Key Takeaways
The article delves into the profound influence that our patterns of attention—especially during meetings—wield over both our individual efficiency and the collective culture of the organizations we inhabit. It unpacks a compelling narrative that blends lessons gleaned from a world-renowned chief executive officer with deeply personal revelations about mastering focus in an age where digital interruption has become a perpetual background noise.
A striking example comes from Jamie Dimon, the distinguished CEO overseeing JPMorgan Chase, a financial titan managing assets worth trillions of dollars. Dimon has cultivated a habit that seems almost radical in today’s incessantly connected professional climate: he deliberately leaves his mobile phone behind, tucked away in his office throughout the workday. He has configured his device to block virtually all notifications, permitting only text messages from his three daughters to come through—a deliberate exception reserved for the people who matter most. Should an urgent matter arise, colleagues and clients know to contact him directly through his office line. He explains that in the context of meetings, if he catches someone’s attention diverted toward an open laptop or glowing phone screen, he asks that person to close it, describing the act of multitasking as not only unproductive but also fundamentally “disrespectful.”
Crucially, Dimon insists that his stance is not about asserting control or enforcing arbitrary discipline. Instead, it is rooted in a deeper aspiration—to reclaim a quality many professionals have surrendered without realizing it: genuine presence. In his view, and increasingly supported by cognitive science, the modern bombardment of digital stimuli has eroded our ability to be fully attentive to what—and who—is directly before us.
The author confesses to having grasped this lesson the hard way through personal experience. Before the global pandemic, outward appearances signaled success: a thriving international enterprise, a loving household, and a prestigious career that created opportunities to share the stage with celebrated icons such as Oprah Winfrey and Richard Branson. Yet beneath those accolades lay exhaustion and emotional depletion. Despite material and professional achievement, the author felt hollow—burned out, mentally scattered, and emotionally detached from both work and family.
One destructive misconception governed that period: the belief that juggling numerous tasks simultaneously would amplify productivity. In practice, it achieved the opposite. Mid-meeting, the author’s mind wandered to logistical worries—flight times, delayed responses, unfinished projects—while at home, attention drifted perpetually toward the glowing phone screen, substituting superficial connection for authentic engagement. Moments that should have been restorative with family instead deepened the sense of emptiness. Even more telling, the team mirrored this fractured attention. Meetings devolved into scenes where half the participants were absorbed by their devices, while those attempting to focus struggled to make progress toward shared objectives.
The turning point arrived with the realization, confirmed repeatedly by scientific research, that the human brain is fundamentally incapable of executing multiple cognitive tasks at once. What most call “multitasking” is merely rapid task-switching, an exhausting process that imposes what neuroscientists refer to as a “switch cost.” Experiments consistently demonstrate that such constant redirection diminishes accuracy and elongates completion time, often resulting in up to a forty percent decline in measurable productivity.
Neuropsychiatrist Dr. David Vago articulates this phenomenon succinctly: each mental shift comes with a toll. Seemingly negligible interruptions accumulate into lost hours of concentration, eroding not just efficiency but also the sense of connection and understanding that arises when we give undivided attention. As he eloquently states, attention represents one of our most intimate forms of energy, and when we offer it wholly, distraction transforms into meaningful purpose.
Everyone recognizes that disheartening moment when conversation loses reciprocity. Speaking to a child, friend, or partner who simultaneously scrolls through a device conveys instantly that the exchange lacks full presence. Words must compete with a stream of digital information. The same phenomenon, when translated to professional settings, undermines trust and collaboration. A team member glancing repeatedly at a notification projects the implicit message that the current discussion or the people present are less valuable than the buzzing screen. Imagine trying to persuade a client while their gaze flickers to a smartwatch every few minutes; the subtle disengagement can silently derail the entire encounter.
Divided attention, though often masked as efficiency, communicates volumes more powerfully than intention or language. We now inhabit a professional landscape saturated with stimuli but impoverished in connection. Within this environment, cultivating presence is no longer a soft skill—it is a competitive advantage, a means of standing out through authenticity and focus.
Dimon’s disciplined approach to meetings exemplifies this principle. By removing his phone from the equation, he ensures his concentration remains absolute—he becomes “100 percent focused,” free from the mental noise of pending emails or messages. This state of attentiveness benefits not just the individual leader but radiates through the organization, recalibrating collective norms. When a leader models full engagement, it implicitly grants others permission to do the same. It creates psychological safety for participants to focus deeply, encourages thoughtful contributions, and elevates the caliber of ideas produced.
Building such a culture of presence begins with deliberate action. First, leaders must establish the standard visibly. Starting a meeting by consciously placing one’s phone out of sight signals that the conversation demands respect and attention. Colleagues instinctively emulate that behavior; if leadership engages distractedly, distraction cascades, but if leadership listens intentionally, the team rises to mirror that focus.
Second, leaders must learn to manage their connectivity strategically rather than reactively. As Dimon has explained in interviews, he is not avoiding communication by delaying responses—he is merely choosing the optimal times to engage. By designating fixed intervals for checking messages—perhaps brief windows morning, midday, and late afternoon—he prevents interruption from dismantling continuous thought. Developing the self-discipline to sustain uninterrupted focus for even twenty minutes can have a transformative effect on overall output.
Third, modeling what author and researcher Cal Newport calls “deep work” is essential. For tasks requiring creativity or strategic clarity, eliminating distractions completely—closing superfluous software tabs, silencing alerts, and even physically separating from personal devices—signals the importance of immersive concentration. This practice communicates not asceticism but respect for the work itself; by protecting one’s attention, one models to the team that meaningful progress demands space and stillness.
Ultimately, the fulfillment derived from such presence extends far beyond professional efficiency. Ironically, in a time defined by perpetual connectivity, genuine connection has become rare. People are reachable at every moment yet truly present for almost none. Presence, therefore, transcends productivity hacks—it becomes a route to inner satisfaction and renewed engagement with life. When attention ceases to be divided among countless competing inputs and anchors instead in a singular person, task, or conversation, the experience of work and relationship shifts profoundly. Tasks acquire meaning, relationships regain warmth, and the perpetual sense of running behind gives way to a grounded awareness of the present moment.
Dimon epitomizes this ethos by preparing thoroughly before meetings, reading materials in advance so that in the meeting itself, his whole attention is directed toward the discussion. He has stated plainly that if he ever found himself unable to offer that level of concentration, it would be time to reconsider his role entirely. His philosophy underscores a simple yet transformative standard: progress is not measured by doing everything simultaneously but by doing each thing completely. Success is not about perfection—it is about presence.
The path forward need not involve an abrupt overhaul of one’s working style. It starts with small, intentional steps: one meeting approached without distraction, one conversation where the phone stays out of reach, one task completed with sustained attention. Through such moments, presence grows into habit, reshaping both inner satisfaction and outer results. What emerges is a rediscovery of capability that was never truly lost, only obscured by noise. By reclaiming full awareness in each moment, we not only enhance our performance but also reconnect with the essence of what it means to lead and to live attentively.
Sourse: https://www.entrepreneur.com/growing-a-business/jamie-dimon-does-this-in-meetings-i-didnt-until-i/499366
