25. The Science of Clutter: Cognitive Load & Attention | Why Our Minds Need Space

In this episode of Mohivate, Dr Mohi Sarawgee explores the science of clutter and how the environments we live in influence attention, stress, and decision making.

Research in neuroscience and behavioural psychology shows that visual clutter increases cognitive load and forces the brain to work harder to filter information. Over time this can contribute to mental fatigue, distraction, and decision fatigue.

The episode examines how clutter interacts with attention regulation, stress physiology, eating behaviour, and everyday habits. It also looks at why the spaces people live in matter clinically, influencing safety, mobility, and how health behaviours unfold at home.

Set within the wider context of modern life and information overload, this conversation invites listeners to reconsider their surroundings and the role physical space plays in supporting clarity, focus, and wellbeing.

References:

1. Visual clutter and attention (Princeton Neuroscience Institute); McMains S., Kastner S. (2011)

https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/21228167/

Princeton Neuroscience Institute explanation of visual competition:

https://ipalab.princeton.edu/document/296 

2. Clutter and stress hormones (UCLA “Life at Home” study): Saxbe, D. E., & Repetti, R. L. (2010)

https://doi.org/10.1177/0146167209352864

PDF:https://repettilab.psych.ucla.edu/wp-content/uploads/sites/302/2023/03/no-place-like-home.pdf 

3. Cluttered environments and eating behaviour (Cornell study): Vartanian, L. R., Kernan, K. M., & Wansink, B. (2016)

https://doi.org/10.1177/0013916516628178

4. Cognitive load theory: Sweller, J. (1988)

https://doi.org/10.1207/s15516709cog1202_4

5. Behavioural activation and small task completion: Dimidjian, S. et al. (2011)

https://doi.org/10.1016/j.cpr.2011.02.003

6.Indoor allergens and respiratory health: Arshad, S. H. (2010)

https://doi.org/10.1016/j.jaci.2010.10.007

Just a gentle reminder: this episode is for information, education, and inspiration only. It’s not a substitute for your doctor’s advice. For any personal health concerns, always seek guidance from your doctor.

