Hey everyone, welcome back to My Weird Prompts. We are diving into a topic today that hits home for a lot of people, and honestly, for us too. Today's prompt from Daniel is about the mechanics of executive function and that specific, frustrating phenomenon he calls task drift. It is February twenty-sixth, twenty-six, and it feels like we are finally having a global conversation about how our brains actually handle the deluge of information we deal with every single day.
Herman Poppleberry here. And Corn, I am so glad Daniel brought this up because executive function is one of those terms that gets thrown around in productivity circles and clinical psychology constantly, but it is often misunderstood as just being organized or good at using a calendar. It is so much more fundamental than that. It is really about the brain's internal management system. In the last two years, especially with the rise of pervasive augmented reality and always-on AI assistants, the strain on our executive function has never been higher. We are essentially asking our biological hardware to run software it was never designed for.
Right, and it is funny because when you hear executive, you think of someone in a high-rise office making big decisions. But in the brain, it is more about the moment-to-moment regulation. Daniel is asking us to compare what good executive function looks like versus the experience of someone with ADHD, specifically looking at productivity and how we can use technology to help without it feeling like Big Brother is watching over our shoulder. He mentioned that he is tired of tools that treat him like a child or a criminal just because he got distracted by a Wikipedia rabbit hole about Bronze Age collapse while he was supposed to be filing his taxes.
And before we get into the technical solutions, we really need to lay the groundwork for what we are talking about. Executive function is not a single thing. It is a suite of cognitive processes. Think of it like the air traffic control system of the brain. It manages the flow of information, decides which planes—or thoughts—get to land, which ones stay in a holding pattern, and which ones are cleared for takeoff. That is my first analogy of the day, and I will try to keep them sparse, but it really is the best way to visualize the coordination involved. If the air traffic controller falls asleep or gets overwhelmed, you don't just have delays; you have total gridlock.
That makes sense. So, if we are looking at someone with high executive function—the person who actually finishes their to-do list by noon—what is actually happening in their prefrontal cortex when they sit down to work?
Well, in a neurotypical brain with strong executive function, several things happen simultaneously. We usually break this down into seven core pillars. First, there is self-awareness, which is simply the ability to monitor what you are doing while you are doing it. Then there is inhibition, or impulse control. This is the ability to ignore the notification on your phone or the sudden urge to check the weather. Beyond that, you have non-verbal working memory—the ability to hold a mental map of your task—and verbal working memory, which is that internal monologue that talks you through a problem.
I definitely have that internal monologue, but sometimes it is just singing a song from a commercial I heard ten years ago instead of helping me work.
That is a classic breakdown of the verbal working memory! The other pillars are emotional regulation, self-motivation, and finally, planning and problem-solving. For someone with good executive function, these processes are almost invisible. They just feel like focused work. The brain provides the necessary activation energy to actually start a task, and it maintains a steady stream of dopamine to keep the engine running until the task is finished.
But for someone with ADHD, it is like those systems are constantly misfiring or just not communicating properly. It is not that they don't have an air traffic control tower; it is more like the tower has a spotty radio connection and the radar keeps glitching out.
Precisely. In an ADHD brain, the prefrontal cortex, which is the seat of these executive functions, often has lower levels of dopamine and norepinephrine. We talked about this back in episode eight hundred thirty-four when we looked at the chemistry of focus. Because those neurotransmitters are low, the brain's air traffic control tower is understaffed. It cannot effectively filter out the noise. So, instead of a clear priority list, every single stimulus—a bird outside, a new idea for a project, a slight feeling of hunger—all of them are screaming for attention with the same intensity. There is no volume knob for the world; everything is turned up to eleven.
This leads directly into what Daniel called task drift. I love that term. It is not just being distracted by something external; it is the internal drift where a new idea feels so much more compelling than the current task that you just sort of float away from what you were supposed to be doing. You don't even realize you have left the original task until you are forty-five minutes into a deep dive on the history of salt.
Task drift is a perfect description. Clinically, we might look at it as a failure of goal-directed persistence. In a neurotypical person, once a goal is set, the brain maintains a sort of internal tension that keeps you anchored to that goal. It is like a rubber band stretching from you to the finish line. But in ADHD, that anchor is very weak. The moment a new, high-dopamine idea enters the chat, the brain pivots. It is not that the person is lazy; it is that the brain is literally rewarding the pivot more than the persistence. The brain thinks, hey, this new idea about salt is interesting and provides immediate dopamine, whereas this spreadsheet provides zero dopamine and actually feels physically painful to look at.
I see this a lot in the tech world, and I know Daniel does too. You start out writing a piece of documentation, and then you realize you could automate the documentation process, and three hours later you are deep in a GitHub repository for a tool you did not even know existed, and the original document is still a blank page. You have technically been very productive, but you haven't done the thing you were actually supposed to do.
