Attention, Entrainment, and the Quiet Cost of Connection
~ Written January 10, 2026. Reflections on short-form media, attention, and the spiritual cost of mediated connection in a post-COVID world.
There is a particular sensation that has become increasingly familiar in recent years, the feeling that certain ideas are everywhere. They are not debated or carefully examined, but simply present… ambient, repeated, unavoidable. Over time, they begin to feel universal, inevitable, even self-evident.
When immersed in social media long enough, these ideas take on the weight of reality itself. They begin to feel like the world as it actually is, rather than a narrow slice of it repeated at speed.
And yet, when I step away… when I return to my own life, to the real world around me, to nature and unmediated human presence… something quiet remarkable happens. The bleakness dissolves and the sharp edges soften. Humanity reveals itself as far more nuanced, generous, and quietly beautiful than the emotional overtone I had been living inside online.
This contrast is not imagined. It is instructive, pointing to something fundamental about how perception is shaped by environment.
Entrainment, Not Persuasion
What is happening here is not primarily persuasion, but entrainment. Entrainment does not require belief; it requires only exposure. The nervous system responds long before the intellect weighs in.
Long before smartphones and social platforms, psychologists and neuroscientists studied how the human nervous system responds to sensory overload, repetition, and unresolved stimulation. Under sustained activation, discernment weakens… not because intelligence disappears, but because the brain shifts from reflective awareness into pattern recognition and survival-level processing.
What is repeated becomes familiar, what is familiar becomes safe, and what feels safe begins to feel true. In biology and physics, this process is known as entrainment… the natural synchronization of systems to shared rhythm, much like one tuning fork quietly bringing another into vibration.
Short-form media did not invent these mechanisms. It refined them, scaled them, and embedded them into daily life.
The Nervous System as the Medium
Rapid visual cuts, layered audio, text overlays, abrupt emotional shifts, and narratives that end just before resolution do not invite contemplation. They hold attention through interruption, keeping the nervous system alert while denying it rest. Stimulation continues without integration.
One can spend hours “engaged” and yet feel strangely hollow afterward, as though nothing has truly landed. The system is not designed to bring the nervous system to rest, but to keep it slightly activated… always leaning forward.
Short-form media does not primarily communicate ideas; it conditions pace, emotion, and attention. The body learns the rhythm long before the mind forms an opinion.
Over time, certain emotional tones rise repeatedly… urgency, outrage, despair, certainty, moral superiority. These states travel efficiently through screens, while calm, stillness, and depth do not.
This is why prolonged immersion often leaves a residue… a subtle anxiety or heaviness that lingers even after logging off. The nervous system has been trained to stay “on.”
Attention Is Not Neutral
Every contemplative tradition has understood something modern culture is now rediscovering through contrast: attention is not neutral. Where attention rests, identity begins to form.
When attention is fragmented, presence thins, stillness becomes uncomfortable, and silence feels empty rather than alive. Depth gives way to immediacy, and reflection is crowded out by reaction.
The soul is not harmed by this process, but it is drowned out. The danger is not mind control, but forgetfulness… forgetting how to remain present long enough to recognize what is real.
COVID and the Acceleration of Mediated Belonging
The timing of all this matters. The explosive rise of short-form platforms during and after COVID did not occur in a vacuum.
During lockdowns, humans were deprived of regulating touch, shared rhythm, and embodied presence. Anxiety rose, time blurred, and isolation became normalized.
Into that relational vacuum came an alternative form of connection… faces instead of walls, voices instead of silence, humor instead of dread, shared moments instead of loneliness. This was not merely entertainment; it was relief.
And relief bonds. What arrived as emergency scaffolding quietly became a primary site of connection, with algorithms acting as gatekeepers of visibility, rhythm, and emotional tone.
When physical restrictions lifted, the psychological migration remained.
Real Humans in Unstable Containers
This is where simplistic narratives fail. People do not return to these platforms merely because they are addictive.
They return because there are real humans there… kind, sincere, creative, vulnerable people with whom genuine bonds have formed. The relationships themselves are not false.
The container, however, is unstable. Community, audience, intimacy, identity, and meaning have been collapsed into a single interface, and humans were never meant to carry that much relational weight through one narrow channel.
The result is confusion… gratitude braided with depletion, connection braided with loss. Walking away can feel less like discipline and more like abandonment.
When Perception Widens
And yet, when one steps away long enough to recalibrate, the contrast becomes unmistakable. Online life is an emotional environment, while offline life is a relational one.
In lived reality, people are complex. Kindness appears without performance, disagreement lacks spectacle, and beauty requires no amplification.
The world does not suddenly become better when one logs off; perception widens. What once felt “everywhere” reveals itself as narrow and repetitive.
Responsibility Without Rejection
The answer is not rejection of technology, nor nostalgia for a pre-digital past. The answer is conscious relationship.
Spiritually mature engagement looks like choosing depth over volume, limiting timing rather than severing bonds, noticing emotional activation without obeying it, and protecting stillness as sacred ground.
Presence does not require constant availability, and depth does not require constant contact. The most subversive act in the modern attention economy is not rebellion, but presence.
Presence cannot be conditioned, cannot be rushed, and cannot be monetized at scale. And that is why it still works.
Closing Reflection
What many are feeling now is not alienation from the world, but a return to it. The beauty rediscovered away from screens is not naïveté; it is what has always been here when attention is allowed to settle.
The systems we inhabit are powerful, but they are not ultimate. Awareness loosens loops, stillness restores proportion, and reality, when met directly, remains far kinder than the stories told about it.
And that remembering… quiet, unglamorous, deeply human… may be the most important work of our time.
~ Shambo
References & Further Reading
- Daniel Kahneman, Thinking, Fast and Slow –
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/11468377-thinking-fast-and-slow - Nicholas Carr, The Shallows: What the Internet Is Doing to Our Brains –
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/9778945-the-shallows - Shoshana Zuboff, The Age of Surveillance Capitalism –
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/26195941-the-age-of-surveillance-capitalism - Stephen Porges, The Polyvagal Theory –
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/20492693-the-polyvagal-theory - Neil Postman, Amusing Ourselves to Death –
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/74034.Amusing_Ourselves_to_Death - Center for Humane Technology –
https://www.humanetech.com - Resonance (Physics), Wikipedia –
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Resonance
- Daniel Kahneman, Thinking, Fast and Slow –
Shambo
Shambo ~ Mark D. Hulett is a writer and contemplative voice from South Georgia, where nature, long-term sobriety, and the teachings of nonduality have formed the ground of his life. Influenced by Christ, Ramana Maharshi, Nisargadatta Maharaj, and Dr. Wayne W. Dyer, his reflections speak from the heart — inviting readers and listeners into clarity, compassion, and quiet return to their own heart.