really can’t afford to waste the time left to me for producing!
I’ve never had my phone by my bed. Thank goodness!
But, while I stopped using Fb, IG a couple of years ago, I kept my accounts. I started on Substack almost a year ago. I realized a few months ago the dopamine hits from checking and being on here were mirroring why I went off the other apps. So, I am consciously making an effort to come online (here) on Thursdays when I post and a day ish after to engage with people on the post.
Then I catch up on my reading here on Saturday or Sunday.
Anything more and I know I’m in addicted land.
Example, I have started the stove to heat a pan, came over to check my substack “quickly” and then burned the bejeesus out of my pan (two now if I’m being honest). So, I’m on a digital diet.
I like your idea about the notebook.
—
Me: Yeah, Substack is the current siren song. So far, I feel good about the boundaries I've set -- I rarely go onto the app, and try to batch my non-writing activities (like responding to comments!) But I know from exhaustive personal experience that it is a slippery slope.
I’m also challenging myself to write as much as I want, but to publish much shorter-- around 1000-1500 words max--so as not to keep readers scrolling for any longer than that. I’m trying not to add to the problem of informational obesity and screen addiction.
Great initiative and post- I also started tracking this as my infinite scrolling became incessant. I got to the point where I bought apps to stop me going on other apps?! Screens just became an avoidant behaviour where I need to didn't think.
Last year something switched where I commited to being a reader and writer. Nothing else was stopping me except time, and guess where my time was being spent? Right! I'm still on the path but having commitments to self, desk rules and tracking intent seems to be building up to some more consistent habits.
Generally it just seems if human beings become more intentional, everything we want to do basically lines up how we want. Curiousity, consistency, productivity.
I’ve been giving the notebook a go for a couple of days and it's already been enlightening/horrifying. It's quickly shown me that my approach to work is entirely erratic. Rather than dispassionately choosing the best course of action based on what needs to be done, I flutter between emails, Teams, to-do lists, open documents, basically looking for a hit. I’m like a moth repeatedly headbutting a light bulb.
Just as I thought deleting an app or some other idea would retrieve my agency, I'm now realising that perhaps I have a deeper addiction to needing a hit or a thrill from everything I do.
—
Me: "my approach to work is entirely erratic..." I feel all this so hard. And the moth/lightbulb is a great metaphor. I actually realized, a few days into this practice, that I had been battling this strange mix of anxiety and anticipation every time I approached my desk. It was an unholy mix of hunger for dopamine (new emails, notifications, etc) and fear that I'd fall into some kind of rabbit hole and get no real work done. The battle was so exhausting, but I didn't even realize it was happening until I took a real step back from it. And then, suddenly, I was so much less anxious about sitting down at my desk again. I could, if I wanted, just sit there. Think. Breathe. Maybe take out my notebook and jot down a thought or concern. Then, crucially, *decide* what I wanted/needed to do next.
I have been complaining about the digital dope boys in Silicon Valley for years. My whole family pretends that I'm a nutter for talking about it because they don't want to look at the biology behind it, nor do they want to admit it's a problem or work on their own behavior. I really hope more people start to catch on. We take our power back when we recapture our attention. If you're an older millenial at least we know how life is supposed to look without them and can CBT ourselves back to normality. We have to lead by example and realize we aren't users we're being used. The tech industry has known this for a long time. Their empire crumbles when we remember our humanity. Only necessary interaction. Timers. There are hacks you can use. Listening to music helps. Guard your mind and your dopamine.
I’ve been using an intervention app that does something similar to this and I’ve found it very helpful for reducing certain behaviors through friction, without leading to binging later (the app is called one sec but this is not a sponsored comment lol). But you’re right about other digital things easily filling the void, especially when validating interaction is involved--especially Substack notifications. Friction is enough to curtail my appetite for just scrolling on Instagram (which I was certainly easily swamped by before), but not for the twitchiness about people responding to my stuff. My time management is a bit better now but my brain is still reactive. I think that might require a bit more deep work on addressing underlying needs and letting go.
Also, any thoughts on how these tendencies interface with ADHD? I hyperfixated on things in the way you’re describing even before screens. But maybe digital media has hijacked the part of human cognition that’s pretty fundamental across the board.
—
Me: I'll check out that app! Although it's been my experience any digitally mediated solution tends to get drowned by the competition.
