Your Amazon Prime 30-day FREE trial includes:
| Delivery Options | ![]() |
Without Prime |
|---|---|---|
| Standard Delivery | FREE | From £2.99* |
| Premium Delivery | FREE | £3.95 |
| Same-Day Delivery (on eligible orders over £20 to selected postcodes) Details | FREE | £5.99 |
Unlimited Premium Delivery is available to Amazon Prime members. To join, select "Yes, I want a free trial with FREE Premium Delivery on this order." above the Add to Basket button and confirm your Amazon Prime free trial sign-up.
Important: Your credit card will NOT be charged when you start your free trial or if you cancel during the trial period. If you're happy with Amazon Prime, do nothing. At the end of the free trial, you will be charged £95/year for Prime (annual) membership or £8.99/month for Prime (monthly) membership.
Buy new:
£12.77£12.77
FREE delivery:
Friday, March 22
in the UK
Dispatches from: Amazon Sold by: Amazon
Buy used £10.52
Download the free Kindle app and start reading Kindle books instantly on your smartphone, tablet or computer – no Kindle device required.
Read instantly on your browser with Kindle for Web.
Using your mobile phone camera - scan the code below and download the Kindle app.
How To Do Nothing: Resisting the Attention Economy Paperback – 7 Jan. 2021
Purchase options and add-ons
"A complex, smart and ambitious book that at first reads like a self-help manual, then blossoms into a wide-ranging political manifesto."--Jonah Engel Bromwich, The New York Times Book Review
One of President Barack Obama's "Favorite Books of 2019"
NAMED ONE OF THE BEST BOOKS OF THE YEAR BY: Time - The New Yorker - NPR - GQ - Elle - Vulture - Fortune - Boing Boing - The Irish Times - The New York Public Library - The Brooklyn Public Library
Porchlight's Personal Development & Human Behavior Book of the Year
In a world where addictive technology is designed to buy and sell our attention, and our value is determined by our 24/7 data productivity, it can seem impossible to escape. But in this inspiring field guide to dropping out of the attention economy, artist and critic Jenny Odell shows us how we can still win back our lives.
Odell sees our attention as the most precious--and overdrawn--resource we have. And we must actively and continuously choose how we use it. We might not spend it on things that capitalism has deemed important ... but once we can start paying a new kind of attention, she writes, we can undertake bolder forms of political action, reimagine humankind's role in the environment, and arrive at more meaningful understandings of happiness and progress.
Far from the simple anti-technology screed, or the back-to-nature meditation we read so often, How to do Nothing is an action plan for thinking outside of capitalist narratives of efficiency and techno-determinism. Provocative, timely, and utterly persuasive, this book will change how you see your place in our world.
- ISBN-101612198554
- ISBN-13978-1612198552
- PublisherMelville House Publishing
- Publication date7 Jan. 2021
- LanguageEnglish
- Dimensions13.84 x 1.73 x 20.83 cm
- Print length256 pages
Frequently bought together

Customers who viewed this item also viewed
To resist in place is to make oneself into a shape that cannot so easily be appropriated by a capitalist value system.Highlighted by 6,390 Kindle readers
What does it mean to construct digital worlds while the actual world is crumbling before our eyes?Highlighted by 4,603 Kindle readers
“Silence is not the absence of something but the presence of everything.”Highlighted by 2,576 Kindle readers
Product description
Review
Chapter 2 The Impossibility of Retreat
A lot of people withdraw from society, as an experiment…So I thought I would withdraw and see how enlightening it would be. But I found out that it’s not enlightening. I think that what you’re supposed to do is stay in the midst of life.
–AGNES MARTIN
If doing nothing requires space and time away from the unforgiving landscape of productivity, we might be tempted to conclude that the answer is to turn our backs to the world, temporarily or for good. But this response would be shortsighted. All too often, things like digital detox retreats are marketed as a kind of “life hack” for increasing productivity upon our return to work. And the impulse to say goodbye to it all, permanently, doesn’t just neglect our responsibility to the world that we live in; it is largely unfeasible, and for good reason.
