We are rightfully wary of supernormal stimuli. We see it in the hyper-palatable junk food that hijacks our evolutionary cravings, the endless scroll of social media that preys on our social validation circuits, and the “dark flow” of video games that offers achievement without substance. We build defenses against these obvious traps.
But what if one of the most potent superstimuli is disguised as the very shield we use to protect ourselves? What if the entire ecosystem of “productivity” is a superstimulus?
Consider the parallels:
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Hacking the Signal: The original, healthy signal is the satisfaction of deep, meaningful work. The productivity metagame hacks this signal. It replaces the reward of doing the work with the reward of optimizing the system for the work. The dopamine hit comes not from solving a hard problem, but from discovering a new shortcut, installing a new app, or perfectly organizing a to-do list. It’s the mental equivalent of a cereal bar—all the flavor of accomplishment with none of the nutritional value.
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The Illusion of Control: The “Hannibalistic” drive to build a perfect “memory palace”—a system of total control—is a powerful one. Productivity systems promise this control. They offer a sense of order in the face of chaos. Yet, like the gambler in a state of dark flow, we are not truly in control. We are reacting to the system’s inputs: the notifications, the badges, the satisfaction of a checked box. The system itself, not our own intrinsic motivation, begins to dictate our actions.
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Randomness and Novelty: The search for the perfect productivity system is addictive in the same way a slot machine is. There is always a new app, a new methodology, a new “life hack” promising a jackpot of efficiency. This constant novelty keeps us engaged, pulling the lever again and again, hoping the next pull will be the one that finally solves everything. We spend more time sharpening the axe than cutting the tree.
The ultimate paradox is that the relentless pursuit of efficiency can make us profoundly ineffective. It becomes a form of sophisticated procrastination. We are so busy building the perfect ship that we never leave the harbor.
This connects to the principle of Via Negativa. We believe progress comes from addition—a new app, a new system. But perhaps true productivity comes from subtraction. Not just removing distractions, but removing the very systems we’ve built to manage them.
What if the most productive thing one can do is to occasionally stop trying to be productive? To close the apps, ignore the shortcuts, and simply sit with the messy, unoptimized, and difficult task at hand. To trade the illusion of speed for the reality of depth.
The real challenge isn’t just to avoid the obvious superstimuli of the external world, but also the subtle ones we build inside our own minds.