The Psychological Impact of Digital Overload

After reading an early copy of the new book The Iconist and learning that it was getting buzz from some major authors and novel thinkers, I thought it would be fascinating to publish a blog on the psychology that drives the author’s thinking.

In The Iconist, author Jamie Mustard articulates the phenomenon of “dilution,” a pervasive psychological stressor of feeling that one’s voice (and value) is drowned out by the deluge of content in the world today. This is particularly salient for those of us whose success or failure is contingent on our ability to share our expertise.

Let’s dive into a thought-provoking conversation with author Jamie Mustard. The questions to follow are mine—and the answers are Jamie Mustard's responses.

What is the phenomenon of “dilution,” and how does this relate to feelings of personal invisibility?

Think about it like this: In the 1950s, you were hit with roughly 250 advertising messages a day, a large, but digestible number. Today, that number is closer to 10,000 to 15,000 messages a day. E-mail, WhatsApp, Facebook, Pinterest, Snapchat, Netflix, Prime Video, hundreds of cable channels, text messages, Hulu, and on and on.

Many of us are watching several shows at the same time. Twenty-four-hour messaging makes us feel like something is always left undone. Our cell phones are beeping and dinging all day, and many of us wake up every day to several emails that require a response. This is what digital overload looks and feels like.

At the same time, there are other people in society that we hope will pay attention to our work, our art, our ideas, our offerings to the world—and like us, these people are constantly distracted. We may not think about it consciously, but we can feel it. Most experts, when they write about this phenomenon, talk about it in terms of their own distraction. I am more concerned about what this does to the individual in a culture where scarcity of attention is the defining business and social challenge of our time.

My book, The Iconist: The Art and Science of Standing Out, is a solution for this. It is a dilution solution.

You have pointed out that this has huge implications for companies and organizations. What do you see as some of the personal psychological impacts of dilution?

The feeling of personal invisibility is related to what I call “dilution.” Because those we are trying to reach are so bombarded, we can feel deeply insignificant, like we can’t have the impact we hope, even when we bring forward the best of what we have to offer. This can cause anxiety, paralysis in taking action, dissatisfaction with life, escapism, even depression. I have found for Millennials and Generation Z, who have never known anything else, there can even be feeling of paranoia associated with dilution (in other words, feelings of invisibility).

I was watching Mindhunter on Netflix recently, and one of the motivations for killing was connected with a feeling of invisibility and wanting to matter. Being recognized for what we care about is one of the primary human drivers, and digital technology has made that much harder to achieve.

To what degree are we aware that we are being chronically subjected to this type of mundane environment stressor? Are there particular situations that might bring this into our awareness?

It’s become the water we swim in. But there are particular times, like when we are doing something like applying for a job or sending our portfolio to an art gallery when feelings of dilution can be especially acute.

Let’s go back 30 years again. If you were applying for a job in the classified ads, your resume might be competing with maybe 50 to 100 people. Today, because of digital technology, you are probably competing with more than a thousand or even ten thousand people. The statistics prove this. The truth is that out of a million applicants, less than 1 percent get hired.

Dilution is like a bass note in a musical composition. We mostly just feel it, but don’t really notice it. But when we are competing for something, we become profoundly aware of dilution and our own invisibility. As I said before, the psychological effects can be devastating.

Does awareness of the impact of dilution help us, or do you think it creates more anxiety and psychological anguish?

No, I actually think it reduces it. Once we are aware of it, we can begin to analyze it and find clever ways around it. Once we are aware that negative internal feelings are coming from a place that makes sense, we can do something about dilution. My book is a road map that can teach almost anyone to be seen and heard, by applying simple laws of human perception that are easily understood.

Can you link the concept of dilution to evolving social practices, like “phubbing” and “ghosting”—how might these behaviors be linked to and explained by your work?

Yes, because we can sense that with so much information hitting people, they, like us, cannot possibly be giving their full and focused attention to us. So, when we are ghosted or phubbed, the feelings of isolation are much more intense.

