Rethinking "multitasking"

The autistic trait I resonated with the least before better understanding its dimensions was monotropism. Sure, I've always had deep interests often labeled as "obsessive," and inertia has always impaired my ability to switch from task to task to some degree. Because I never do just one thing at a time, though, I assumed my ADHD's "distractibility" trait just overrode my monotropism.

At the same time though, I never really identified with "multitasking" because I thought it implied an ability to control the amount of attention given to one task versus the other, that an even division would be possible if I were truly "multitasking." I certainly can do more than one thing simultaneously, but one is always done more half-heartedly than the other. Knowing that, I never choose two high-stakes activities to do at the same time, as this increases my likelihood of making a mistake on both due to the competition for attention.

What I can do is bob and weave among unfinished tasks in a way that feels like multitasking. Because nothing reaches completion, everything started remains an open tab in my mind; it's still happening til it's done. But that's not the same as doing the tasks at the same time. For example, I might start a piece of writing, get bored and jump to organizing my drawer, leave that open and half-done upon remembering that I forgot to feed my dogs, and then when I come back to my desk, prioritize a return to the writing over the drawer project because of a sudden spark of inspiration I don't want to lose.

I almost never feel like I am doing just one thing. I almost never want to. I'll work on a Lego while listening to a podcast. I'll eat while scrolling through social media. I'll fold laundry while listening to an audiobook. I'll do a puzzle while a boring required work training plays in the background. These pairings aren't random activities strewn together, though; they're intentional and strategic. That's what this blog is about.

I spent my life assuming this pattern is what happens when you're bad at focusing, that I was simply beefing up tasks to trick my short attention span into giving me more bang for my buck. Now, I am beginning to realize I've been subconsciously solving another problem altogether. I'm not splitting my attention between two equally important activities, but rather I'm instinctively matching activities based on what the primary activity needs. Sometimes, I get it right without any conscious thought. Sometimes, I lose attention quickly, or I'm more engaged with the less important thing, so I turn it off, and then I can't focus on the more important thing at all. It's a lot of trial and error, but trial and error is only as useful as the data we collect about it to inform future decisions. Bringing the activity-matching decision-making process into consciousness has begun to rock my world, so I want to share what I've come up with so far in my exploration. Keep in mind as you read through my process that this is extraordinarily individualized based on priorities, values, attention capacity, resources, and other variables I can't possibly know for you. Use it as a springboard if you resonate rather than something to emulate.

Step 1: Identify your primary activity

Every pairing requires a "primary." That may be something you are obligated to do, you want to do, that sounds good right now, etc. The point is, it's the thing that will be prioritized. My realization that the two activities I choose are never equal in interest or importance is what led to a cascade of other questions about my needs that inform this framework.

The primary activity is the reason I'm doing this in the first place. It's the activity whose success constrains everything else. The secondary activity exists to support it. That means my first question isn't, "What else can I do while I'm doing this?" but rather, "What does this activity need?" Think of it like adding seasoning to your entree. "Primary" isn't necessarily synonymous with where most of your attention goes or which activity is more cognitively demanding but rather which is the point?

For example, if you're putting little thought into driving a route you're familiar with, and you're both more interested in and more focused on the podcast you've got playing, driving would still be the primary activity because it is the priority. For safety reasons, it has to be. If a pedestrian steps into the street, you have to be able to ditch the secondary to tend to the primary activity. Furthermore, it is the reason you're listening to that podcast in the first place.

Some activities don't need anything extra. Reading is the clearest example for me. It uses so much of my language processing and sustained attention that adding something else doesn't usually help; it actually makes it harder, if not downright impossible. Music with lyrics compete for the same resources. Movies are out of the question. Ironically, reading is one of the few activities into which I can disappear into flow, but my problem is getting there. The activation cost is enormous because it demands almost all of my attention from the very beginning. Once I'm in, I often don't want anything else. Because I often find other activities are a more efficient use of my energy (i.e. I get more bang for my buck), reading happens very rarely, even though it makes it onto my list of things I enjoy.

Most activities often leave some internal resources on the table, unused. Sometimes there's that one thing, whether it be a hyperfixation, a special interest, or a favorite hobby, that feels like it meets every need in the most perfect combination. For me, recently, that's been Lego builds. They are deeply engaging, visually satisfying, and thus one of my favorite things to do in my spare time. But even so, they don't use every part of my brain. If I build a Lego without any secondary activity, I enjoy it. If I build a Lego with a podcast on in the background, I enjoy it just as much, but now I'm also getting to listen to something I wanted to hear anyway and would have struggled to listen to on its own because auditory processing is so challenging for me. The important part is that the podcast has to fit. It can't be a dense educational lecture. It can't require me to catch every detail. Just as in the driving example, it has to be a secondary that's okay if I occasionally miss a sentence, or even a few minutes, if my attention shifts back to the Lego.

