Consumption In Review
The Field Review: TFR-052
Today’s issue is number fifty-two, marking one full calendar year since starting The Field Review.
Over the last fifty-two weeks I’ve spent a lot of time thinking, reading, and writing about my thoughts on life, work and the outdoors. If you’re a regular reader of TFR, you have probably noticed some semi-consistent themes of intention, authenticity and simplicity week-to-week.
If I had to identify one core goal I’ve developed over the last year, it would be on my consumption, specifically what I let into my life and why.
I’m not talking about the important stuff like work or family, and I’m not talking about traditional consumption through the process of reading a book or gaining life experience. I’m talking about the activities that chip away at your attention day after day and create more forgettable space between memorable moments.
I’m talking about noise.
When I first started writing The Field Review, I stumbled into an idea of developing a “personal strategy”. A code system of values and beliefs to help guide you through daily life.
At the time, I didn’t have a clear answer on what my personal strategy was. I still don’t have it fully nailed down. But I’m starting to believe that whatever strategy you build, whatever compass you use to move through this life, you have to start by first looking at your consumption.
What you allow in. And more importantly, what you choose to filter out.
If you don’t take control of what’s coming in, it’s almost impossible to know where your attention is going, and identify what you actually believe in.
I saw someone jokingly share this post on social media last year, and I remember thinking about how accurate it really was. In just a short three hundred thousand years, our opposable thumbs went from gripping spears to typing prompts in ChatGPT.
Intentionality went out the window when we were granted instantaneous access to every piece of information that has ever informed. Why spend time listening to both sides of a record when you can play any song ever recorded within three thumb movements. Why crack open a real book when AI can summarize it for you in 15 seconds.
Why do anything with intention when intention only gives you what you need instead of what you want.
Our human brains were not designed for this. Not for the volume and not for the speed. That’s not to say that we can’t handle this information overload, but I don’t believe anyone ever expected this much stimuli to reach our frontal cortex at the constant velocity in which we receive it.
The numbers alone are staggering. In 2024, there were 5.9 million Google searches PER MINUTE, YouTube viewers watched 43 years of content PER MINUTE, there were 18.8 million texts sent PER MINUTE, and 4,080 records compromised in data breaches PER MINUTE.
That’s not information. That’s called noise.
We each carry a personal sensory slot machine in our pockets that we look at “for a break” in between staring at the other screen with an attached keyboard at our desk for eight hours a day. Then we come home and stare at an even bigger one attached to the wall. We go to bed looking at flashing lights and moving pictures, only to wake up to digital sirens, vibrations and more noise to start our day.
I couldn’t wait to get my teenage paws on my first iPhone. Now, I wish I could chuck my 15th iPhone off a cliff never to be found again.
If you need me, mail me.
In the middle of it all, I work in brand marketing. My job often leads me to strategize how to add more volume to the content tsunami people are already consuming.
I try to be thoughtful with what I recommend brands put into the world. Responsibility to put people first is a perk of working within the health and wellness industry that many other marketers don’t get to benefit from.
But the truth is, most content isn’t built to serve. It’s built to sway. To push. To flood and block your senses until you forget what you were trying to do in the first place.
Mainstream media, influencers, and brands all weave their own biases and opinions into their content for different purpose. Vote a certain way, act a certain way, buy certain things.
Sometimes it’s subliminal, sometimes its obvious. Most of the time its a sponsored lie. Scare tactics to drive a response.
More information doesn’t make you smarter. More money doesn’t make you richer. More time online doesn’t make you more informed.
As most of us already know, living well is rarely about adding more.
Living Radically
I’m borrowing an idea from one of my favorite writers on Substack, .
The idea of “living radically.”
When I say I want to live a radical life, I don’t envision living in a mansion with a tennis court. I don’t imagine a corner office in a skyrise building downtown. I don’t imagine driving an Aston Martin through the cliffs of the Amalfi Coast (okay, maybe I do imagine that one).
In the information age we find ourselves in, living radically now represents doing the things that most people aren’t doing anymore. Those things might seem mundane, but they matter.
To be a “radical” means being fully intentional with your time and attention.
It could include watching a sunset from start to finish. Making something with your hands. Being present in every moment without the constant itch to check a notification.
Living radically in today’s world really just means appreciating the basics of life.
—
My wife and I are expecting our first child in August. A son.
The closer we get to that day, the more I think about how I want him to experience this world in his early years. I can only imagine how technology will evolve over the course of his lifetime as it has evolved over mine, and I would prefer that his early learning not come from an endless feed of informational noise on a screen.
Rather than giving our child raw information to decipher on his own, I hope that we can filter that information through a collection of real things. Lessons. Memories. Traditions. Stories.
Not just facts. Not just data on right and wrong. Real life experience.
That routine starts with how we live now, not just how we plan to parent later. No part of me would rather scroll an algorithmic feed, than feed our child with love, support, and memories for a lifetime that will outlast mine.
If you want to parent radically, you have to think radically. And if you want to think radically, you have to live radically.
If I don’t take control of what I consume, if I can’t pull my eyes away from the firehose, I’m not just doing damage to myself anymore. I’m laying the foundation for how my son will intake information.
How we live is the automatic baseline for how he lives.
If I’m always staring at a screen, scrolling, distracted, scattered, chasing noise, then what am I teaching him? That this is normal? That this is what adulthood looks like?
No, thanks.
I want to give him something better to model. I never want to worry about finding a phone charger again because I’ll be too busy being plugged in to real life.
My goal will never be to be perfect, but I will be present.
The One-Year Mark
As I mentioned up top, today marks one full year of writing The Field Review.
Fifty-two weeks. Fifty-two issues.
Some of them came easily, most of them didn’t… but every week I sat down and attempted to write something I believed was worth sharing, even if I wasn’t always sure what I was trying to say.
The description for The Field Review is “The Newsletter to Help You Figure It Out”, and that line has become a north star for me each week. It has also helped me refine my voice and perspective. I don’t start with answers. I start with a question I’m thinking about, and work through it in real time here, bringing you along with me.
Most weeks, I forget there are real people on the other side of the “publish” button.
I will always write these for myself first, but every so often someone will reply or share a post that reminds me I’m not the only one working through these same questions.
Those reminders means a lot.
So whether you’ve been reading from the start or just signed up, thank you. I don’t take your time or attention lightly and hope that you find some value in these weekly issues.
At the end of the day, The Field Review has never been about having the answers. It’s about getting better at asking the right questions.
Here’s to year two.
Jack
From The Field Review Archives:
The Field Review is a space for exploring the intersection of work, life, and the great outdoors. It’s about figuring ‘it’ out—whatever your ‘it’ might be.
Every Sunday at 10AM EST, I share ideas, insights, and conversations that help break through the noise, offering a real look at how we can all keep moving forward.
If you have any thoughts, questions, or topics you'd like me to explore in future newsletters, feel free to reach out!
Venture Onward,
Jack
Powerful perspective Jack! I am a filmmaker and have come to similar conclusions within my work. I even made a piece titled “consumed” about this very topic a while back. Would love to share it with you sometime!
Cheers to fighting the good fight. Storytelling will continue to shape our world but in this age the discipline we exercise in our consumption will determine the health of our lives.
Awesome stuff, Jack. Think you’re looking at this next adventure perfectly. Excited to see where it goes (and truly appreciate the shout!)!