Last summer, I accidentally staged my own digital detox retreat. I was on a solitary trip to the Sierra Nevada to work on a project about the Mokelumne River, and the cabin I had booked had no cell reception and no Wi-Fi. Because I hadn’t expected this to be the case, I was also unprepared: I hadn’t told people I would be offline for the next few days, hadn’t answered important emails, hadn’t downloaded music. Alone in the cabin, it took me about twenty minutes to stop freaking out about how abruptly disconnected I felt.
But after that brief spell of panic, I was surprised to find how quickly I stopped caring. Not only that, I was fascinated with how inert my phone appeared as an object; it was no longer a portal to a thousand other places, a machine charged with dread and potentiality, or even a communication device. It was just a black metal rectangle, lying there as silently and matter-of-factly as a sweater or a book. Its only use was as a flashlight and a timer. With newfound peace of mind, I worked on my project unperturbed by the information and interruptions that would have otherwise lit up that tiny screen every few minutes. To be sure, it gave me a valuable new perspective on how I use technology. But as easy as it was to romanticize giving everything up and living like a hermit in this isolated cabin, I knew I eventually needed to return home, where the world waited and the real work remained to be done.
--Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved."Odell's great strength as a writer is her ability to convey art's unique power without overestimating or misstating its social impact. . . . Ultimately, what sets her book apart from self-help is not a less quixotic set of demands but a more life-affirming endgame." --Megan Marz, THE BAFFLER
"Thoughtful, compelling, and practical." --gq
About the Author
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Chapter 2 The Impossibility of Retreat
A lot of people withdraw from society, as an experiment…So I thought I would withdraw and see how enlightening it would be. But I found out that it’s not enlightening. I think that what you’re supposed to do is stay in the midst of life.
–AGNES MARTIN
If doing nothing requires space and time away from the unforgiving landscape of productivity, we might be tempted to conclude that the answer is to turn our backs to the world, temporarily or for good. But this response would be shortsighted. All too often, things like digital detox retreats are marketed as a kind of “life hack” for increasing productivity upon our return to work. And the impulse to say goodbye to it all, permanently, doesn’t just neglect our responsibility to the world that we live in; it is largely unfeasible, and for good reason.
Last summer, I accidentally staged my own digital detox retreat. I was on a solitary trip to the Sierra Nevada to work on a project about the Mokelumne River, and the cabin I had booked had no cell reception and no Wi-Fi. Because I hadn’t expected this to be the case, I was also unprepared: I hadn’t told people I would be offline for the next few days, hadn’t answered important emails, hadn’t downloaded music. Alone in the cabin, it took me about twenty minutes to stop freaking out about how abruptly disconnected I felt.
But after that brief spell of panic, I was surprised to find how quickly I stopped caring. Not only that, I was fascinated with how inert my phone appeared as an object; it was no longer a portal to a thousand other places, a machine charged with dread and potentiality, or even a communication device. It was just a black metal rectangle, lying there as silently and matter-of-factly as a sweater or a book. Its only use was as a flashlight and a timer. With newfound peace of mind, I worked on my project unperturbed by the information and interruptions that would have otherwise lit up that tiny screen every few minutes. To be sure, it gave me a valuable new perspective on how I use technology. But as easy as it was to romanticize giving everything up and living like a hermit in this isolated cabin, I knew I eventually needed to return home, where the world waited and the real work remained to be done.
Product details
- Publisher : Melville House Publishing (7 Jan. 2021)
- Language : English
- Paperback : 256 pages
- ISBN-10 : 1612198554
- ISBN-13 : 978-1612198552
- Dimensions : 13.84 x 1.73 x 20.83 cm
- Best Sellers Rank: 128,256 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)
- 112 in Digital Art
- 726 in Environmental Conservation
- Customer reviews:
About the author

Jenny Odell is an Oakland-based artist, writer, and educator. Her writing has appeared in the New York Times, New York Magazine, The Paris Review, The Believer, McSweeney's, and Sierra Magazine. Her visual work has been exhibited internationally, including as a mural on the side of a Google data center in rural Oklahoma. Odell has been an artist in residence at the Internet Archive, the San Francisco Planning Department, and Recology SF (otherwise known as the dump). She is a lecturer in the Department of Art & Art History at Stanford University.