That is the classic ADHD trap. It is the pursuit of the novel over the necessary. And it is actually related to what we discussed in episode eight hundred thirty-three about the spiky profile. People with ADHD often have these incredible peaks of ability in areas of high interest, but deep valleys in executive function. So, when a new idea hits, it is usually in one of those high-interest zones. The brain says, oh, this is exciting, this is where we are talented, let's go there, rather than staying in the valley of the boring administrative task. It is a search for competence and stimulation in a world that often feels mundane.
So how do we bridge that gap? Daniel mentioned that a lot of the current tools feel too intrusive. He used the example of an artificial intelligence tool taking screenshots every thirty minutes to tell you that you are off task. I agree with him; that sounds like a nightmare. It creates this sense of shame and surveillance that usually backfires for neurodivergent people. If I know a computer is judging me, I am just going to get anxious, and anxiety is the ultimate executive function killer.
Oh, absolutely. Shame is the enemy of executive function. When you feel judged, your cortisol levels rise, which further impairs the prefrontal cortex. It is a vicious cycle. If a tool makes you feel like you are being watched by a disappointed boss, you are going to avoid using that tool entirely, or you will find clever ways to subvert it. We need solutions that act as a scaffold, not a prison. A scaffold is something you lean on while you build; a prison is something that keeps you trapped in a rigid structure.
I like that distinction. A scaffold helps you reach higher, but you are still the one doing the work. It supports the structure you are building. So, what does a non-intrusive scaffold look like in a technical sense? Especially now that we have better haptic tech and more subtle AI integration than we did even a year ago.
Well, we can look at things like ambient awareness and haptic feedback. Instead of a popup that says, stop what you are doing, you are failing, imagine a subtle light on your desk that shifts from green to a soft amber when it detects that you have moved away from your primary designated applications for more than ten minutes. It is not a command; it is a gentle nudge to the working memory. It says, hey, remember that goal we had? It is a visual cue that replaces the missing internal anchor.
That is interesting because it bypasses the shame and goes straight to the reminder function. It is basically an externalized version of that internal observer that is missing. It is like having a friend tap you on the shoulder and say, hey, weren't we talking about the budget?
Another approach is what some developers are calling low-resolution monitoring. Instead of screenshots, the system just monitors the category of activity. If you are a developer and you are suddenly in a browser looking at travel sites for forty minutes, the system could provide a small haptic pulse on a wearable device—like a smartwatch or even a haptic ring. It is a private, physical sensation that grounds you back in the physical world and prompts a moment of metacognition.
Metacognition being the ability to think about your own thinking. That is really the core of what is impaired in task drift, right? You lose the awareness that you have drifted until you are miles away from the shore. You are so deep in the salt history that you have forgotten you even have a job.
That is a great way to put it. People with strong executive function have a very active internal observer. They notice the drift almost immediately and pull themselves back. For someone with ADHD, that internal observer is often asleep on the job. So, the technology needs to gently wake up the observer without scolding them. It is about providing the signal that the brain isn't generating on its own.
I also think there is a lot of potential in how we structure our digital environments. We talk about this in the context of autonomous scheduling agents in episode four hundred fifty-nine. If the system knows your objectives for the day, it can help curate your environment. For example, if your objective is deep work on a specific project, your operating system could automatically hide any apps or browser tabs that are not tagged as relevant to that project. It is not that you cannot access them, but the friction of having to actively unhide them is often enough to stop the task drift before it starts.
Friction is a powerful tool. In the neurotypical world, we often try to remove all friction. We want everything to be one click away. But for the ADHD brain, intentional friction is a godsend. It gives the brain that extra two seconds to realize, oh, I am about to go down a rabbit hole, do I actually want to do this? It creates a choice point where there was previously just an impulse.
It is like putting a lid on the cookie jar. It does not stop you from eating the cookie, but it makes you aware that you are reaching for one. You have to hear the sound of the lid moving, and that sound is the cue to check in with yourself.
Precisely. And speaking of reaching for things, I think we also need to address the emotional component of task drift. Often, we drift because the task at hand is causing anxiety or boredom, both of which are physically uncomfortable for an ADHD brain. The drift is a search for relief. It is an escape mechanism.
That is a profound point. It is a form of self-medication through novelty. If I am bored with this spreadsheet, my brain will find something, anything, that provides a tiny hit of dopamine to make me feel better. The drift isn't a failure of will; it is a survival strategy for a brain that is starving for stimulation.
Right. So, a smart technical solution might not just track what you are doing, but also your physiological state. If your heart rate variability indicates rising stress or if your typing patterns show signs of frustration—like hitting the backspace key repeatedly or long pauses followed by rapid, erratic typing—the system could suggest a five-minute break or a change in task rather than just watching you drift into a three-hour distraction. It could say, hey, you seem frustrated, why don't we go for a walk or switch to that other project you were excited about?
