television

It’s Wednesday shortly after lunch. John stares blankly at the blinking cursor on the white screen before him. This report is due by Friday, but his mind has already taken the weekend, daydreaming about all manner of fun and revitalizing things.

He could invite Fred and his family for dinner. That’s always a blast! The weather also looks lovely this weekend — perfect for dusting off the old mountain bike and taking it for a spin on the trails a few miles from his home. Then there’s the copy of Sapiens Mary gave him for his birthday a couple of months back. It’s right up his ally and sure to rekindle those stimulating philosophical conversations they used to have.

Come Friday, John is late with the report. There were just too many distractions over the last couple of days. After a draining coffee-fueled cramming session, he manages to send out the email shortly before 5 p.m. It’s not exactly his best work, but at least it’s done.

As he fights through the Friday afternoon rush-hour traffic, he realizes he forgot to ask Fred whether the family is free for dinner tomorrow. Maybe he should call? Or maybe not. Fred probably already has plans.

The next morning, John extracts himself from bed at the usual late hour. By the time he has showered, had breakfast, and scrolled through the news feed on his phone, it’s already 11. The beautiful weekend weather arrived right on cue, and he remembers his mountain-biking ambitions. It’s already quite hot, though. Maybe tonight when it’s cooler. Or tomorrow morning.

OK, then it’s finally time to delve into Sapiens — right after a quick email check. As he opens his personal mailbox, his eye catches an ad showing that the new season of Cobra Kai just dropped on Netflix. Before even thinking about it, he clicks the link.

Around midnight on Sunday, John finally reaches the end of the rabbit hole as the credits start rolling on the last old Karate Kid movie. He feels deflated and stuffed all at the same time as he slowly clears away the empty pizza boxes responsible for the stuffing. The beautiful weekend is gone, and all he can think about are the things he didn’t get done (including the groceries).

He collapses into bed with a dejected sigh. It’s going to be a long week…

WTF Happened?

Does this story I so shamelessly paraphrased from Shawn Achor’s The Happiness Advantage sound familiar? It sure does for me.

John planned to fill his weekend with fun, laughter, sunshine, fresh air, and mental stimulation, leaving him revitalized for the week. Instead, he ended up numbing his mind with old movie reruns, stuffing his body with junk, and getting a demoralizing tongue lashing from his conscience.

In The Happiness Advantage, Achor cites research that found American teenagers 3x as likely to experience elevated enjoyment when engaging in sport or hobbies than when watching TV. And guess what, those same teenagers spent 4x as much time watching TV as they spent on sports and hobbies. I bet the numbers are even worse for adults who no longer benefit from organized sports and recreational school activities.

Other research from the book shows that passive leisure activities (stuff like vegging out in front of the TV, getting lost down the Netflix or YouTube rabbit hole, or scrolling through Facebook’s unique blend of silly cat videos, cliché memes, and filtered photographs of our friends’ perfect lives) are only enjoyable for about 30 minutes. After that, they start sapping our energy.

And here’s the kicker: The resulting “psychic entropy” leaves us listless and apathetic —perfect prey for the effortless and totally passive entertainment offered by the Instant Pleasure Industry.

Thus, we keep watching and scrolling (maybe pausing occasionally to order some junk food) even though we’re hardly enjoying it.

The amount of human potential, happiness, and health destroyed by this tragic cycle is incalculable. It needs to stop.

Here’s how.

The 20-Second Rule

The human mind is brilliant. It’s also surprisingly lazy. If an activity takes more than 20 seconds to initiate, it probably ain’t gonna happen.

This trait is shamelessly exploited by the Instant Pleasure Industry. Their services are often just a tap or two away, and consuming more content mostly involves no effort whatsoever (a few lazy swipes at most).

