Digital Minimalism for the Neurodivergent Brain

I am older than Google. Seriously! That puts me smack in the middle of the "Elder Millennial" micro-generation, and let me tell you—it's a weird place to be.

I remember learning to type thanks to Mavis Beacon, fording rivers in The Oregon Trail, and owning many of the things that are now just icons on your desktop (looking at you, floppy disk "save" button). I would sit on the floor next to an extra phone line with my massive hand-me-down Toshiba laptop, coding Final Fantasy fansites, making Winamp skins, and chatting with people across the world on BBSs and AIM. RIP to the best messenger service ever created.

But here's the kicker: I also remember before all of this. I was a tail-end free-range kid, drinking gritty hose water, fishing for trout with my dog, riding bikes with random neighborhood kids until the streetlights came on. The internet wasn't omnipresent—it was a destination you went to rather than something that followed you everywhere.

Fast-forward a couple decades, and I found myself working in Silicon Valley during the wild west days of social media. MySpace Top 8 drama was real. Twitter was still “Twitter” and had 140 characters which we thought that was plenty. I watched Tumblr introduce infinite scrolling and Facebook add the "Like" button—features we genuinely believed would enhance people's lives.

Plot twist: we were also learning how to use these features to get clicks, engagement, extended time-on-site, and ultimately, money. We were accidentally (and sometimes not-so-accidentally) creating the addictive design patterns that now dominate every app on your phone.

If you want to understand the full scope of how we got here, I highly recommend watching The Social Dilemma or checking out this Kurzgesagt video that breaks down the psychology behind these design patterns. Cal Newport also explores this brilliantly in his book Digital Minimalism—which was an enlightening wake-up call for someone like me who’s been so deep in this mess.

The irony isn't lost on me…Today, I feel more "Elder" than "Millennial." As a neurodivergent person, the older I get, the more I feel my grip on "keeping my shit together" slipping—specifically what I call my Productivity Mask. You know that feeling when all the digital noise becomes too much? When your phone buzzes and you want to chuck it into the nearest body of water?

And yeah, I know as a marketer, I take advantage of this noise.

The tools that were supposed to make us more connected and productive have become sources of overwhelm, especially for neurodivergent brains that are already working overtime to process the world. We're dealing with notification fatigue, infinite scroll addiction, and the constant pressure to be "always on"—all while trying to maintain some semblance of focus in a world designed to fracture our attention.

And yeah, the biggest thing marketers are buying from is your “attention.”

…and trust me, you don’t want to know how much it’s worth sometimes…

What Digital Minimalism Actually Means for Our Brains

Digital minimalism isn't about going full Amish and abandoning technology. Newport defined it as "a philosophy of technology use in which you focus your online time on a small number of carefully selected and optimized activities that strongly support things you value, and then give everything else the boot."

The neuroscience behind why this approach is especially crucial for neurodivergent brains is fascinating. Research published in Frontiers in Psychology shows that constant digital stimulation affects our dopamine regulation—something that's already different in many neurodivergent brains. For neurodivergent folks, this is especially crucial because:

1. Sensory overload is real: Every notification, every color change, every sound is competing for your brain's attention.

2. Executive function is finite: Decision fatigue from constantly choosing what to engage with online depletes the same mental resources you need for work and life.

3. Hyperfocus can backfire: What starts as "I'll just check TwitBook for five minutes" can become three hours of doomscrolling.

Practical Strategies to free your brain

Here's what I've learned from both building these systems and trying to escape them:

1. Ruthlessly Audit Your Digital Inputs

Look at every app, every notification, every subscription with fresh eyes. One of my favorite ideas from Newport's book is that you should have notifications from people, not products. 

Ask yourself:

• Does this app/notification/sub serve a specific purpose in my life?

• Is this the best tool for that purpose, or just the most addictive? Is there something better?

• When was the last time I actively chose to engage with this vs. falling into it?

2. Create "Analog Zones"

I have spaces and times that are completely digital-free—for example, my weekly dinner with friends, the phone is elsewhere, same with garden work outside and my analog journal time. While I wish I was better at this, my phone at night is magnetically mounted on a charger I can't reach from my bed (though it's still in my room—guilty). I have a physical notebook for brainstorming and notes (yes, with actual paper!). These aren't punishment zones—they're recovery spaces for my overstimulated brain.

3. Redesign Your Digital Environment

Use your knowledge of how these systems work against their own design:

• Turn off all non-essential notifications. And really define "NON-ESSENTIAL." If you must have notifications, time block them into your day where you will check said non-essential at certain hours.

• Remove social media apps from your phone—make engagement intentional by requiring you to log in via browser.

• Use website or other digital blockers during focus time. I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again: I love ScreenZen as my app blocker/pauser. I also love Pomodoro Kitty.

• Switch your phone to grayscale to reduce the dopamine hits from colorful interfaces.

4. Multitasking Isn’t Real - Batch Your Digital Tasks

Instead of checking email/messages/social media immediately or even throughout the day, designate specific times for digital communication. This reduces the constant task-switching that's especially draining for neurodivergent brains. And before you say "but I'm good at multitasking," let me stop you right there—here’s one of many studies that shows that multitasking is hella not real. What we call “multitasking” is actually rapid task-switching, and it comes with a cognitive cost every single time. Especially for those of us whose brains are already working harder to filter and process information, creating boundaries around our digital consumption isn't luxury—it's necessity.

5. Recognize Your Vulnerabilities

Know when you're most susceptible to digital rabbit holes. For me, it's when I'm stressed or procrastinating on something difficult (like this blog post—it's been in draft for like...months). Having a plan for these moments—like going for a walk or calling a friend for some body doubling help—prevents the three-hour Instagram spiral. Research from the Baker Heart Research Institute shows that serotonin production—our mood regulation chemical—directly correlates with natural light exposure. When we're scrolling instead of stepping outside, we're literally choosing the option that makes our brains feel worse.

Wanna Deep Dive More?

Check out my post about how Vitamin D and Serotonin work on your brain and some stuff you can do to get some sun!

The Goal Isn't Perfection, It's Intention

Look, I'm not going to pretend I've achieved some zen state of digital enlightenment. It's not about digital abstinence, it's about digital intentionality. The goal isn't to eliminate technology from our lives—it's to make sure we're using it rather than it using us.

Dr. Sanjay Gupta on his podcast "Chasing Life" did a season inspired by his kids and their technology usage. It's a good listen if you have time, but I'll bring up a point that was discussed with several experts: we live in a digital era and it's not just a tool we use. We almost need to treat technology like food. It's something we need to engage with, but we need to do so responsibly.

Your Brain Deserves Better

You don't have to accept digital overwhelm as the price of participating in modern life. You can be selective about which digital tools serve you and which ones are just noise. You can create spaces and times that are yours alone, free from the constant ping of notifications and the pressure to engage.

Your attention is not a renewable resource. Your focus is not an infinite well. And your mental energy is too valuable to be constantly drained by systems designed to capture and monetize your brain cycles.

Take back some control. Your future self (and your executive function) will thank you. You got this.