Customer reviews
Customer Reviews, including Product Star Ratings, help customers to learn more about the product and decide whether it is the right product for them.
To calculate the overall star rating and percentage breakdown by star, we don’t use a simple average. Instead, our system considers things like how recent a review is and if the reviewer bought the item on Amazon. It also analyses reviews to verify trustworthiness.
Learn more how customers reviews work on AmazonReviews with images
-
Top reviews
Top reviews from United Kingdom
There was a problem filtering reviews right now. Please try again later.
The argument goes something like this. The attention economy is bad for us: it grabs our attention but doesn’t give anything in return; it’s like junk food engineered for craving more rather than providing nutrition. However, we can’t just walk away from the world and become a hermit: we need some contact with it to function, to keep in touch, to do our work; we are social beings. So we need to “resist in place”: do what is needed, but no more. This is of course difficult, because the digital world is engineered to make it hard to ignore; consumerism is the way our world current runs; not everyone has the resources to just stop.
Odell suggests that one way to resist is to pay “deep attention”, to go down rabbit holes. Rather than skimming over the surface glitter, dig down in one place, and notice, and think. The approach that worked for her stemmed from bird watching. Initially this was paying enough attention to distinguish species; this led to noticing where and when they turned up. From there, it was a short step to thinking about the plants and the local ecology, and further. She describes the experience as “re-rendering” her reality, seeing the world in a new, different way. Ecology is about networks, flows, and a lack of sharp, easily defined boundaries; this less sharply-defined reality needs extra attention and effort to see.
Odell suggests that deep connection with the natural world is what is needed. However, I think many more things are sufficiently fractal to work: you can pay attention and dig deep and discover more and more wherever you start: probably any initial hobby or interest can lead to ever-increasing depth and richness: from birds to ecology; from sport to physiology or economics or equipment design; from crafting to materials engineering and science, or supply chains, or sustainable raw material production; and so on. Indeed, Odell uses discovery of this ever deepening complexity and context as evidence we do not live in a context-free simulation.
Odell finishes by talking of what comes next, after this deep attention has brought (in her case) the ecology front and centre. This ecology has been damaged, and is in need, not necessarily of restoration to some previous supposedly pristine state, but certainly of remediation, to a better, more healthy state. This requires seeing the complexity of what was there originally, and working with that complexity, in a form of “patient collaboration”. This work has no endpoint; it is a process of becoming.
I was surprised to find this turned into a book about the complexity of ecology, so soon after having read "What Should a Clever Moose Eat?". They make a good pair. Even it you don’t want to turn your attention to ecology, but rather start with some other hobby or topic of choice, there is a lot to think about in this discussion. Stop consuming digital junk; pay attention to your mental nourishment!
I think one can relate more to the book (and some of the examples) if one is familiar with California.
The work was a little contradictory at times about our relationship with our ‘app-driven devices’. And, I found a mention of the author ‘killing time’ simply bizarre given the underlying emphasis on what might be seen as ‘mindfulness’.
Perhaps this was just a figure of speech? That said, I did find the author’s prose style rather clumsy at times. Is this because she writes in American English and I’m a British English writer? Or it might be generational?
I’ve got a background in computing going back to the late 1960s, and was involved with AI work in the mid 1980s. Even then, some of the problematic aspects of technology were evident - if only in embryo.
Jenny Odell offers lots of suggestions for resisting but I see little evidence that her impassioned pleas will have much impact on most of those trapped in the ‘Attention Economy’. If one does want to resist (perhaps even ‘drop out’ to some degree) opportunities to do so seem very dependant on how much personal autonomy one enjoys. This is, to be fair, something she recognises.
The one, overwhelming depressing aspect of the book is the assertion that there’s ‘hundreds of designers and engineers predict(ing) and plan(planing) for our every move on these platforms’. In other words, getting us to ‘click’ for reasons that are essentially about generating income for these corporations.
