The lost art of doing nothing

I recently found myself pondering the value of boredom in our modern world. As I sat at a departure gate, surrounded by silence, I observed people engrossed in their own digital worlds. A man watched a football match without sound, a teenager laughed at unheard jokes, and a young couple scrolled through separate screens. It struck me that we had all disembarked before the plane even reached cruising altitude.

In the past, flying offered a respite from constant connectivity. The world had to wait until the doors opened, but now the Wi-Fi has crept onto flights. Even when it's absent, most of us carry enough downloaded entertainment to circle the planet twice. The protagonist of this story is a UAE-based communications consultant who has noticed this shift in behavior.

He notes that while we have access to more media than ever, finding a moment of stillness has become increasingly difficult. Reed Hastings, co-founder of Netflix, once said that sleep is the company's real competitor. While this may be a clever business strategy, it highlights the extent to which we prioritize connectivity over rest.

The author argues that boredom, a human need to disconnect, has been pushed aside by screens. Sleep, at least, provides a brief respite from the constant stimulation. However, boredom itself often goes unnoticed. In the past, long journeys allowed for quiet observation of the passing landscape. People would gaze out windows, noticing passing houses, farmers, children, and cyclists.

These experiences left a lasting impression, unlike the films watched high above the clouds. The author believes that technology isn't the culprit for our collective inability to be bored. Instead, it is society's obsession with staying constantly engaged. He worries that we've forgotten how to embrace the quiet moments of introspection and wonder.

As he prepares for his next flight, he considers leaving his headphones behind and simply looking out the window, hoping to encounter that cyclist once again.