Luckily, we can shield ourselves from such humiliating exploitation by using the 20-second rule to our advantage:

1. Unsubscribe from any services likely to steal many hours of your time without making you feel energized and revitalized. Use RescueTime to block distractions that don’t need a subscription.
2. Hide your TV remote in the darkest corner of your most remote closet. Or, if you’re feeling really brave, get rid of the TV altogether.
3. Turn off all notifications on your phone and move any useful apps that often distract you into a folder on the last quick-access screen.

Sure, you’ve probably seen plenty of tips like these before. But have you acted on them and purged your life of quick-access distractions? No? Then, to quote Arnold Schwarzenegger (in the appropriate accent): Do it! Do it now!

You did it? Great! Now we can leverage the 20-second rule to redirect all this previously squandered time into more joyous activities:

1. Make sure your favorite hobbies are less than 20 seconds away: a guitar on a prominent stand in the living room, an interesting book on every open surface, a camera hanging right by the front door.
2. Pleasant physical activity should be just as easily accessible: Have a fun Zumba routine at your fingertips, make sure your sports equipment is in good condition, and, ideally, get nature in your backyard.
3. Set up healthy social activities the moment you think of them. Even better, set up recurring activities that will require effort to cancel.

These ideas from The Happiness Advantage resonate with James Clear’s Atomic Habits. Wholesome activities should be made obvious, attractive, easy, and satisfying. Unhealthy and distracting activities should be made invisible, unattractive, difficult, and unsatisfying.

It doesn’t take much effort to set up these changes. And once you do, your life is automatically set on a much more enlightened path.

Just ask John.

John’s Comeback

The following Wednesday, John finds himself in his weekend daydreams again. But the dream is rather patchy, constantly interrupted by the sting of utter failure from his previous attempt (and many more before it).

Then, in a flash of divine inspiration, he makes the pivotal move: He gets off his ass, marches straight to Fred’s office, and invites him over for dinner that weekend. Everything is settled about 20 seconds later: Fred will arrive at four to watch the game, with the family following later for dinner.

That Friday evening, John feels inspired. He gives his bike a quick service and leaves his cycling clothes on the floor next to his bed. Then, he tucks himself in at a reasonable hour to wake up naturally just before seven the next morning. As he swings out of bed, his foot hits his cycling shoe. With a still-groggy smile, he gets himself kitted up.

After enjoying a light breakfast in his cycling attire, he goes out into the cool morning air, mounts his well-oiled bike, and sets off to the mountain trails.

It’s been too long since his last trip, and he’s really huffing and puffing when he finally reaches the viewpoint that marks the top of the trail. But it’s totally worth it. The early morning scene over the city is beautiful, especially on the soundtrack provided by an enthusiastic bird chorus.

He spends a good 15 minutes drinking in the sights, sounds, and some refreshment from his water bottle. Then he jumps back on his bike and enjoys an exhilarating descent down the winding single-track trails.

When he gets home, he finds himself way more energized than he was when he set off. After a much-needed shower, he sets out on his grocery run to stock up for the week and to gather everything he needs to treat Fred and his family to a lovely dinner.

Following an early lunch, he gets cooking, another badly neglected passion of his. One satisfying hour later, the dinner’s in the oven, and John decides to finally dig his copy of Sapiens out of the bookshelf.

It takes him about 20 seconds to become fully engrossed in the book. What feels like five minutes later, the oven starts beeping, signaling that 45 minutes have passed and the food is ready. He hastily puts things in order and gets back to the book for another chapter before Fred arrives.

They enjoy a couple of beers under the ultimately losing effort of their team. Despite the close loss, both are in great spirits when Fred’s family arrives. The dinner is a fun affair with plenty of ego-boosting compliments to the chef.

The next morning, John, his bike, and Sapiens find themselves at the top of the trail once more. He settles down under a tree and covers a fascinating couple of chapters, after which he spontaneously pulls out his phone and sends Mary a text to thank her for the gift. A couple of texts later, they have a date for the following weekend.

That night, John falls asleep with a satisfied smile on his face. It’s going to be a good week…