Dorothy: Herman? Herman, bubbeleh, are you there?
Mum? Oh, Mum, I am actually in the middle of recording the show right now.
Dorothy: I know, I know, you are very busy with your computer things. I just wanted to remind you, I left that vegetable soup in the green Tupperware by your front door. You need to eat, Herman. You look thin in your profile picture. And don't forget to bring the Tupperware back, the one with the blue lid is missing and I think you have it.
Okay, Mum, I hear you. Soup in the green container, blue lid back to you. I will call you as soon as we finish, okay?
Dorothy: Okay, sweetheart. Give my love to Corn. Bye-bye.
Hi Dorothy! Always good to hear from you. And Herman, for the record, the soup is delicious, I had some earlier.
Of course you did. Sorry about that, everyone. My mother has a supernatural ability to know exactly when the microphones are live. It is like she has a sensor for when I am trying to be professional. Where were we?
We were talking about physiological state and how technology can intervene before the drift becomes a total derailment. It is interesting because that actually relates to the sensory tech we discussed in episode four hundred thirty-five. If we can use wearables to detect when the brain is becoming over-stimulated or under-stimulated, we can provide the right kind of intervention. Maybe it is a specific frequency of binaural beats or a change in the room's lighting temperature.
And the key here, going back to Daniel's point, is that it has to feel like it is on your side. It is about agency. The user should define the rules. If I tell my system, I want to work on this specific task for ninety minutes, and if I drift, I want a gentle vibration on my wrist, that is a choice I am making to support myself. It is very different from a company-mandated tracking software that is used for performance reviews. One is a tool for self-mastery; the other is a tool for exploitation.
That distinction is vital. It is the difference between a tool and a weapon. For a lot of neurodivergent people, technology has often been a source of distraction, but we are entering an era where it can be a source of regulation. We are seeing the rise of what people are calling neuro-inclusive design, where the software assumes the user might have fluctuating levels of focus.
I think we should look at the concept of the externalized brain. People with executive function challenges often rely on what we call prosthetic environments. They use lists, alarms, and physical cues to do what their brain cannot do automatically. What Daniel is asking for is a digital version of that prosthetic environment that is more sophisticated than a simple to-do list. He wants a digital prefrontal cortex that he can plug into when his own is struggling.
Right, because a to-do list is static. It does not know that you have been staring at the same line of code for forty minutes without typing anything. It does not know that you just opened a tab for a new mechanical keyboard you want to buy. It just sits there on the desk, mocking you with all the things you haven't done.
A dynamic executive function aid would understand the context. It would know that for you, opening a terminal is a work activity, but opening a shopping site is a drift activity. It could even offer what I call a parking lot for ideas. When that brilliant new project idea hits you in the middle of your work, the tool shouldn't just say no. It should say, that is a great idea, let's save it here in the parking lot so you don't lose it, and now let's get back to the current task.
That is such a simple but powerful feature. It acknowledges the value of the distraction. For someone with ADHD, the fear of forgetting a great idea is often what drives the need to pursue it immediately. If you can trust the system to hold that idea for you, the urgency dissipates. You can let go of the idea because you know it is safe.
Precisely. It reduces the cognitive load. You no longer have to use your limited working memory to hold onto that new idea while trying to finish your old one. You outsource the memory to the tool. This is actually a form of cognitive offloading that neurotypical people do all the time without thinking about it, but for someone with ADHD, it has to be more intentional. We have to build the systems that others take for granted.
Let's talk about the difference in productivity outcomes. If we have two people, one with high executive function and one with ADHD, and they both have the same goal. The neurotypical person might get it done in four hours of steady work. The person with ADHD might take eight hours, but four of those hours were spent in task drift, and the other four were spent in a state of hyperfocus where they actually did more work than the neurotypical person. The end result might be the same, but the path is totally different.
That is the irony of the ADHD productivity model. The total output can often be higher, but the process is incredibly taxing and unpredictable. It is a feast or famine cycle. The goal of these technical solutions isn't necessarily to make the ADHD person work like a neurotypical person. It is to reduce the friction and the exhaustion of the drift-and-return cycle. We want to make the feast more manageable and the famine less devastating.
So it is about smoothing out the spikes. Making the productivity more sustainable so they don't burn out from the sheer effort of constantly fighting their own brain. Because that manual override—constantly forcing yourself to focus—is what leads to that deep, soul-crushing fatigue at the end of the day.
Sustainability is the key word there. We see so many people with ADHD who are high achievers but are constantly on the edge of total collapse because their executive function is running on manual override all day every day. That is exhausting. It is like driving a car where you have to manually control the fuel injection and the timing of the spark plugs instead of just hitting the gas. That is my second analogy, and I think it illustrates the point perfectly. You can get the car to move, but you are going to be exhausted by the time you get to the grocery store.
