In an attention economy, every click is a civic act

When something grabs our attention, both the attention-grabber and the attention-giver are changed. In media, this has been summarized in phrases like, “No publicity is bad publicity,” since having one’s profile enhanced almost always creates more strategic opportunities. But it also changes the attention-giver, which you can see in the saying about consumption in general: “You are what you eat.” Neither party remains the same.

In our “attention economy,” this lesson is further amplified. Much of our lives now relate to screens — our ever-present, convenient, entertaining, productivity-enhancing companions. But we sometimes forget that they are also digital battlefields among countless actors for our swipes, clicks, and watch time. All of these just being metrics for measuring our attention itself — the means of exchange. We are allowed to enjoy the free social media and other content only because our attention is the commodity being sold.

It’s a perfectly logical and largely ethical way of running a digital economy, where our small free choices determine what realities rise and fall, but it does come with real civic responsibility. Here are three quick considerations for being wise about the worlds we create with our clicks.

Figures we focus on, rise

First, on its effects on our politics, the attention economy is not particularly motivated by pushing us to find real solutions to problems, directing us towards the people who will best lead us, or finding ways to settle ancient and delicate problems among communities. It’s motivated only by whether or not you look and interact.

Left-wing media who wanted anything but the rise of Donald Trump, thought that covering the beginning of his candidacy in 2015 and making controversies over every word they found objectionable would ruin his chances — and maybe even put the more viable GOP candidates in a bad position by forcing them to defend or denounce those statements. It didn’t work out quite how they expected, though. All the attention was simply “earned media,” as campaign managers call free coverage, and the rest is history.

In North Carolina, a similar thing happened with the candidacy of Mark Robinson to be the state’s governor. Other candidates that party insiders would have expected to top him in the the Republican primary faded into the background as Robinson got more and more attention on social media for controversial remarks and click-worthy speeches. His big personality, like Trump’s, was much better suited to the attention-economy and its attention-based politics. The Robinson example showed, however, that getting more clicks is a double-edged sword and attention doesn’t always lead to votes.

There are plenty of examples on all sides of this dynamic, showing that we create Frankenstein’s monsters of our worst nightmares just by paying careless attention. The right focusing on taking down Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez undoubtedly raised her profile too.

The instinct to fixate on ideas and figures we despise might have worked in more primitive times. If someone walked into the village and started saying things that conflicted with its moral standards, that person might find themselves run out of town, or worse. But now, an online mob formed to take such a person down often only makes them stronger.

This week, Carrie Boller — a Candace Owens fan (who had someone made it on President Trump’s religious freedom panel) — sidetracked the conversation by saying that Jews did not have a theological right to have a nation in Israel, based on her interpretation of Catholic teachings. The multiple Catholic clergy and theologians on the panel all disagreed with her, quoting popes and official documents. But, despite converting to the religion less than a year ago, she was unswayed.

Trump has since removed her from the panel. But all the debate and outrage over her points had a predictable effect online — it greatly raised her profile (including her social media profile on Twitter, which increased by over 60,000 and counting).

So, basically, it’s not always worth it to spend days making sure someone you think is crazy gets properly put in their place. You’re just paying your attention into their account.

Greater obligations

In addition to political effects, it’s important to consider the value of your attention with regard to your family and friends. Over the recent snow storms, there were long stretches of time where I was sitting in a room with my wife and three young kids. Kids also run on an attention economy. They constantly demand you to “watch this,” as they show you how high they can jump or how many times they can spin without falling over. They want you to read the same book to them… again. They want you to give them something to do because they have no toys (other than the giant pile of beeping, flashing ones relatives just donated at Christmas).

A lot of this time in the living room, I could feel the battle between the various devices and apps on one side, and my children on the other, all demanding my attention. And, while the social media videos might have people accomplishing greater feats of athleticism than my children’s jumping and spinning, I did my best to let my children win the battle, because while the obnoxious commentators online also demand my attention, my children are owed it. And if my attention has the power to grow someone’s stature and voice over time, much better for it to be theirs.

Personal well-being

Lastly, in addition to your responsibility to the political culture and your own family, there’s also a civic obligation to maintaining your own sanity and moral character, so you can contribute to (rather than tear down) those around you. And “doom-scrolling” news or “hate-watching” content of people you like to argue with can lead you down dark paths. Sometimes I think the image of Saruman in the Lord of the Rings is an appropriate one for many in the social media era.

The once-good wizard Saruman had a seeing stone, called a “palantir,” that he would use to spy on the dark lord Sauron and his kingdom of Mordor. Staring into this orb, hour after hour and day after day, for years, all the attention on the evil forces of the world first excited him, then led him to despair, then led him to conclude it was foolish to stand in the way of the inevitable, then to enthusiastically join Sauron’s mission. The residue of what he was paying attention to had a slow but real effect.

I’ve seen it happen to many major “content creators” online. They engage with dark forces out of curiosity, but then over time, they are changed by them, and even join them. Spending all day gazing at images of the worst humanity has to offer twists them into what they fear.

So with all the forces fighting for your time, consider that each click — who we pay our attention to — may be a civic act. Our families and friends are owed much of it, and with the rest of it, it’s far better to boost those who deserve a louder voice — politicians with integrity, trust-worthy businesses selling things of true value, commentators who are actually trying to advance the common good — than elevate voices those who shouldn’t be paid the least bit of attention.

“In an attention economy, every click is a civic act” was originally published on www.carolinajournal.com.