Transcript

SPEAKER_00 0:04

Hi everyone, welcome back to Mohivate. I'm Dr. Mohi Saraugi, a GP by profession, but here I'm swapping prescriptions for perspective. How is everyone doing? We are already in March, and I'm not quite sure where the first two months went. The year seems to have gathered pace without asking any of us for permission. Spring has always carried the idea of renewal. The days are a little longer, the light lingers in the evening, and there is that familiar sense that the year is opening up again. Which is exactly why this felt like the right time for today's conversation. Because spring has long been a season that invites people to clear, reset, and begin again. But at the same time, the world right now feels heavy. Every time you open the news, there's another crisis, another conflict, another headline that makes you pause before you have even finished your morning coffee. And it raises an interesting question about modern life. How much information is the human brain actually designed to carry? 200 years ago, most people probably worried about their village, their crops, their family, the people they saw every day. Now we carry the emotional weight of the entire planet in our pockets. Within minutes of waking up, we know about conflicts across continents, economic crisis, political speeches, and thousands of opinions about all of them. And sometimes, watching global politics as a doctor, I find myself thinking about the physiology of judgment. Because stress, fatigue, and aging influence every human brain. Power does not make the brain immune to biology. When the world feels overwhelming, many people respond in a very specific way. They absorb everything, every headline, every argument, every opinion. After a while, the brain simply reaches its limit. What follows is mental exhaustion and overthinking. At that point, I often ask myself something simple, and today I want to ask you the same question. How much of what you are worrying about right now is actually affecting your immediate life? This is not about ignoring the world. Awareness matters and doing our bit matters too. But discernment matters just as much. Some things sit within our circle of influence, things we can act on, shape, or improve. Other things sit far beyond our control. When the brain carries too many things at once, it fills with more and more unfinished concern and begins to behave in a familiar way. It starts to resemble a house filled with too many objects. Every surface occupied, every corner holding something. In other words, it becomes cluttered. And interestingly, clutter doesn't just affect the space around us. It changes how the brain functions as well. And that brings us to today's episode. Today we are talking about decluttering, not colour-coded wardrobes or Instagram minimalism, but the medical science of clutter, how it affects the brain and the body, and why one of the most powerful health interventions sometimes begins with something very simple: clearing a single surface in your home. One small truth before we start if owning more things made people happier, the happiest place on earth would probably be an Amazon warehouse. Medicine, however, tells a slightly different story. So let's begin. When we talk about decluttering, most people think about aesthetics, tidy homes, organized shelves, minimalist spaces. But from a medical perspective, something far more interesting is happening. As doctors, we spend a lot of time talking about diet, exercise, and sleep. We talk far less about environments people live in every single day. And yet, the brain is constantly interacting with those environments. Every object in your surroundings sends a signal to your brain. Some signals are useful, many are simply noise. The brain has to filter. The filtering process uses cognitive energy. Over time, the number of objects in a space can begin to influence how easily the brain can focus. Researchers studying visual perception describe something called visual competition, which means when we look at a space, the brain doesn't calmly process objects one by one. Instead, multiple stimuli compete for attention at the same time. In a simple environment, say a desk with a laptop and a notebook, the brain quickly identifies the relevant object and suppresses the rest. But in a cluttered environment filled with papers, cables, mugs, books, and random objects, the brain has to work much harder to filter what is important. The prefrontal cortex, the area behind the forehead involved in planning, focus, and decision making, steps in to suppress distractions so you can concentrate on the task in front of you, which means fewer cognitive resources remain available for the task itself. Think of it like trying to have a conversation in a room where 20 people are speaking at the same time. This connects to another concept, cognitive load. Every visible object becomes a small piece of information the brain must process or ignore. A desk with five objects is easy for the brain to scan. A desk with 50 objects forces the brain to constantly decide: do I need this? Should I move this? Is this important? Each tiny decision adds up and contributes to something called decision fatigue. The more micro decisions the brain makes throughout the day, the more mentally tired it becomes. And mental fatigue often shows up in small ways. Distraction, frustration, or that slightly irritable feeling many people recognize. Which is why people often report something very simple after clearing a workspace. They say, I can think more clearly. And interestingly, that feeling has a real neurological basis. Now imagine opening lots of apps on your phone during the day. Messages, email, maps, music, photos. You may not be actively using all of them, but they remain open in the background, consuming processing power and battery. After a while, the phone begins to slow down. Our brain behaves in a surprisingly similar way. Every unfinished task, every visible pile of papers, every object waiting to be sorted becomes a kind of background process. Individually, they seem insignificant. Collectively, they consume cognitive resources. Decluttering, in many ways, is the equivalent of closing a few background apps for your brain. Over the past decade, decluttering has entered popular culture largely through the work of Marie Condo and her famous question Does this object spark joy? Although I suspect most of us still have at least one drawer in the house that definitely does not spark joy. Usually the one containing a collection of mysterious cables that belong to devices we no longer own. Speaking of decluttering, I should probably confess something. A few years ago, my mother moved cities and we had to clear out our ancestral home. The house had objects from several