The physics of attention: what you place between you matters
I have a rule in my office hours that students find strange at first:
Put your phone away. Not face-down on the table. Away. In your bag, your pocket, another room. Gone.
Laptops closed unless we're looking at something together.
Books and bags off the desk between us.
Nothing but space and attention.
"Why?" a student asked once, clearly annoyed. "I'm not even using it."
"Because," I said, "I want you to know you're the most important person in the world to me right now. And I can't show you that if there's a phone between us."
She paused. Then quietly put her phone in her backpack.
After our conversation, she said: "That's the first time a professor has talked to me without checking their phone. I actually felt like I mattered."
That broke my heart.
And made me more committed than ever to this practice.
The Physics of Distraction
Here's what research tells us, and what I've observed in 25 years of conversations:
The mere presence of a phone—even face-down, even silent—reduces the quality of conversation.
Not because you're using it. Because it's there.
Your brain knows it might buzz. Might light up. Might deliver something more interesting, more urgent, more important than the person in front of you.
The person in front of you knows this too.
And that knowledge changes everything.
What Your Phone Says
When your phone sits on the table during a conversation, here's the message it sends:
"You're important... but not as important as whoever might text me."
"I'm listening... but I'm also ready to be interrupted."
"You have my attention... for now."
We think we're being polite by leaving it face-down. "See? I'm not even looking at it!"
But the person across from you sees something else: an exit strategy. A backup plan. A signal that this conversation is conditional.
The Coaching Field
I learned this lesson on the track, not in a classroom.
Early in my coaching career, I'd stand on the field with my phone in my pocket. Athletes would come talk to me about their jumps, their fears, their struggles.
And sometimes—just sometimes—I'd glance at my phone. Just to check. Just in case.
You know what I noticed?
The athletes who saw me check my phone mid-conversation? They stopped opening up. They gave me surface-level answers. They saved their real questions for another time.
The message I'd sent was clear: You're not important enough to hold my full attention.
I put my phone in my bag after that. Left it in the office. Made a rule: when I'm with athletes, I'm WITH them.
Everything changed.
They trusted me with harder questions. Deeper fears. Real struggles.
Not because I became a better coach.
Because I removed the barrier that told them they weren't worth my full attention.
The Architecture of Listening
I call this "conversational architecture"—the physical structures we create that either support or sabotage real listening.
Bad architecture:
Phone on the table (even face-down)
Laptop open (even if you're "just taking notes")
Keys, wallet, or other fidget objects in your hands
Physical barriers (desk, table, bags) creating distance
Your body angled away, ready to leave
Good architecture:
Phone completely out of sight
Laptop closed or absent
Hands empty and visible
Clear space between you—nothing blocking eye contact
Body turned fully toward them
Posture that says: "I'm here. Nowhere else. Just here."
The physical space shapes the emotional space.
Clear the first, and you create room for the second.
The Student Who Felt Seen
Last semester, a student came to my office hours struggling with a class project. She was anxious, apologetic, talking fast.
I did my usual routine: phone in the drawer, laptop closed, clear desk, turned my chair toward her.
She noticed.
Mid-sentence, she stopped and said: "What are you doing?"
"Doing what?"
"Putting everything away. Looking at me like I'm the only person who exists."
"Because right now," I said, "you ARE the only person who exists. This moment is yours. And I want you to know that."
She teared up.
"No one's ever done that before," she said.
We spent the next 30 minutes working through her project. But the breakthrough wasn't academic.
It was human.
She felt seen. Valued. Worth someone's undivided attention.
The Practice
Here's your challenge for today: Have one conversation with ZERO distractions.
Before the conversation starts:
Put your phone in another room (yes, really)
Close your laptop
Clear the physical space between you
Remove anything you might fidget with
Turn your full body toward them
Then watch what happens.
Watch how they relax when they realize you're not going anywhere.
Watch how they go deeper when they trust they have your full attention.
Watch how the conversation transforms when nothing competes for your focus.
What You'll Learn
Here's what I've discovered over thousands of conversations, when you remove distractions, you don't just hear better. You connect better.
The other person feels it. They sense your presence. They trust you with more.
And you? You actually experience the conversation instead of managing it while monitoring six other things.
You remember what they said. You notice their body language. You hear what they're NOT saying. You're actually there.
The Most Important Person
My students sometimes ask: "But what if there's an emergency?"
Here's what I tell them:
For the next 15 minutes, this person IS the emergency.
Their struggle. Their question. Their need to be heard.
That's the emergency you're responding to.
Everything else can wait.
And if it can't? You tell them upfront: "I have 15 minutes before I need to check on something. For these 15 minutes, you have my complete attention."
Honesty + presence = trust.
The Invitation
Today, make someone feel like the most important person in the world.
Not through your words.
Through your attention.
Clear the space. Remove the barriers. Be fully present.
Watch what happens when someone feels truly seen.
It might be the most important conversation they have all week.
Tomorrow: "Listening Lesson #5: Lean In (The Body Language of Listening)"
When was the last time someone gave you their complete, undivided attention? How did it feel?
Dr. Tom Lobaugh teaches communication, listening, and ethics at Boise State University, coached high school track and field for 20 years, and is completing his PhD in Psychology with an emphasis in Performance. Learn more at tomlobaugh.com