In a world facing a myriad of problems from climate change to a global refugee crisis, it’s more than a pity that these talented people can’t find something more constructive to do with their time and energy.
That is the crux of Odell’s book. We should look up, look up, and look around from our daily routine engrossed at work and around our computers and cellphones. It is a book that nudges us to appreciate the diversity around us that we ignore because we are always in a hurry, and locked in by our routines, too pre-occupied with an ultimate objective – getting that promotion, securing a deal, inventing the product we dreamt about, and so on.
Odell tells us plenty of nice stories of how life can be enjoyed, and in the process, learn not just to appreciate nature, but how we can do our part to preserve it. We learn the joy of actually noticing not just the birds in our garden or neighbourhood, but the different songs they make, and their habits. Odell has a way of spinning such stories that not only inspires ‘aha’ moments, but actually, creates lots of warm feelings about our surroundings and ourselves.
The CD version is well produced and read by Rebecca Gibel over 8 hours. Very clear production, and Gibel has a warm and soothing way of reading.
Top reviews from other countries
De certa forma há essa coerência. Mas não espere um livro de auto-ajuda com frases feitas e passo a passos. A coerência vem com esforço, eu não sei se me esforcei o suficiente. Muitas ideias se sobressaem: biorregionalismo e o problema da economia da atenção, principalmente - para mim. O Brasil é muito, muito rico culturalmente. Moro no Rio de Janeiro, e o tanto de facetas do povo, da história, da ecologia, da cidade... É desesperador pensar que ainda me pego fixado em questões alienígenas do que focar no meu próprio berço. "Como não fazer nada" é na verdade um convite a como boicotar as tecnologias viciantes e perceber o espaço em que vive, e no tempo que seja necessário para que se perceba essa espaço.
O mundo físico, o contato olho no olho com outras pessoas, sentir a natureza, observar a ecologia em que estamos inseridos. Esse é o convite do livro, é o seu fazer nada.
There has been a lot of discussion in recent times of the fragmentation of our attention, a destruction of our attention spans, by the internet and smartphones. The effect of these technologies on children and knowledge workers has been well-documented. But it is more wide-spread than that. Walk anywhere in India and you will find everyone with their faces stuck in their smartphones. I have seen shopkeepers service me without even turning to face me, while watching videos on their phone. I have been in taxies in which the driver had a smartphone on their car’s dashboard. I have witnessed carpenters do their work semi-distracted by their phones.
The default response to this situation has been things like the digital detox or digital minimalism. Proponents of these ideas say that you should move away from your phone in order to do what matters: develop your careers, produce meaningful results, live a productive life. Jenny Odell, the author of “How to Do Nothing”, and an American artist, takes this a few steps farther and a few fathoms deeper. She argues, very compellingly, we should save our attention not because that would save our productivity, but because it doing so is the only way to live a good life.
Odell discusses the impossibility of renouncing our smartphones, and then comes up with the refreshing idea of a “third space”. She then talks about how attentive communication brings in a spatial and temporal context to conversation. These two ideas she presents in a breathtakingly poetic language. (Read the last two paragraphs of chapter 6 to see what I mean.)
My only quibble is that Odell’s rants against capitalism and the Western civilisation are unnecessary. These are often couched in typical leftist gobbledygook. It seems to me that it would have been so much nicer if Odell’s case were presented with in a spiritual language. Instead of poor, oppressed people needing to protect their attention from devious capitalists, we are all humans trying to pull our attention from a mad world and our unruly senses to our real, peaceful, inner selves. After all, attention management has been a topic of discussion in a India millennia before the arrival of capitalism (see Arjuna’s question to Krishna in Gita 6.33 and 6.34, and Krishna’s response). Odell also seems unaware of Gandhi’s experiments with slow reading. Buddha does feature in her story, but she is ignorant of other important Indian thinkers in this field. This limits her work.
Still, there is much that is positive in Odell. And we are in need of thinkers like her. This book is therefore strongly recommended.