generations: utensils, vessels, things that had survived decades. And at that moment, I was in full Marie Kondo mode. In fact, I sometimes joke that if medicine ever becomes too stressful, my retirement plan might simply be to open a decluttering company. My mother, slightly overwhelmed by the move, trusted my judgment and together we gave away an enormous number of things. For months afterwards, she would suddenly remember something and say, You made me throw that. And to be fair, she was probably right. At one point, I decided I wanted to buy two bronze dinner plates for myself. I had suddenly become very fascinated with brass and bronze utensils. My mother looked at me and said, We had all of those things cookware, dinnerware, and you made me give them away. Anyway, we went to the shop to buy them. And very proudly, she announced to the shopkeeper that we had come to buy something our family had owned for generations until I made her give it away. Then, while I was finalizing the purchase, she said very loudly, You do know this will break if it falls down. Which I suspect was her gentle way of getting back at me. I replied, Don't worry, even glass breaks if it falls down. To this day, she still reminds me that I made her throw away important things. Although, in my defense, the new home was much smaller, and that's really the point. Decluttering doesn't mean throwing away everything with sentimental value. Most homes contain objects that carry memories, clothes, photographs, family heirlooms, keepsakes. The goal is not to eliminate those things, it's to organize them intentionally. Some people create memory boxes or keep a shelf for sentimental items. The basic idea is simple. When everything has a place, the environment becomes easier for the brain to navigate. Time isn't lost searching for things that should have been simple to locate. And gradually something else appears. Space, not just physical space, but cognitive space. Sometimes decluttering is not only about removing what is no longer needed. It's also about creating room physically and mentally for what comes next. It doesn't have to look like a perfectly color-coded television show. It just needs to make sense for the people living in that space. But from a medical perspective, the benefits of decluttering extend far beyond emotional satisfaction. The environment around us influences attention, behavior, and even how the brain processes information. And this becomes even more relevant for people living with attention deficit hyperactivity disorder or ADHD. For individuals living with ADHD, every visible object can act as a potential attention trigger. When a space contains many competing stimuli, the brain has to work harder to maintain focus. For some people, simplifying the environment is not about aesthetics at all, but a form of cognitive support. Fewer visual stimuli mean fewer distractions competing for the brain's attention. This also connects to what we broadly describe today as neurodiversity. People who process sensory information differently, including individuals with ADHD, autism spectrum conditions, or other neurodivergent traits, often experience their environments more intensely. Visual clutter becomes another layer of sensory input, which can lead to distraction, cognitive overload, or difficulty organizing tasks. Which is why structured environments and predictable spaces can be very supportive. Not because everything has to look perfect, but because clarity in the environment reduces the amount of information the brain has to filter. From a child development perspective, environments also shape habits early in life. Children learn organization not only through instructions but through observation and repetition. When toys, books, and school items have clear places to return to, children gradually learn how to structure their own spaces. Also learning how to sort, donate or let go of things that are no longer used is a valuable life skill. In many ways, it teaches decision making, responsibility, and the ability to move forward without holding on to everything from the past. Clutter also interacts with another familiar human behavior, procrastination. When a task feels large or undefined, the brain delays starting it. The unfinished tasks remain visible and the sense of overwhelm slowly grows. Psychologists describe a related phenomenon called attentional residue. When we begin a task and leave it unfinished, part of our attention remains attached to it. Even after we move on to something else, a small portion of the brain continues to think about the unfinished activity. Now imagine a home environment where multiple unfinished tasks remain visible. Papers waiting to be sorted, laundry waiting to be folded, objects waiting to be organized. Each one becomes a visual reminder of an incomplete task. Individually, the effect is small. Collectively, it creates a constant background drain on mental focus. It's a bit like having 10 browser tabs open in the background of your mind, which is why something very small can create surprising momentum. Clearing the hallway chair where things pile up, a desk or dining table covered with papers. The brain receives a signal that something has been completed, and suddenly the next task begins to feel easier to start. This idea overlaps with behavioral activation in cognitive behavioral therapy, where small achievable actions help break cycles of avoidance. Organizing one's shelf can do more than tidy a space. It can help the brain re-enter a cycle of action. Research actually shows that clutter can influence the body in measurable ways as well. One of the most interesting studies came from the UCLA Life at Home Project, where researchers observed families in their homes and measured stress hormones, particularly cortisol. Under normal circumstances, cortisol follows a predictable rhythm. It rises in the morning to help us wake up and gradually declines throughout the day. In homes described as organized, cortisol patterns follow this normal physiology. In homes described as cluttered or chaotic, cortisol levels tended to remain elevated for longer. In other words, when people say clutter makes them feel stressed, there can sometimes be measurable biology behind that feeling. Researchers at Cornell University ran an experiment comparing tidy kitchens with deliberately chaotic ones. Participants in both environments were offered the same snacks. Interestingly, those sitting in the cluttered kitchen consumed significantly more snack food, particularly high calorie options like cookies. Chaotic environments tend to increase stress and reduce the sense of control. When that happens, the brain often shifts toward reward-seeking behavior. Usually, quick comfort foods like sugar or processed snacks. Sometimes