Making Space to Think
Making Space to Think
"Beware the barrenness of a busy life."
— Socrates
I sometimes wonder whether boredom has become one of the most misunderstood experiences in modern life.
For much of human history, boredom was simply part of everyday existence. People waited. They travelled without constant entertainment. They sat quietly. They walked without headphones. They looked out train windows. Their minds wandered.
Today, we appear to have become remarkably efficient at ensuring that boredom rarely occurs.
A spare moment in a queue invites us to check our phones. A quiet commute becomes an opportunity to answer emails, listen to a podcast or consume another piece of content. Social media platforms compete for our attention, news cycles run continuously and artificial intelligence can now summarise articles, books and research papers within seconds.
Technology has undoubtedly delivered significant benefits. We have immediate access to information, ideas and perspectives that previous generations could only imagine. However, I sometimes question whether our increasing ability to consume information has come at the expense of our ability to reflect upon it.
We seem to be living in an age where information is abundant, yet thinking space is increasingly scarce.
The irony is that some of our most valuable insights rarely emerge while we are occupied consuming information. They often appear when we stop. During a walk. While driving. While gardening. In the shower. During moments when the mind is permitted to wander without a specific objective.
Occupational psychologist Dr Sandi Mann has explored the relationship between boredom and creativity, suggesting that boredom may encourage forms of daydreaming that support creative thinking and the generation of new ideas. Rather than being entirely negative, periods of reduced stimulation may create conditions that allow the mind to make connections that constant activity prevents.
This is not a particularly new idea. Many people have experienced the frustration of struggling with a problem for hours, only to discover that a solution appears later when their attention has shifted elsewhere. We often describe these moments as sudden insights, but perhaps they are simply examples of the mind continuing its work once it has been given sufficient space to do so.
That thought also made me reflect on some of the current conversations around psychosocial health and wellbeing.
Organisations rightly devote significant attention to psychosocial hazards such as excessive workloads, fatigue, workplace conflict, job insecurity and poor support. These matters deserve serious attention. However, I wonder whether there is also value in considering the cumulative effect of constant cognitive stimulation.
Many modern workers spend their days moving between meetings, emails, instant messages, competing priorities and continual interruptions. The workday finishes and the stream of information often continues through phones, news services, social media and personal commitments. Opportunities for genuine mental disengagement can become increasingly limited.
Research by Sabine Sonnentag and others has highlighted the importance of what is termed psychological detachment—the ability to mentally disconnect from work during non-work time. Studies have linked this form of recovery with improved wellbeing and reduced psychological strain, recognising that people require opportunities to replenish their cognitive and emotional resources rather than remaining continually engaged.
The value of boredom, therefore, may extend beyond creativity. It may also contribute to recovery.
This is where the conversation begins to overlap with concepts such as mindfulness. While mindfulness has become a popular topic in recent years, its central premise is relatively straightforward. It encourages us to become more aware of our thoughts, actions and surroundings rather than moving continuously from one stimulus to the next. It asks us to pay attention.
Boredom can sometimes achieve something similar. Once the distractions are removed, we become more aware of what remains. We notice our surroundings, reflect on experiences, examine assumptions, revisit problems from different angles and begin to think rather than merely consume.
There is, however, an important distinction that is often overlooked.
Creating this space is not passive; it requires discipline.
In a world where attention has become one of the most valuable commodities, every notification, article, advertisement, platform and opinion competes for a share of our cognitive resources. Entire industries are built around attracting and retaining our attention for as long as possible. The challenge is not that information exists. The challenge is deciding what deserves our attention and what does not.
This is where decluttering becomes far more than a discussion about physical possessions. We can declutter our calendars, our information sources, our commitments and, ultimately, our attention. That does not mean disengaging from the world or ignoring issues that matter. It simply means consciously deciding where our focus should be directed rather than allowing every distraction to dictate it for us.
The ability to create space for thought is increasingly becoming a discipline in its own right. Left unchecked, the modern environment will happily fill every available moment on our behalf. Reclaiming time for reflection requires conscious choices about what we allow into our lives and, perhaps more importantly, what we choose to leave out. Not every meeting requires our attendance. Not every article needs to be read. Not every opinion deserves our attention. Sometimes maintaining focus on what genuinely matters requires us to deliberately reduce the noise surrounding it.
The discipline to disconnect is becoming every bit as important as the discipline to engage.
This idea also has implications for leadership, learning and organisational performance. We often assume that improvement requires more information, more meetings, more reports, more systems or more activity. Sometimes it does. Sometimes the most valuable thing we can do is create enough space to properly consider the information we already possess.
Not every problem requires a new framework.
Not every challenge requires another workshop.
Not every uncertainty requires an immediate response.
Sometimes what is required is reflection.
Jonathan Schooler's work on curiosity, creativity and mind-wandering suggests there may be considerable value in allowing the mind opportunities to explore beyond immediate tasks and demands. Curiosity, creativity and reflection appear to be closely connected to our capacity to step outside continuous goal-directed activity and allow broader patterns and possibilities to emerge.
To me, boredom has never really been the point. The real value lies in the space it creates: space to recover, notice what is happening around us, connect ideas that previously seemed unrelated, question assumptions and simply think.
In a world increasingly designed to capture our attention, making space to think may become one of the most valuable disciplines we can develop. Not because boredom is inherently valuable, but because reflection remains essential to learning, judgement, creativity and wellbeing. The challenge is no longer finding more information. The challenge is leaving ourselves enough space to think about it.