The Attention Currency
- Albert Schiller

- Nov 18
- 3 min read
My NoSmalltalk session with Sam Baisla
What is the one question a leader who has seen it all wishes people would ask? For Sam Baisla, it is not about fundraising, market share, or the secrets to success. It is a more profound and troubling inquiry into the state of our collective consciousness. He observes that people today are essentially "living a very transactional and shallow life", a condition he finds both sad and dangerous. This state is a direct contradiction to what science tells us contributes to a good life: "deep and meaningful relationships, less information, more quiet time with yourself, more reflecting upon nature". His analysis is a critique of a world that has become masterful at distracting us from what truly matters.
At the heart of his argument is a reframing of our most valuable asset. While we can debate the value of money or the subjective experience of time, he posits that "attention is actually the only currency that tells you whether you've lived a good life or wasted your life". It is the one resource that is truly finite and non-renewable. Where we choose to invest it defines the very texture of our existence. Yet, he sees this precious currency being thrown away "like peanuts" on trivialities. He points to tourists who experience nature "through a camera" instead of with their senses, or a world "completely bonkers" over the fleeting drama of celebrity feuds.

This misallocation of attention, he argues, is not an accident but a feature of our current systems. He critiques the core philosophy of modern capitalism, which requires "endless profits" and "nonstop growth" by converting everything, including our attention, into something consumable. This creates a paradox where the wealthiest nations suffer from the highest rates of suicide and obesity; the system's goals are fundamentally misaligned with human well-being. He sees a similar disconnect in the political sphere, where a generation of 70-year-old policymakers is making decisions for a 28-year-old populace about a digital world that is "barely 20 years old". The result is that critical issues, such as climate change and education, are not prioritized. The most tragic outcome of this systemic distraction is societal apathy. He points to the 630 million people watching a cricket final, a "circus which is a privately owned entity", while the nation faces staggering unemployment, a low happiness index, and the worst air quality in the world. "I don't see them protesting and demanding," he laments, because their attention has been expertly captured and redirected.

Sam’s personal response to this heavy knowledge is one of immense discipline. He deliberately avoids venting about these issues online, believing it is like "loosening up the pressure wall on a pressure cooker," which provides a false sense of action that prevents real change. Instead, he is "carrying this, and... living with it on purpose" to "channelize this into something which I can call a deep enough systematic institution". He is building the systems he believes are necessary, a quiet and patient form of protest. His philosophy is a challenge to us all: in a world designed to harvest our attention, the most radical act is to become a conscious investor of it.

5 Lessons I Learned from this Encounter:

Open Questions for Discussion
Sam Baisla uses a "persistence test" that many might find unconventional or even rude. In a world of digital noise, is this a fair and effective filter, or does it risk alienating potential founders who operate under different, more traditional codes of professional courtesy?
If, as Sam argues, persistence is more important than the initial idea, how should early-stage education and mentorship for young entrepreneurs be restructured to build this character trait, rather than just focusing on skills like pitch deck creation and financial modeling?




A persistence test may feel harsh, but in a world packed with polite surface-level interest, it’s one of the few ways to separate signal from noise.