Start Paying Attention

Last week, I took a different path to class and noticed a building I had walked by for months without ever seeing. This wasn’t some huge revelation. Sure, the building was nice, but it primarily made me wonder what else I’d stopped seeing while going through the motions.

In life, and at Harvard especially, routine is the path of least resistance. We choose the same seat in lecture, surround ourselves with the same people, and curate the same schedule. Having a routine makes life simple and efficient, two qualities we tend to be drawn to.

Not only can routines prevent us from fully appreciating our experiences, but over time, they can also push our mindsets toward harmful complacency. We aren’t just getting used to our walk to class; we are getting used to the news, and thus getting used to accepting things as they are. If we don’t practice noticing in our day to day, we are less likely to pay attention when it matters. We must stop mistaking “this always happens” for “this will always happen.”

It makes sense why Harvard students are so prone to routine. We lead busy lives juggling all sorts of academic, extracurricular, and social obligations. A routine is a decision you make once — perhaps even unconsciously — and essentially never have to make again. They give us the predictability we need to make time for everything.

But routines come with a cost. Eat at the same table every night, and you’ll never meet the person two tables over. Take only the courses you know you’ll succeed at, and you’ll never accidentally try the class that changes your mind. Fundamentally, routines are designed to prevent the unexpected, but often the best things in your life happen by accident. You may not know you’re missing something until it finds you by chance.

The formulaic nature of routine doesn’t just harm our ability to be spontaneous, though. It also dulls our emotions, as we are conditioned to accept the familiar as ever-present. Literary critic Viktor Shklovsky highlighted the danger of habitualization: “If the whole complex lives of many people go on unconsciously, then such lives are as if they had never been.” He argues that art exists to make the familiar strange again, or as he writes, “to make the stone stony.”

We can apply Shklovsky’s stone metaphor to headlines today. As a society, we have developed routines of response. When a shocking story breaks, we don’t necessarily take the time to fully dissect it and understand its broader implications. We feel outrage for a day. We post on social media. We sign a petition. Then we return to our usual motions.

Each cycle is a little shorter than the last. Consider when a school shooting happens, or a case involving sexual assault. These stories are usually widely publicized in the news and online. It feels like everyone is talking about them.

But listen to the way many of those conversations end: “This happens at every school.” “It’s just frat culture.” “That’s how things go.” Although the intentions behind these statements may be an acknowledgement of a broader cultural problem, they often end up functioning as a shrug.

We do not forget the story, but we classify it as familiar. And once something is considered familiar, it becomes a lot harder to rally people to solve a problem. But “systemic” does not mean permanent. Every single system — built on rules, institutions, and habits — was created by people’s judgments and thus can be improved through our actions. Things that have “always been that way” only become unsolvable if we treat normalization as an excuse to stop trying.

I understand that routines help people go about their lives, and no one can stay outraged at anything forever. Yet this is why the answer is not to abandon routine entirely. Instead, you should deliberately choose a few things you refuse to get used to, and continue paying attention to them even when others move on.

Break your routines on purpose in small ways. See what you get out of walking a different way to class, enrolling in an elective that sounds odd, or starting a conversation with someone new in your House. Then, do the same with your mind. Pick something that the world has told you is normal, and decide that it isn’t. Notice it on the days when it feels like no one else does.

“This always happens” is a description. Do not let it become a prediction.

Tara G. Malhotra ’29, a Crimson Editorial editor, is a joint concentrator in English and Anthropology in Cabot House.