I will allow it, especially since it hits on that feeling of manual labor that comes with focus for some people. So, Daniel's question about avoiding intrusive tech—we have talked about haptics, ambient light, and friction. What about the role of artificial intelligence in actually helping to break down tasks? Because often the drift starts because the task is just too big and scary.
This is where it gets really exciting. One of the biggest hurdles for executive function is the wall of awful, which we talked about in episode four hundred fifty-nine. It is that feeling of being overwhelmed by a large, vague task. The brain doesn't know where to start, so it just shuts down or drifts to something easy. An AI agent could take a prompt like, write the quarterly report, and instantly break it down into ten tiny, manageable steps. It takes away the executive burden of planning and sequencing.
And if the AI knows your history, it can even predict which steps are likely to cause you to drift. It might say, okay, for this step you need to go into the database, which usually distracts you with interesting data points, so I will pull the specific data for you and present it here so you don't have to leave the document. It is like a caddy in golf, handing you the right club so you don't have to go back to the bag and get distracted by the shiny new putter.
That is brilliant. That is proactive executive support. It is anticipating the cognitive pitfalls and building a bridge over them. It is not monitoring you; it is collaborating with you. It is acting as a sort of digital executive assistant that understands your specific neurobiology. It knows that your brain is a high-performance engine that sometimes has trouble with the starter motor.
I think that is the direction we need to go. Moving away from surveillance and toward partnership. Daniel, I think your instinct to avoid the Big Brother stuff is spot on. The best tech for this will be the stuff that feels like an extension of our own intention, not a supervisor looking over our shoulder. We want tools that empower us, not tools that police us.
I agree. And it is important to remember that these tools are not just for people with a diagnosis. In our modern, hyper-connected world, everyone's executive function is under assault. We are all living in an environment that is designed to trigger task drift. Notifications, infinite scrolls, clickbait—the entire attention economy is basically an anti-executive function machine. It is a billion-dollar industry designed to break your focus.
That is a scary but accurate thought. We are all becoming a little more ADHD because of our environment. Our brains are being rewired by the very tools we use to communicate and work. So these solutions, while vital for neurodivergent people, are actually going to be useful for everyone who wants to reclaim their focus and their time.
It is about cognitive sovereignty. The ability to decide where your attention goes and to have the tools to enforce that decision. Whether that is through haptic feedback, intentional friction, or AI-driven task decomposition, the goal is the same: to give the individual control over their own mental space. We are moving toward a future where we can customize our cognitive environment just as easily as we customize our physical one.
So, to summarize for Daniel and everyone else listening, executive function is the brain's management system, and in ADHD, that system is under-resourced, leading to task drift. But we can use technology to externalize those functions. The key is to use nudges rather than commands, friction rather than blocks, and partnership rather than surveillance. We need to build systems that respect our humanity and our neurodiversity.
And to always remember that a little bit of drift is part of the creative process. Sometimes the best ideas come from that accidental detour. The goal isn't to become a robot or a perfectly efficient machine. It is to make sure that the drift doesn't carry you so far away that you can't find your way back to what matters. It is about having a compass, not a leash.
Well said. This has been a deep dive, and I feel like we have only scratched the surface of how these tools might evolve. As we move further into twenty-six, I expect we will see even more innovative ways to support the human brain. If you want to dig deeper into the science of the ADHD brain, definitely go back and listen to episode eight hundred thirty-four. It provides the chemical context for everything we talked about today, including a deep dive into the role of the cerebellum.
And if you are struggling with the timing side of things, episode eight hundred thirty-three on the spiky profile and the neurodivergent time code is a great companion to this discussion. It really helps explain why five minutes can feel like an hour and vice versa. It is all about the internal perception of time, which is another key executive function.
Before we wrap up, I want to say a huge thank you to Daniel for this prompt. It is a topic that clearly resonates with us and our community. We have received so many emails lately about the struggle to stay focused in an increasingly fragmented world. If you are enjoying My Weird Prompts, we would really appreciate it if you could leave us a review on your podcast app or a rating on Spotify. It genuinely helps other people find the show and join the conversation.
It really does. We love seeing this community grow and hearing your stories. You can find all our past episodes, including the ones we mentioned today, at myweirdprompts.com. We have a full archive there, plus a contact form if you want to send us your own prompts. You can also reach us directly at show at myweirdprompts.com. We read every single message that comes in.
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It really is. Alright, I think I need to go find that soup before Corn finishes the whole container. I can already smell the carrots and celery from here. And I definitely need to find that blue lid for my mother, or I will never hear the end of it.
Good luck with that, Herman. Finding a specific Tupperware lid is the ultimate test of executive function. Thanks for listening, everyone. This has been My Weird Prompts. We will see you next time.
Bye everyone! Keep those prompts coming, and stay focused—or don't, just make sure you can find your way back!
