Topics / Focus
How can I concentrate better?
What is attention, really?
Attention is the process by which you point yourself at a slice of the world and let everything else fall away for the moment. Psychology describes it as selectively concentrating on one aspect of information while other perceivable information recedes. You don't take in everything equally — you select, usually without noticing.
See it as a network. Around you and inside you there are countless possible connections: to the task in front of you, to the noise next door, to a thought about later, to the phone in your pocket. In any given moment exactly one of these connections is the active one — the one you are actually at. Attention isn't a floodlight that lights up everything; it's the question of which single connection is sending and receiving signals right now.
That's why “pay more attention” so rarely works. You don't have too little attention — you just have it somewhere else. The more useful question isn't “How do I try harder?” but: which connection is active in me right now, and which one would I rather have active instead?
Why does the phone pull harder than the task?
You know the feeling: you want to work, but your hand reaches for the phone almost on its own. That's not a character flaw. The connection to the phone is simply stronger than the one to the task — more practised, faster, instantly rewarded. Thousands of times you've swiped and in the same instant got something new: a message, a like, a small stimulus. Each time, that connection gained weight.
The task, by contrast, sends a weaker signal. Its reward is far away — being finished, eventually, maybe. The path there is effortful and unclear. When two connections compete for you at once, the stronger one almost always becomes active. Not because you lack will, but because your system has learned the practised, instantly rewarded connection and it fires faster.
What follows is important: you're not losing to a weakness inside you, you're losing to a very well-trained connection. Apps are built precisely to activate that connection again and again. Once you grasp this, you stop calling yourself undisciplined — and start working on the balance of strength between the connections rather than on your own morals.
Distraction: a different connection becomes active
Distraction feels like losing concentration. In the model it's something more concrete: a competing connection becomes active and pushes out the one to the task. A noise, a notification, a thought about the unpaid bill — something sends a stronger signal, and your attention jumps there. You didn't lose your concentration, it just moved.
These competing connections come from outside and from inside. Outside: the buzzing phone, the colleague, the open tab. Inside: worries, hunger, tiredness, a half-finished thought that keeps returning. The inner ones are often the more stubborn, because you can't simply clear the trigger away. An open thought of “I still need to deal with that” keeps activating until you've noted it down somewhere.
From this comes a sober plan. You don't need to become stronger, you need to lower the number and strength of the competing connections. Every distraction you clear in advance — the phone in another room, the open worry on a note — is a connection that simply can't become active in that moment.
How do you strengthen the weak connection to the task?
When the connection to the task is too weak, “pull yourself together” won't help. More pressure on a weak spot doesn't make it stronger, only more unpleasant. It works better to give the task itself a stronger signal — to handle it so that the connection becomes active more easily and stays active longer.
The simplest move is to make the entry tiny. A big, vague task sends a weak, diffuse signal; a clear first step sends a strong, unambiguous one. Not “study” but “open to the first page and mark one sentence”. Once the connection is active, it often holds on its own — the hardest point is activating it, not staying with it.
It also helps to give the task an immediate feedback the way the phone would. Set yourself a short block of time and see at the end what came of it. Cross off what's done so you can see it. These small, instant signals give the weak connection what it lacked: a reason to fire faster next time. That's how, over time, you shift the balance of strength.
Focus in the larger network: environment, body, rest
Concentration looks like something that happens in your head alone. But it hangs in a larger network. Your environment helps decide which connections are even available. If the phone is on the desk, the connection to it is only a glance away. If it's in another room, that whole edge drops out before it can become active. So you shape focus not only inside you but around you.
The body matters just as much. A weak, tired or hungry attention grips poorly — every competing connection then becomes relatively stronger. Sleep, movement, something to eat, a real break aren't side issues; they help determine how much energy even reaches the connection to the task. Anyone constantly working against exhaustion is fighting a losing battle against their own biology.
From this follows a different way of treating yourself. Instead of seeing your concentration as a fixed trait you either have or don't, you see it as a state you co-steer through your environment and your body. You stop asking “Why can't I concentrate?” and start asking: which network am I sitting in right now — and which connections am I, without noticing, making hard or easy for myself?
Can focus be trained?
Yes, but differently from what people often think. You don't train “concentration” as general muscle strength, you train particular connections. Every time you genuinely take on a task and the distraction doesn't grab you this time, the connection to the task gains a little weight — and the one to the distraction loses some. Over many repetitions, what feels “automatic” shifts.
That's exactly why a relapse isn't proof that it doesn't work. A strong connection practised over years doesn't vanish overnight. It just becomes active less often the more often you choose the other one in the decisive second. Don't expect a switch, expect a shift. The difference shows not on one perfect day but in how the average looks over weeks.