improving eating habits begins with something surprisingly simple, clearing the kitchen counter. There's another behavioral concept worth mentioning here: choice overload. When the brain faces too many options, decision making becomes slower and harder. Which is why someone can stand in front of a wardrobe full of clothes and still feel like they have nothing to wear, or open a cupboard full of kitchen gadgets and still end up ordering takeaway. Too many choices increase decision fatigue and clutter multiplies those choices. Interestingly, clutter can even influence relationships. Studies of household environments show that clutter is a surprisingly common source of tension between partners because objects gradually stop being just objects. They start representing effort, fairness, shared responsibility, and sometimes exhaustion at the end of a long week. A pile of laundry may represent exhaustion, which is why many households eventually develop a familiar dynamic. The person who says we should keep this just in case, and the person who says if we haven't used it in three years, it's leaving the house today. At this point, it's worth making an important distinction because while clutter is something most of us experience from time to time, and to be honest, some days even my own flat can resemble a railway station platform. There is a very different condition that doctors sometimes encounter. Hoarding. Hoarding disorder is recognized in psychiatry and involves persistent difficulty discarding possessions, a strong need to save them, and significant distress when trying to let them go. Over time, possessions accumulate to the point that rooms become difficult to use, walking paths narrow, and daily living spaces become congested. Objects begin to represent security, identity, memories, sometimes even relationships, which is why simply telling someone to throw things away rarely addresses the real issue. I remember encountering this properly for the first time when I was working as a resident doctor in a frailty unit. An occupational therapist had just visited a patient's home to assess mobility support, and the report was clear. Before any equipment could be installed, the home itself needed clearing. There simply wasn't enough space to move or even walk safely. During the wardround, the consultant turned to me and another resident and asked, What term do we use for people who love collecting things? My colleague was pulled away by a call, so the question landed with me. I said, hoarding. The consultant just said, no, there's a specific term for it. Find out and tell me tomorrow. So that evening I went down a full research rabbit hole, textbooks, Google, messaging friends, and every single source gave the same answer. Hoarding. The next morning I admitted defeat and asked him what the correct term actually was. And he replied, hoarding. To this day, I'm still not entirely sure whether that was a teaching moment or just the mysterious logic of wardrounds. But somehow I've never forgotten that moment. Experiences like that also explain why doctors, particularly GPs and geriatricians, often pay close attention to the environments people live in. Because the home environment shapes health in ways that never appear on a blood test or a scan. During home visits, you notice things immediately. Objects left on stairs. Narrow walking paths, stacks of paper or clutter that make it difficult to move safely. For older adults living with frailty, these details matter enormously. Falls remain one of the leading causes of injury in aging populations. A clear walking path from the bedroom to the bathroom at night can be the difference between safety and a fractured hip. For people living with dementia, clutter can also increase confusion. Important items become harder to locate and walking routes become less obvious. Even physical health can be affected. Cluttered spaces tend to collect dust and allergens more easily, which can worsen conditions like asthma or allergic rhinitis. Something many people recognize very quickly. So when doctors talk about decluttering, we are not judging anyone's home. We are recognizing that the environment people live in can influence their health, safety, and independence every single day. Home visits also show how medications are actually being used or sometimes not used at all. I remember one visit where the patient had six full boxes of symvestatin completely untouched. Symvestin is a cholesterol-lowering medication. The patient hadn't been taking them at all, but prescriptions had continued to be issued. I took the boxes back to the pharmacy, hoping they could be reused. But once medicines leave a pharmacy in the UK, they cannot be returned to stock, even if they are unopened, because there's no way to guarantee how they were stored. So all six boxes had to be discarded. Moments like that tell you about several things at once. The patient may not fully understand the medication. The system may have missed an opportunity for medication review, and the home environment becomes part of the clinical story. Medicine does not only happen in clinics and hospitals, it happens in kitchens, bedrooms, and living rooms. So before we end today's episode, let me leave you with a few simple things you might try. If you are thinking about decluttering, start small. Not the entire house, not an entire room. One drawer, one shelf, one surface. Empty it out completely. Seeing everything at once often changes how we think about what we actually need. Small actions create momentum and the brain loves completed tasks. Decluttering also applies to habits. Choose one that drains your time or clutters your attention. Change one thing and notice what shifts. And finally, if you have children around you, your own nieces, nephews, students, involve them, not as a rule, but as a life skill. And we already discussed learning how to sort, donate, and let go of things that are no longer used is really about learning decision making and about understanding that making space in life sometimes allows something new to enter. So if you take one idea from today, let it be this decluttering isn't really about owning less, it's about creating environments that support the way our minds and bodies actually function. And perhaps that's why spring has always felt like the season of clearing, making room for clarity, calm, and sometimes to welcome something new. I hope something today stirred a thought, gave you a smile, or simply made you pause. This is our 25th episode, and I couldn't be happier that we are marking it with one of my favourite topics. Thank you for listening. I am Dr. Mohi. Until next time, remember sometimes coming home to yourself is simply about making space. Space to think, space to breathe, and space to begin again.