Creating Community in a Fragmented World
Haven’t stopped thinking about this section of Stolen Focus by Johann Hari since I read it
Stolen Focus has burrowed into my brain. Namely, the scientific evidence that reading fiction strengthens our empathy-building skills and that the same can also be said for watching extended, complex fictional TV series. I immediately thought of Severance but that might just be because I often do. Where empathy-building can’t be found however, is via short, fragmented content.
Short, fragmented content. The snackable kind that feels fun in the moment but beyond its addictive nature might also be stunting our empathy potential. The kind that every tech bro and their nan is racing to algorithmically amplify.
I wound-up working in marketing, much like any other creative-type with bills to pay. It’s a fascinating field where we prefer to leave our ethics at the door and dive into whatever-hyping and corporate lingo bingo. Like I said, we have bills to pay. Ten years ago it was elevating seamless omnichannel experiences and today it’s crafting relevant experiences for community or simply brandishing community as a buzzword. Lately, we especially like to talk about how the classic funnel no longer exists and how fragmented our marketing landscape is. And that’s what’s itching my brain.
Empathy is not built via fragmented content. All we do is create content for fragmented landscapes.
Take care what technologies you use, because your consciousness will, over time, come to be shaped like those technologies.
I am piecing together a puzzle that will last beyond my lifetime. Two truths co-existing and yet without the question of why? Why should we just accept this fragmented landscape? Why are we ok with this? Why don’t we want to stitch ourselves back together? Why is it ok to say ‘our fragmented landscape’ as a matter of fact and not as a problem to solve?
“We become what we behold. We shape our tools and then our tools shape us”
- Marshall McLuhan
The world is on fire, we all say to each other. Yes, but it’s not my job to put it out, lies in subtext. My job is to tell people there’s a fire and we’re toasting marshmallows. It’s what the people want.
But what would it take to change your mind? To look at the fire and say, you know what…it is my job to put this out. It is our collective responsibility.
On Defragmentation
So how do we piece ourselves back together? Here’s an idea…start with what still unites us, while we work on what we can immediately control. Baby steps.
The last bastions of unity are certifiably Sports (see: The Olympics and the streetwear-ification of running clubs) and nostalgia. And ideally if we could save them from netflix, spotify et al. we could count on those classic cultural pillars: movies and music (see: Kendrick vs. Drake) to stitch ourselves back together too. Since we’re all here on substack, the return of long-form written content is absolutely giving me hope that empathy builders still exist online. We’ll just need to get creative in how we weave our narratives throughout this disjointed space.
Not all hope is lost.
As Jasmine Bina writes we’re in the ‘early, clumsy attempts of a culture trying to reform itself’, which in my opinion is a pretty nice window of opportunity in which to decide what form future culture can take. My vote is to design a pro-introverted future.
Since article after article on how to survive an extroverted world hasn’t landed us in a utopian, united place, here I am, an expert introvert sharing 10 things to consider instead of accepting ‘that’s just the fragmented world we live in’.
Read often. Ideally fiction according to Stolen Focus. Strengthen that empathy.
Learn to collaborate. I think it’s too simple to say ‘collaborate!’ since decades of work have demonstrated that most of us weren’t taught how to collaborate beyond the dreaded ‘team project’ at uni. School might be over but we’re always learning.
Question your relationship with your phone. You don’t have to chuck it out immediately, but even just asking yourself if it’s healthy and maybe take a digital detox. The amount of time you can do is the amount of time you can do.
Write. There’s a reason morning pages exist in every single form of self-help literature. There is no better way to organise your fragmented thoughts.
Walk without content. No music, no podcasts, no audiobooks just full IRL immersion. Now wait for your brain to be flooded with new ideas. Dots connected.
Get curious. So it’s a fragmented landscape, and our empathy is built through complex, interwoven narratives. That sounds to me, like the start of an epic story of a campaign that could be created…
Entertain. I once read an old etiquette manual that insisted married couples had a responsibility to host singles parties. Outdated? Sure. But beyond the nuclear family, maybe it’s our very human duty to connect the likeminded. Work, life or otherwise.
Reconnect. Share something you read or wrote with someone you used to know. Say ‘I saw this and thought of you’ because everybody likes to be thought of.
Be a cheerleader. Lean into the cringe and commit to the bit. Like the piece, write the comment, share the post. Don’t give your energy to everyday outrage, give it to those building better. Make it accessible for others to join in.
Listen. There’s a relateable scene in Stolen Focus of two people talking at each other, essentially IRL reading status updates across a table. Less of that. Ask questions and generally be more Epictetus: “We have two ears and one mouth so that we can listen twice as much as we speak.” Stoicism wins once again.
The future isn't just some thing that happens to us by accident. It's something we're constantly creating, deliberately designing, choice by choice.
The path to defragmentation will be a messy, human process of reconnecting threads that technology and modern life have pulled apart. We're piecing together a puzzle that will extend beyond our lifetimes. Sounds challenging? Good.
This won't be an AI-powered automation, quietly running in the background. Defragmentation is an active choice to stitch our attention, relationships and creativity back together.
We don't have to toast marshmallows on this world on fire. We can be the ones who firehose it out.