The average person carries enough ‘Cognitive Debt’ in their open browser tabs to power a three-year PhD.

It isn’t ‘research’ — it’s an identity crisis. Here is why your 50+ open tabs and 20,000 unread notes are killing your focus, and how to perform a Stoic Audit today.

The average person in 2025 carries enough “Cognitive Debt” in their open browser tabs to power a three-year PhD. We aren’t failing because we lack information; we’re failing because we’re haunted by it. To be totally honest, I probably would have 2 or 3 PhDs.

Take a look at the top of your screen right now. Not the page you’re reading, but the cluster of icons huddled together like refugees. There is a half-finished Masterclass on cinematography from 2023.

There is a “definitive guide” to AI agents you saved because you felt the cold breath of obsolescence on your neck. There are three tabs on “How to Start a Newsletter” and a lonely bookmark for a language app you swore you’d use to finally become the person who speaks Spanish at dinner parties.

We call these “resources.” But let’s be intellectually honest: Your browser tabs are a cemetery of the person you thought you’d be by now.

Every open loop is a ghost. Every “Save for Later” is a tiny monument to an aspirational version of yourself that you are currently failing to be. It’s time for a digital funeral.

The Catacombs: The Myth of the “Second Brain”

If your browser tabs are the fresh graves of your daily attention, your note-taking apps are the catacombs.

I recently looked at my own digital footprint. Between Obsidian, Apple Notes, Notability, and Evernote, I have over 20,000 notes. Twenty. Thousand.

To put that in perspective, I am a statistical anomaly. Data on user behavior suggests the average “active” user holds fewer than 500 notes. Even dedicated knowledge workers rarely pass 5,000.

When you cross the 10,000-note threshold, you are no longer “taking notes” — you are building a private Google that you never search. You have ceased to be a creator and have become a custodian of your own past.

These are articles clipped, recipes saved, book quotes highlighted, and business ideas drafted. I told myself I was building a “Second Brain.” I told myself I was being a responsible steward of information. But when I looked closer, I realized I wasn’t building a library; I was building a bunker.

Am I ever going to read them again? Statistically, no. So why do I keep them?

We keep these 20,000 notes because they soothe our anxiety. Saving a note feels like work, but it carries none of the emotional risk of creation. It is a hollow victory. We convince ourselves that if we just capture the information, we have learned it. But information sitting in Evernote is not knowledge — it is just data rotting in the dark.

The Invisible Tax: Why You Are Exhausted

In 1927, psychologist Bluma Zeigarnik noticed a phenomenon that explains your 3:00 PM brain fog. The Zeigarnik Effect proves our brains are hardwired to expend background energy on uncompleted tasks.

In the digital age, we don’t have unpaid dinner tabs; we have Cognitive Debt. Research from the University of California, Irvine, suggests it takes an average of 23 minutes and 15 seconds to regain deep focus after a distraction.

But “Cognitive Leakage” is subtler. Even when you aren’t looking at them, those 47 open tabs and 20,000 unread notes act like background processes on a laptop — silently draining your RAM, heating up your “processor,” and slowing down your ability to think original thoughts.

You aren’t “multitasking”; you are hemorrhaging your most valuable resource: presence.

“We are always complaining that our days are few, and acting as though there would be no end of them.” — Seneca

When we “Save for Later,” we are practicing a form of functional immortality. We act as if we have an infinite supply of “laters.” But Modern Stoicism reminds us of the Memento Mori: you are going to die, and your “Read Later” list is currently on track to outlive you.

The Vulnerable Truth: Information as Insurance

I’ll go first: My “Read Later” list was actually a “Feel Better” list.

Whenever I felt inadequate — like I wasn’t earning enough, or I wasn’t “tech-savvy” enough — I would find a high-level article on that topic and save it to Obsidian. The act of clicking “Save” triggered a hit of dopamine. For five seconds, I felt like I had solved the problem.

Information Minimalism teaches us that the fear of missing out on information is actually a fear of facing the present moment. Keeping it as a tab or a note allowed me to maintain the illusion of progress without the burden of action.

I wasn’t collecting knowledge; I was hoarding insurance policies against my own irrelevance. I was so busy preparing for a hypothetical future that I was absent from my actual life.

The 3-Step Stoic Audit

To reclaim your focus, you must perform a ruthless audit. This isn’t just about clicking the “X”; it’s about a psychological severance.

1. The Inventory (Face the Ghosts)

Look at your current tabs and your “Inbox” in your notes app. Not as “useful data,” but as debts.

• The Question: “Does this serve the person I am today, or the version of myself I was pretending to be six months ago?”
• The Action: Acknowledge the “Aspirational You” who wanted to learn to code in Python, thank them for their ambition, and delete the link.

2. The Ruthless Cut (Amor Fati)

Stoicism teaches Amor Fati — the love of fate. This means embracing your reality, including your limitations. You cannot be a master gardener, a crypto-trader, and a marathon runner all at once.

• The Rule: If you haven’t clicked it in 7 days, it’s not a resource; it’s a distraction. Use the One-Tab Rule: If you can’t read it now, it doesn’t exist.

3. The Deep Filter (Premeditatio Malorum)

Before you save anything new to your 20,000-note pile, perform a “Pre-meditation of Evils.”

• The Question: “If I never read this, what is the absolute worst thing that will happen?”
• The Reality: In 99% of cases, the answer is “Nothing.” You will simply have more space to breathe.

The “Cognitive Graveyard” Declutter Checklist

Copy this. Use it. Clear the air.

• [ ] The 24-Hour Tab Purge: Close every tab that has been open for more than 24 hours. (If it’s truly vital, you’ll find it in your history).
• [ ] The “Cold Storage” Maneuver: Go to your Note App (Evernote/Obsidian). Create a folder called “Archive 2025 and Prior.” Move all 20,000 notes into it. Start with a blank slate today. If you need a note, search the archive. If you don’t search for it in 6 months, delete the folder.
• [ ] Unsubscribe from the “Just in Case” Newsletters: If you haven’t opened the last three emails from a creator, hit unsubscribe. You aren’t “missing out”; you’re clearing the path.
• [ ] The “One-In, One-Out” Rule: You are allowed three “aspirational” tabs. To open a fourth, you must either read or delete one of the existing three.
• [ ] Schedule a Digital Sabbath: One day a week, no browser. No “saving.” Just being.

The Final Threshold

The most “productive” thing you can do today is admit that you are never going to read that article, and you are never going to review those 20,000 notes.

When I finally hit “Shift + Command + W” and closed all 64 tabs, I didn’t feel a loss of knowledge. By the way, I recommend you put this in your keyboard shortcuts for frequent use. I felt a massive, surging return of energy. The leakage stopped. The ghosts were gone.

Close the tab. Let the “Aspirational You” rest in peace. The “Actual You” has work to do.

The Debt Challenge: How many “ghosts” are currently haunting your browser and your notes app? Post your tab/note count in the comments and commit to one “funeral” today.

About the Author

I am a #1 international best-selling author and coach obsessed with helping you live with clarity and purpose. My work blends psychology, leadership, and heartfelt storytelling to help you slow down and reclaim your focus.

Whether I am writing books like The Magic of a Moment and Embracing Retirement, or speaking on stage, my goal is the same: to help you design a life that reflects who you truly want to become. Join me as we learn to notice the moments, choose intentional action, and step into the life we were meant to live.

Connect with me and discover more at garyfretwell.com.