That is when I realized I wasn't just adding stimulation because "the more, the merrier." I was choosing a secondary activity with very specific characteristics, and I wondered if there might be criteria to pin down.

Step 2: Choose your secondary

I have started mentally asking myself these questions to get more specific than "What sounds good?" or "What are you in the mood for?," as these vague questions requiring me to be aware of my emotional state have always frustrated me as an alexithymic individual. Even if I could identify an activity that fit my mood, what does it matter if it's not going to happen because of a bunch of other barriers? Questions like these tell me what kind of secondary activity, if any, is likely to work for/support the primary:

• Does this primary activity even tolerate a secondary (e.g. would they be competing for the same attentional resources, like language or motor function?)

• How mentally demanding is it?

• If my attention drifts for a moment, can I easily recover?

• Is it already enjoyable enough on its own?

• Does it leave some of my cognitive capacity unused?

• Would missing information affect the experience?

• What kinds of thinking does it require? Language, visual processing, motor planning, problem solving? Generally, I want to make sure my secondary doesn't need me to pour from the same cup as I'm using for the primary.

My secondary activities have different jobs. I used to think having background noise was just a thing people did because it would be awkward otherwise, like how a sitcom without its laugh track just sounds eerie. But that's not my reality; I want the stimuli I invite in to serve a function. There are a few that come to mind:

Sometimes the secondary activity increases stimulation: listening to an audiobook while doing chores makes an otherwise understimulating task much easier to sustain to completion the way a certain wine might bring out the flavor of the otherwise-blander fish it's paired with.

Sometimes the secondary activity occupies cognitive resources that would otherwise start wandering around looking for something to absorb them, which is where I'm most at risk of getting sucked into inertia that robs me of autonomy (e.g. doom-scrolling that doesn't feel good or intentional). For example, if I'm roller blading as a primary, I'm focused on motor planning and spacial navigation, but with only ambient nature sounds around me, I might find myself feeling something is missing, craving auditory stimulation. That's when proactively putting on headphones and picking a playlist that fits the mood of the primary activity serves as the "resource overflow" function of a secondary activity.

Sometimes, especially when the primary is pleasurable enough as-is, it's simply about making better use of time. Because I am someone who finds efficiency satisfying, this isn't about grind culture or productivity; it's about authentic, self-defined preferences. If I'm already spending an hour happily building a Lego, for example, why not also enjoy a TV show? If adding it doesn't reduce my enjoyment of the Lego, it feels like a bonus rather than a distraction.

Combinations that don't work

There's more to matching primary with secondary activities than just identifying which is which and giving the secondary a job. There are patterns that point to greater or less likelihood of an effective pairing. In addition to a primary and secondary activity, I also look to match an active activity (one in which I'm doing) with one that's passive (watching, absorbing, or having something done to me). For example:

• Eating (active, primary) + TikTok (passive, secondary)

• Lego (active, primary) + podcast (passive, secondary)

• Work training (passive, primary) + puzzle (active, secondary)

What doesn't seem to work is trying to pair two activities that both demand the same resources. Reading while listening to a podcast asks my language system to do two things at once. Watching two different videos obviously doesn't work. Texting a friend while trying to complete a puzzle sounds possible on paper, but in reality, both require my eyes, my hands, and frequent decision-making. I end up constantly switching instead of feeling like one activity is supporting the other.

I'm less interested in whether an activity is active or passive than whether it complements the primary instead of competing with it, but it's useful when narrowing down good potential secondary activities to be aware that I'll probably find more success with one that contrasts with the primary.

What's the goal?

Most advice for ADHDers about maximizing our attention and therefore our time assumes the goal is to eliminate every possible distraction, but I'm starting to believe that it's actually to find the combination of conditions that allow this particular activity to feel the easiest, most sustainable, and most enjoyable for my particular brain.

We're actually not looking for the most stimulating pairing or even the most productive or enjoyable one. We're looking for the pairing that best supports the primary activity. That might mean no secondary at all, but when that's the case, it doesn't mean the people who told you to stop multitasking are "right." It's a matter of concluding that the competition for the same resources was too great. Sometimes it means adding stimulation or filling otherwise unused cognitive capacity. Sometimes it means taking advantage of time you're already spending. The point isn't to do more things. It's to create the conditions where the thing that matters most becomes easier to begin, to sustain, and to enjoy.

You can find a worksheet in PDF format to guide your personal optimization of your activity pairings here.