Substack notifications are definitely my most tempting compulsion right now. Especially since publishing this essay -- it's been a struggle not to get stuck in an endless loop of checking for new likes, comments, etc.
I think a lot of people who would otherwise not have any problem with ADHD think they do because, in actuality, they are addicted to digital dope. Addiction in general is severely corrosive to attention hygiene. And most of us are DEEPLY addicted to our screens. Hence: everyone thinks they have ADD.
I was in denial for a while till I started looking at my screen times on the phone. Insta and youtube videos are my rabbit hole(s). It all starts with something interesting I saw or was curious enough to search for and soon I am 50 tabs open and light years away from what I really wanted to know or do. I mostly end up watching reviews of products I don't need or care about. 2 rules that have helped - Not picking my phone for first hour after waking up and restricting the number tabs so as not to go on a wild hyperlink chase across the internet. Writing on a notepad before I write on the comp has also helped as notebooks don't have hyperlink options. Also, the feeling the feeling that i get when a (ink)pen travels on a piece of paper "flourishes my humanity" :)
—
Me: Amen to all of that. The Notebook Rule works so well for me partly because of the immense pleasure I get from the physical action of putting pen to paper. We are, at root, embodied creatures. Tangible rituals with analog tools can never be completely replaced by digital facsimiles -- there just isn't as much raw power in the ephemeral. Give me ink. Give me paper. Let me see my words bleed into the pulpy substrate. My hand and fingers crave the resistance of the pen as its tip drags across a clean white surface.
I want to get off this crazy merry-go-round of glowing squares. I feel like you’ve thrown me a life rope. I am doing The Notebook Rule.
I think this notebook idea could work, if only by slowing me down and forcing me to make a plan before getting online. My pitfall is having to pay bills or look up or research something important and legitimate, but then getting sidetracked — and bingo bango! hours have gone by. And Substack is another trap for me; must find a way to enjoy it within some boundaries.
—
Me: Bingo bango indeed. "Getting sidetracked" is the WHOLE POINT of most of the stuff on offer through our screens. It's like walking into a room filled with fishhooks.
Since the start of January, I’ve committed to no social media (except for Substack) for 90 days. And a digital sabbath every Sunday. I leave my phone behind.
3 weeks in and what I’ve noticed is I’m spending way more time on my phone the day or two leading up to the sabbath - and the day after. I think I need a notebook 🙃😉
If you made it this far, it probably means you’re either reading this on the app, or you clicked your clipped email to read the whole thing. Either way, you’ve earned the right to brag. I suggest leaving “MVR” in the comments. You and I will know that it means Most Valuable Reader, but it’ll baffle anyone who hasn’t earned the badge.
Either that or just “bingo bango,” which I think is my new favorite pair of words. Thank you
:)I mean, I do at least one very dumb thing every day, don’t get me wrong, but you can probably tell I’m teeing up something specific here.
I put this footnote here so that you don’t accidentally misread that is “comically”
For some of you, the header image suddenly makes sense. The rest of you are going to have to wait a minute or two.
What a weird word -- aren’t we always “in the middle” of life?
I know I can lay on the sarcasm pretty thick sometimes, but I do very much mean this.
No harm was done to any birds in the writing of these questions.
“I’m like a moth repeatedly headbutting a light bulb.”
My favourite analogy from all the various comments. So freaking true.
Much like yourself, I'm not sure I've slipped in my commitment to the Notebook rule, but instead I'm not always being honest in what my intention actually is. I write intentions like “check emails”, which is lazy, and worse, a lie. Yes, I might need to check my emails, but with the intention of getting a hit. And as I said before, what's horrifying to me, is that I look for distraction not just from apps or social media, but within work itself. I suddenly realised that “check emails” can actually be code for secretly hoping that someone had written something annoying to me, so I could get worked up about something and feel some adrenaline.
So the commitment remains, I'm happy to say, and I have been using the notebook every day, even with the many slips you've described. Even better, you have pushed me down a whole new avenue of thought. I'm now taking the threat of dopamine and addiction far more seriously. Have you ever read Dopamine Nation by Anna Lembke? It's a fun read about addiction and dopamine pathways and the dangers facing all of us. But I feel like some of the things she talks about in the book are things you've touched on here. So for example, she talks about the importance of radical honesty to help keep you off addiction (which I think your notebook rule definitely helps with) but she also talks about how commitment within a group can help people keep each other on track. So, thanks, in other words!