Be honest with yourself here: this is no miracle cure and no guarantee. It's a tool, a way of looking. Sometimes something larger sits behind a focus problem — lasting exhaustion, worries, perhaps ADHD. If concentrating suffers badly over a long time and weighs heavily on you, it's wise to seek professional help rather than only tweaking methods.
Seen through the model
Imagine you want to study for an exam for an hour. You open the book — and three minutes later you're scrolling your phone, with no idea how you got there. Not because you don't care about studying, but because the connection to the phone was, in that second, stronger than the one to the book. It's practised a thousand times over and instantly rewarded; the book only promises something weeks from now.
See it as a network. In front of you lie several possible active connections: to the book, to the phone, to the thought “I won't manage this anyway”, to the hunger in your stomach. Only one is ever active. The moment the book got a bit effortful, a competing connection sent the stronger signal — and your attention jumped there. You didn't lose it, it just moved.
Now you change not yourself but the balance of strength. You put the phone in another room — a whole edge drops out before it can become active. The thought “I won't manage this” you write on a note so it stops re-announcing itself. And you make the entry tiny: “one page, one marked sentence.” That's too small to wake any discomfort, but big enough to activate the connection to the book. Once it's running, it often holds on its own.
Step by step
- First notice where your attention is going before you redirect it. Ask: which connection is active in me right now — the task, the phone, a thought? Simply noticing is the first step.
- Clear the strongest distractions out of the network in advance: phone in another room, unnecessary tabs closed, door shut. What isn't within reach can't activate the competing connection.
- Write open inner thoughts briefly on a note. A noted thought stops re-activating itself — you take the signal away from the inner distraction.
- Make the entry tiny so the weak connection activates more easily: not “study” but “open to the first page and mark one sentence”. Activating is the hardest point, not staying.
- Give the task an immediate feedback the way the phone would: a short block of time, visibly ticked off at the end. Small, instant signals strengthen the connection to the thing with every repetition.
- Check the larger network: am I tired, hungry, overstimulated? Sleep, movement and real rest help decide how much energy even reaches the task.
Frequently asked
Why can't I concentrate?
Usually it isn't because you lack attention, but because it's somewhere else right now. In any moment one connection is active in you — and if a competing connection sends a stronger signal, say the phone or an open worry, your attention jumps there. So you aren't too weak, you're just pulling at the wrong spot. Instead of trying harder, it helps to clear the strong distractions in advance and give the task a clear, small entry point.
Why does my phone distract me so easily?
Because the connection to the phone is well-practised and instantly rewarded. Every swipe delivers something new in the same second — a message, a like, a stimulus. Thousands of repetitions have made that connection heavy, and apps are built precisely to activate it again and again. The task, by contrast, sends a weak signal with a far-off reward. When both compete for you, the stronger one almost always becomes active. So the most effective lever is to put the phone out of reach rather than fight the practised connection.
How can I train my concentration?
You don't train concentration as a general force, you train particular connections. Each time you genuinely take on a task and the distraction doesn't grab you this time, the connection to the task gains weight — and the one to the distraction loses some. Over many repetitions, what feels “automatic” shifts. Relapses are normal here: a connection practised over years doesn't vanish overnight, it just becomes active less often. Don't expect a switch, expect a slow shift over weeks.
What helps immediately against distraction?
Before you start, lower the number and strength of the competing connections. Put the phone in another room, close unnecessary tabs, shut the door. Write recurring inner thoughts briefly on a note — a noted thought stops re-activating itself. And make the entry into the task tiny so its connection activates more easily. You don't need to become stronger, you just need to make sure the distraction can't send a signal in that moment at all.
Is multitasking bad for focus?
In the model, true multitasking isn't possible: only one connection is ever active. What we call multitasking is rapid jumping back and forth between connections — and every jump costs, because activating a connection is the most effortful point. Each time you switch, you have to rebuild the old connection. That's why working in parallel feels productive but is usually slower and more error-prone. Finishing one thing before activating the next spares your attention.
When should I seek help for concentration problems?
Occasional distraction is normal and no cause for concern. But if concentrating suffers badly over a long time, weighs heavily on you, and methods change nothing, something larger may sit behind it — lasting exhaustion, worries, depression or ADHD. Then the focus problem is more a visible sign than the cause. In that case it's wise to seek professional support rather than only tweaking methods. This model is a tool for looking, not a substitute for a diagnosis or treatment.
Keep thinking
Related terms: Relation, The three states: empty, active, passive, Signal (“Schwingung”), Network level, The six viewpoints