The Age of New-Age ADHD: Why Can’t We Just Sit Down and Watch the Damn Show? By: A Distracted Human

Let me paint a picture for you.

You’re watching a TV show—well, you’re trying to. You press play. Someone on the screen starts talking about something important—plot, murder, betrayal, whatever. Ten seconds in, you’re reaching for your phone…

Just a quick check. Maybe someone emailed you. They didn’t. But now you’re in your inbox anyway. Then your friend WhatsApp’s you. Then you remember you never finished that online Uncle Jeff (Amazon) order. Pause TV. Back to phone. Stand up. Potter around. Sit back down. Play TV, change channel. Missed something? Rewind. Get up again. Snack. Back to phone. Play TV. Are we even watching TV anymore, or just occasionally glancing at it while doing literally everything else?

If this sounds familiar, congratulations—you might be living in the Age of New-Age ADHD.

Now, before the medically inclined grab their diagnostic manuals and the spiritually inclined reach for their healing crystals, let’s clarify: I’m not talking about clinically diagnosed ADHD here (which is real and serious and deserves respect). I’m talking about something more... ambient. Something culturally contagious. A sort of lifestyle-induced attention spaghetti, where our minds boil over into fifteen pots at once and never finish cooking any of them.

We used to be bored. Remember boredom? It was great! It led to creativity, daydreaming, weird hobbies like building model ships inside glass bottles. Now boredom feels like an allergic reaction—we break out in scrolls.

Go to a restaurant. Look around. Everyone’s talking... to someone not at the table. Or not talking at all—just staring at their phones, occasionally grunting in acknowledgment when the food arrives. Try having a focused conversation and someone will inevitably break eye contact to reply to a message from their cousin in a different time zone about a TikTok of a cat sneezing in reverse.

What happened to us?

Here’s a theory: we’ve trained ourselves out of presence. Attention has become a currency—and we’re broke. The internet told us we could do everything, all the time, with everyone, from anywhere. And so we try. But our brains? They’re still very much analogue in a high-speed broadband world.

We are now a generation of mental tab-hoppers. Thoughts buffering. Minds on autoplay.

And sure, we could blame phones. Or streaming. Or Elon Musk. But the truth is, this isn’t just about devices. It’s about discomfort. Stillness feels unnatural now. Silence feels threatening. We don’t know how to sit with ourselves—or with each other—without reaching for some kind of digital pacifier.

So maybe the solution isn’t to ditch all the tech and go live in the bush (though honestly, not the worst idea). Maybe it’s smaller than that. Maybe it’s about reclaiming little islands of presence. Watching a show—from start to finish. One show. Not seven episodes while folding laundry, ordering dinner via Uber Eats, arguing in a group chat, and googling “can cats get married.”

Maybe it’s about learning to be okay with doing just one thing.

Weird, I know. But kind of exciting.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to sit down, breathe, and...

Wait, was that a notification?

Dammit.

Comments welcomed, as always!

MC