Dear GM,
How much is your attention worth?
Trillion-dollar companies exist for one reason: capturing human attention. Advertisers pay fortunes for it. Investors track "time on site" like it's gold.
The market has priced attention as one of the most valuable resources on earth.
So why do most of us spend ours like loose change?
You can see it everywhere. People scattered across tabs. Managers listening while composing their reply. Conversations with phones face-up on the table.
Present, but only technically.
The asymmetry is worth sitting with. Billions flow into engineering systems that capture more attention. Algorithms learn what keeps each person engaged, what to surface, when to notify, how to pull them back.
Meanwhile, the attention we give to one another remains artless. Incidental. Often an afterthought.
Think about what it feels like to receive someone's complete attention. No phone glance. No mental multitasking. Full, unhurried focus on you.
It's rare enough now that when it happens, it lands. You feel heard. What you're saying matters. There's a reason we call it "giving" someone our attention. It's a gift, and one that hits home.
The research backs this up. When people feel attended to, they bring more of themselves to the work. When they don't, they seek attention elsewhere, usually from the device in their pocket.
This isn't about policing screen time. It's about recognising a dynamic.
People seek escape when they feel unclear, unheard, or overlooked. The conditions matter here. Clarity of direction matters. Feeling heard matters. Being seen as a whole person, not a function, matters. These aren't soft concerns. They're the conditions under which attention stays present rather than seeking escape.
But here is the kicker: where you invest attention shapes what grows.
The hours absorbed by platforms are hours unavailable for the people in front of you. For the craft you're building. For relationships you say matter. This isn't moral judgment. It's allocation. Sustained focus is how anything meaningful gets built.
The opportunity is straightforward. When someone asks for your time, they're signaling something. Your perspective matters to them. Three shifts make a difference:
Phone in drawer, not on desk
Listen without rushing to solve
Respond only after they've finished
Not heroic acts. But in a world where fragmented attention is normal, they register as meaningful.
Attention is a scarce resource. Organisations that manage it well keep people present, and the advantage compounds.
Not because attention is magic.
But because it's the medium through which everything else happens.
