On Sunday night I had about twenty pages left in the book Irreplaceable. I’d been reading and capturing its ideas for about two weeks.
I reached for my phone first. Check the “news”. I put it down and picked up the Kindle instead.
The latest round in the fight between distraction and intention. I won this round.
One loop closed.
Then I read the last page, and my thumb was already back in the library. The all-too-familiar rhythm of my insatiable appetite for information.
Muscle memory.
I need more.
The choice that followed was deliberate.
I’d started with Nicolas Chaillan’s Replacement, a book arguing that AI has already changed what human work is worth.
Pascal Bornet’s Irreplaceable was the response: what makes a person valuable alongside it.
Next on the trail was Bornet’s Agentic Artificial Intelligence, the mechanics.
Threat. Response. Mechanics. I knew exactly where I was going.
This is the part of my mind I like. It chains one book to the next. It sees where an inquiry wants to go before I’ve named it.
Then on Wednesday morning, someone asked me a simple question. Did Irreplaceable answer the question I brought to it, or show me what I still needed to learn?
I couldn’t say. I’d have to go back to my highlights first. Which almost proves the point.
I knew where I was going. I couldn’t say what I was carrying.
So I went back. All 184 highlights, in one place.
Before I looked, I said out loud what I remembered.
AI is going to replace a lot of what humans do, because it can do it better, so we need to strengthen the skills that are only ours.
I had the headline.
The book gave structure and language to beliefs I’d already been developing.
The highlights gave me back the practical part. Cut what doesn’t matter. Reduce the distractions. Use the time you get back to think, create, and connect with people. Choose reflection over rush.
When I had to pick which of those I’m worst at, the answer came fast. Reducing low-value activity and distraction. The “news,” the social feeds, and all the other attention thieves.
Then I found passages I’d marked and lost track of. Bornet on understanding the why behind information. On returning to what you’ve learned. On reflection over rush.
I’d already marked the advice for the exact problem I spent this week writing about. Then I moved on to the next book.
None of those 184 highlights had a note on it.
The highlights kept what Bornet said. They didn’t keep why it mattered to me the day I marked it.
The words were safe the whole time.
David Allen taught me the mind is for having ideas, not holding them. Tiago Forte taught me to capture what’s worth keeping.
I did both.
What I’d lost was something else.
When I tried to name it, it came out like this: recovering why I was pursuing that line of thought in the first place.
Sometimes it starts as a hunch that something matters. Sometimes it’s the next step in a question I’m already chasing.
Either way, the why lives in me for a while, and then the next input arrives.
Forte just added a fifth step to his CODE method: REVIEW.
His focus is the yearly review. I’m borrowing it for a smaller moment, the last page.
So this week I ran a small experiment. When the reach for the next thing showed up, I’d stop and go back first.
Sunday, I traded one input for another.
Monday, I reflected, but only because someone asked me a question.
Tuesday, the time I’d set aside came and went. That round went to the thieves. I let it.
Wednesday, I finally sat down with the highlights.
One review in four days. My behavior is the same, so far. What changed is how clearly I can see the gap.
There’s a risk in this, and I can feel it.
Going back through highlights could become one more thing to consume, dressed up as reflection.
The review showed me what’s missing.
Whether it changes what I do with my attention tomorrow is the next round.
I’ll keep following the trail. That part of me stays.
What I’m learning is to ask one question at the last page, before the next one opens.
What am I carrying out of this one?