“The Sirens’ Call” is a great synopsis of how we got to this moment

Chris Hayes did a great job exploring how capturing attention shapes society

I am a big fan of Chris Hayes’ work. I first encountered Chris around late 2019 or early 2020 through his podcast, "Why Is This Happening?" instead of TV through his primetime news show “All In” on MSNBC. I appreciate his thoughtful interviewing style and the diverse range of experts he invites. It fascinates me that despite his well-known status as a podcaster, a medium experiencing a significant cultural moment due to the prominence of podcast appearances in elevating Donald Trump’s platform for a comeback 2024 election win, his primary job remains tied to linear television—a medium increasingly struggling to capture people’s attention. He appears uniquely positioned to effectively navigate both traditional media and new digital spaces. Chris often teased themes from his book, “The Sirens’ Call” on his podcast, making it one of the few recent books I was genuinely excited about. As an academic who already dedicates a significant amount of time to reading, I often find it challenging to find pleasure in reading. Consequently, I decided to listen to it as an audiobook and finished it during a car ride from a friend’s wedding on March 30th. “The Sirens’ Call: How Attention Became the World’s Most Endangered Resource” is a great read for people of all ages who are interested in the commodification of our attention and who are also curious about finding a way to break free from the cycle of constant overstimulation.

“The Sirens’ Call” does an excellent job explaining the dynamics of the attention economy—the modern landscape where capturing and maintaining attention is a primary economic driver. Chris clearly describes how attention has become essential currency, providing numerous compelling examples of how companies, advertisers, and political groups constantly compete for our attention. A central idea he explores is the widely recognized concept: "If you are getting something for free, you are probably the product.” Chris effectively demonstrates how our attention is not only monetized but also manipulated to influence our choices and behaviors. The information overload caused by this intense competition often overwhelms us, making it challenging to identify high-quality content and engage in meaningful interactions. The book is particularly relevant in today’s overwhelming news environment. We are constantly bombarded with significant events, ranging from legal battles and ethical controversies to wars and public health crises, which all relentlessly demand our attention. Chris accurately portrays this reality, highlighting how the attention economy exacerbates feelings of anxiety, confusion, and fatigue among the general public.

One aspect of the book that I found less persuasive was Chris’ proposed remedies for negative consequences of the attention economy, such as reverting to simpler technologies like “dumb phones” (devices limited to calls and texts), or increasing reliance on print media. While these solutions may reduce distractions, they overlook the practical realities of the group most affected by the negative consequences of the attention economy. Those who would benefit most from reduced digital engagement often lack either the resources (time or money) or the willingness to adopt these strategies. In cases where individuals are being harmed against their will or, in some cases, within their will but through deception, government intervention or regulatory bodies are necessary. Chris acknowledges the ethical concerns associated with forcibly restricting individuals’ choices and freedoms. In the current moment where regulatory federal government agencies are being torn apart with a hacksaw, it also feels unrealistic to expect any short term restriction for the detrimental side of attention commodification. However, a fundamental problem remains unresolved: the most vulnerable and least informed individuals often lack access to reliable and high-quality information sources, such as subscriptions to reputable news outlets. Even if they had access to subscriptions from renowned journalists worldwide, the reach and influence of individuals attempting to mislead them or exploit their attention often surpasses that of mainstream media outlets. When a reputable news source like the New York Times employs fact-checking and solicits donations, it presents a significantly less productive financial model compared to the rhetoric surrounding the alleged bias of legacy media and the lucrative advertising opportunities generated by divisive content. Divisiveness creates the circumstances to increase engagement, engagement brings more attention, and more attention eventually brings more money. Fact-checking can bring you to a place where the truth is not incredibly divisive or engaging, so the reach and subsequent engagement is often smaller. This issue underscores a critical dilemma: who should be held accountable when negative consequences (like uplifting misinformation or harmful unverified stories without correction) from the attention economy? Platforms often evade responsibility by portraying themselves as neutral entities providing a place for discourse, despite the widespread problems such as misinformation, radicalization, and mental health crises directly linked to their content distribution. Liability debates persist without resolution, with corporations, despite their substantial resources and legal expertise, typically avoiding accountability, leaving individuals unprotected.

Reflecting on why this matters for my field of healthcare research, I recognize the severe consequences of our failure to effectively capture public attention, particularly during the COVID-19 pandemic. Despite the rapid development of some of history’s safest and most effective vaccines, public skepticism towards vaccination and medical authority significantly increased. The guidance provided during the pandemic fluctuated due to the ever-changing nature of scientific research and infectious disease progression, which often requires responding to rapidly evolving targets. Additionally, healthcare professionals tend to be less outgoing and may not communicate as definitively as others, as the scientific process emphasizes elevating expertise and acknowledging the limitations of your process (something that sensationalist new media platforms often do not feel the need to put forward). While there have been past instances of wrongdoing in science and medicine, properly vetting information also takes time, which many people lack. Trust is built on relationships and relatability, and science certainly emphasizes internal relationships and interdisciplinary teams. However, communication to outsiders seems to be a priority during crises but not during the regular day-to-day. While poor communication undoubtedly played a role, the root cause of the post-COVID backlash against biomedicine appears deeper: a systemic failure by healthcare systems to adequately support communities, fostering distrust. People felt that healthcare institutions let them down during the pandemic, reinforcing skepticism towards medicine. We now have a moment where we can think about making regular communication a norm, but we also must think about how to make sure the limitations of claims of others trying to capitalize on their attention are more widely known.

We have an intriguing case study for the nuance that can be present in issues. Observing the impact of outcomes surrounding the substantial expansion of advertising for GLP-1 weight loss drugs (e.g. Ozempic, WeGovy), could provide a real time opportunity for science to think about risk communication. The coverage of impacts and abilities for GLP-1 drugs has been extensive, and I firmly believe they will have some societal impact. However, the parallels between these drugs and vaccines are quite intriguing. A vaccine is a one-time injectable, while GLP-1s require a much higher frequency of administration. Additionally, its important to consider the controversy surrounding advertising versions that have not undergone FDA approval, such as compounding pharmacies that have aired Super Bowl ads alongside misleading Instagram ads. These drugs have undergone far less rigorous testing compared to COVID vaccines, yet they attract significant public attention. Given the vanity effects of weight loss and the invisible impact of vaccination in preventing illness, I would not be surprised if compounded GLP-1s do not elicit a large negative sentiment like the current negative push-back against vaccines. This highlights the substantial influence wielded by those who effectively manage public attention, whether positive or negative. Ultimately, comprehending attention—who controls it, how is manipulated, and its societal impacts—will be crucial in addressing our complex health issues of the future.