There have been significant studies on the effects of isolation and solitary confinement in prisons. There is a whole range of negative consequences on mental functioning, including panic, paranoia, aggression, and depression, and all of these can coalesce into destructive escapist behaviors and even addictions. I am not saying that being ghosted or ignored as a result of digital technology is akin to living in a supermax prison, but I am suggesting that the isolationism created by digital technology gives all of us, to some degree or another, a watered-down version of these symptoms.

How might modern-day practices like mindfulness have emerged as a counterpoint to the feeling of dilution?’

I think the massive surge of interest in mindfulness by people that 10 years ago would have considered it “fringy” is fascinating. I think that this explosion of interest in mindfulness could be a direct result of mass messaging overload.

Earlier this year, I spoke at a mindfulness event. I was shocked at the amount of high-level, generally conservative professionals who attended the conference. This suggests to me that people are desperate for a solution to the overload—my book raises awareness of the pervasive psychological impact that has not had a name to this point—dilution.

You have pointed to the work of psychologist Abraham Maslow and have argued that dilution prevents us from “self-actualizing.” How does this work?

Well, as you know, in Maslow’s hierarchy of needs, he shows a pyramid. At the bottom of the pyramid are basic things like food and shelter. As we get our needs for food and shelter met, we look to fulfill more subjective needs, like recognition and securing meaningful work.

When we are talking about "self-actualization" at the top of this pyramid of human needs, what we are talking about is having our internal drivers—the things we truly care about—to match our eternal life. In order to make a living doing the meaningful work that matters to us, we need to be able to get deep consideration and sustained attention from others. This has become an increasingly difficult thing to do, where others are chronically distracted—and some are suffering the effects of dilution themselves.

So, in order for us to actualize and live meaningful lives, human attention becomes the most important commodity. My work provides the road map to do that, and it is actually very simple once you are willing to accept that it is something you must do.

What do you see as the solution to dilution?

Using pop culture examples, history, research, and storytelling, my work shares a method for creating a monolithic, simple road sign to pull others into what drives each of us at the deepest level of meaning. The principles I share apply across fields, whether you happen to be a scientist, grant writer, professional, CEO, musician, painter, politician, or anything else you can think of. When you craft your sign based on the simple laws of perception, you grab attention as an irresistible, spontaneous human reaction.

Can you give a few examples of how blocks show up across various fields—such as art, music, and pop-cultural trends?

Sure, in visual art, a block, what I call a road sign in my book, is any monolithic image that you can process before you have a chance to think. Warhol and Van Gogh used this imagery to pull you into their technique. Monolithic, instantly comprehensible imagery always commands a look.

In music, this would be an overarching, sonically dominant, repetitive, nursery rhyme-like melody. Beethoven and Mozart used this the same way any successful pop artist does today.

In a speech, it can be in using an emotional, repetitive phrase, like Martin Luther King Jr.’s "I have a dream" or Winston Churchill’s iconic "We shall fight."

If you want to know how it applies to a professional or a leader, you will have to buy my book! If you can’t afford it, go on my website, send me an email, and ask me. I love to help people—I do it whenever I can—and it is why I wrote the book. I help people get seen—it’s what I do.

If a huge number of people were to start using blocks to get seen, could this lead to “dilution” in a higher-order way (making blocks part of the overwhelming stimuli that we are bombarded with)? Why or why not?

I love this question. The answer is, it still works if everybody does it. I remember in a Malcolm Gladwell interview on his book Outliers, he was asked about "redshirting" (holding your young kids back a year so that they will have an advantage over their peers in terms of social and brain development). He replied: Of course, it doesn’t work if everybody does it.

The Iconist and blocks are different. You have to imagine that no matter what you do, there are people looking for you. There are gallery owners looking for artists, companies looking for the right person to hire, industries looking for solutions in science and engineering, leaders want to motivate the teams they count on, all of us humans looking for solutions to live better lives.

In my book, you learn to represent yourself as an oversized road sign. Imagine the people whose attention would improve your life are driving down a highway, where they are being presented with thousands upon thousands of road signs. Imagine you, your music, your art, your design, your work, all that you do, is an exit sign. If you craft an exit sign that perfectly matches what the driver is looking for, and they can understand it before they have a chance to think, they will get off at your exit.

This works no matter how many signs there are because you are tapping into what the driver is already looking for. I explain how to craft that sign, no matter what you do, in my new book.