The Lure of Attention: How to Tell Stories Without Losing the Plot

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about the difference between attention and meaning.

There’s a gravity to the attention economy — a pull that can quietly reshape how we tell stories, what we emphasize, and even how we define success. It rewards urgency, spectacle, and surface-level engagement. And if I’m being honest, I’ve felt it tugging at my own work. That voice saying: “Make it shorter. Make it punchier. Make it viral.”

But attention is not the same as impact.

As a filmmaker and storyteller, I work with organizations that have real, often urgent missions—health equity, environmental justice, and community resilience. These stories deserve attention. But the danger is that in the chase for eyeballs, we can start cutting corners, flattening complexity, or centering ourselves instead of the people whose stories we’re entrusted to tell.

This tension is not new. But it feels sharper now, when attention is treated like capital and narrative is a form of currency. When AI can spit out a compelling script in seconds. When it’s easier than ever to substitute performance for substance.

So, how do we resist? How do we stay rooted?

Here are three ideas I’ve been coming back to:

1. Start with your north star.

Before the first interview, the first frame, the first post—ask: What is this story truly about? Not just what it’s trying to say, but what it hopes to change. Let that guide the structure, the style, the call to action. Let that guide what you’re willing to leave out.

2. Don’t confuse metrics for meaning.

High engagement doesn’t always mean high impact. And a piece that moves slowly and quietly through the right circles can matter more than a million impressions from people who scroll past. It’s okay to make work that lives outside the algorithm’s spotlight.

3. Create with friction.

Not everything needs to be effortless or optimized. Sometimes, letting a moment breathe or sit unresolved can offer the kind of emotional truth that no data point can capture. The best stories don’t just grab your attention. They stay with you.

I’m writing this not as someone who has it all figured out, but as someone actively trying to build guardrails against the worst impulses of the attention economy. I still believe in storytelling that honors its subjects, respects the viewer’s intelligence, and aims for lasting resonance, not just reach.

In a world where attention is cheap and meaning is scarce, maybe the most radical thing we can do is slow down—and tell the truth.