Comprehension v. Attention Economy: Why We Need to Understand How to Change Behavior and Thought Patterns, Not Just Secure Attention

“The attention economy” is a concept discussed ad nauseam, with entire bodies of work dedicated to it. 

The definition varies – Georgetown Law student Rai Hasen Masoud describes it as a “system [that] treats cognitive focus as a scarce resource to be algorithmically extracted, packaged, and monetized by dominant technology platforms.” 

Oliver Burkeman penned an article for The Guardian, comparing the attention economy to “yellow journalism”:

“What changed in the 2010s was not so much the arrival of new technology as the rapid evolution of a business model, the monetization of attention. This wasn’t a recent invention; indeed, it dated back to the “yellow journalism” of the 19th century, which used sensationalist stories and cheap cover prices to build big audiences that advertisers would pay to reach.”

As the media landscape grows, creators need to know how to grab that attention to keep advertisers happy through sponsorships, licensing deals, and other revenue streams.

But today, we’ve over-indexed on “capturing” attention, “hooking” people, and spending an exorbitant amount of time on things we’re not specialized in, like video transitions and graphic design. In turn, we’ve dramatically underestimated whether our POV can be easily comprehended, resonate, and have staying power that transcends an algorithm.

In a hyperpolitical, divisive landscape, we need creators who understand how to change behavior and thought patterns, not just secure attention.

So many folks are experts at getting noticed and haven’t given much thought to what happens after. With AI summaries gobbling up click-throughs to the actual source, and algorithms constantly changing reach, comprehension is the real measure of whether an idea landed.

A few years ago, I posted a Thread breaking down then-VP Kamala Harris’ appearance on the top-ranked podcast Call Her Daddy to show how savvy the tactic was: getting younger voters to turn out and creating media buzz before polls closed. 

The post caught fire – it got more attention than I could’ve imagined. Because of the topic, the comments became a place to argue. No one took the time to read my 7-part breakdown, shared from a marketing lens. People assumed it was ragebait and started debating me. Some people didn’t even realize we were on the same side. 

It eventually got so big, I couldn’t reply and add more context and nuance anymore. It had flooded too far into the mainstream.

Despite the views skyrocketing to numbers I’d never experienced before, and the most engagement I’d ever had on a post on all fronts, it did absolutely nothing for my business. 

My email list grew by two subscribers, and I gained a few new followers on Threads and a handful on Instagram. Zero inquiries to work with me. No sales. No invites to appear on podcasts, panels, or publications to talk about the topic ever came.

What happened? It had all the right ingredients: a divisive, zeitgeisty hook, an extremely timely and culturally relevant topic, and a short, easy-to-digest format. 

I nailed the attention part – the comprehension piece was missing. 

They had no further material to find for nuance and context, like a podcast, newsletter, or blog post. Since then, I refrain from only posting attention-grabbing content unless I know I can link them to a larger piece on the subject, or a space where we can have grey area conversations – something that seems nearly impossible to achieve in algorithmic comment sections.

Herbert Simon warned in 1971 that “a wealth of information creates a poverty of attention.” Now "attention is currency" is a staple of every marketing conference stage, and social media and influencer companies like Instreamly publish "Attention Economy Reports” as opt-in landing pages, knowing how valuable it is for brands to prove ROI.

But what’s missing is comprehension: Can your ideal audience retain what you say, act on it, and repeat it to someone else easily? Are your ideas referenced, cited, and quoted? As opposed to “I forgot where I heard this but someone said this thing about…”

Constantly hijacking attention costs us presence, disciplined thinking, and cognitive function. We know a little about a lot, and it’s felt all over the digital landscape. Ideas float around our brain but never land. 

David Rhys Alchin explains this through a medical lens to explain the uptick in ADHD diagnoses in adults: “Psychiatry requires a renewed clinical framework to recognize the impact of the modern information environment on human cognition. The advertising industry has already achieved this with precision.”

Comprehension is our next frontier. It’s not the opposite of attention; it’s the successor. Attention is the knock at the door; comprehension signals whether they come in, stay for dinner, and then tell their friends in explicit detail about the meal.

Comprehension is defined as “the act or capacity of understanding something fully with intellect.” 

We’ve seen an explosion in “intellectual influencers” this year, with new agencies even rolling out to represent folks the industry recognizes as knowledge-forward creators. Figures Company represents “people of alternative influence.”  The WSJ wrote up a report on what these kinds of companies aim to do: promise “marketers access to niche and engaged audiences far from the blast of social media.”

With algorithms prioritizing rage-bait and highly visual content, and brands realizing reach and massive followings aren’t the only markers of success, this kind of agency is forging a new path through tastemakers.

These folks often come from academia, tech, fashion, and art. The difference between a “traditional influencer” and these knowledge creators is subject matter, medium, and delivery. Knowledge creators make sure their audience comprehends what they’re sharing via magazines, apps, community events, research papers, long-form interviews, podcasts, books, and more.

In a world full of AI slop, where consumers feel tricked after watching an AI-generated video or disappointed to learn writers pen full books using gen AI tools, these creators have real staying power that doesn’t depend on an algorithm.

One of the biggest threads across knowledge creators is where they disseminate information, and how: long-form content like podcasts, books, magazines, physical products, or owned, valuable IP. They treat socials as distribution for their larger bodies of work: to share a podcast episode, link to a Substack newsletter, or invite people to meet them offline at community events.

Their information lands, because it has one track that doesn’t compete in a casino-like, algorithmic space. When someone reads a book, no ads distract them. When tuning into a podcast, they don’t flip through episodes – they stay until the end to get the full message. Attending events prompts a physical presence one can’t experience in a social feed.

They’ve figured out the true formula for today’s constantly changing landscape: Attention without comprehension doesn't just fail to convert. It actively costs you time.

There’s no need to spend hours on trendy Reels that become fleeting trends when you could better use that time to draft a well-thought-out essay that could get picked up by new outlets or become part of a future published work.

Why spend hours on Canva graphics when you could invest that time into building your owned, highly valuable IP and body of work?

Ramit Sehti is an excellent example of this: he created an entire personal finance universe around “The Rich Life”. 

This turned into multiple published best-selling books, a Netflix show, a top-ranking podcast, and constant news coverage. He’s an expert at capturing attention with his personality and branded language – he’s even better at getting people to comprehend his work. He changes behaviors (he always gives updates on his Money for Couples podcast on what the couples did post-recording, and the majority of the time, the updates are positive, like making an Emergency Fund, paying off debt, or finally splurging on themselves after years of hoarding savings). 

I myself was able to pay off thousands of dollars of credit card debt after listening to Ramit’s podcast. I understood his concepts, which influenced my behavior and prompted me to act.

This is what true comprehension is: the ability to interrupt a pattern, drive behavior change, and see lasting results.

The comprehension economy doesn’t focus on views, likes, and shares. It swaps those for citations, invites, and true internal change.

The tradeoff is easy dopamine, instant gratification, and slower growth. But deep growth requires slowness. Comprehension is the ultimate indicator of resonance, and those are the true metrics knowledge creators should optimize towards.

Chelsea Riffe is the host of the hit podcast Notes From the New World, a top 1% show known for asking the bigger questions around the cultural zeitgeist, our inner worlds, and what's this all FOR? She's a Cultural Philosopher, obsessed with understanding how we think, and how seemingly unrelated things relate HARD (her favorite thread to pull is how reality TV is the ultimate mirror for our psyches—don't get her started). You can connect with her on Instagram and Threads.