From the book:

While collecting her thoughts after Phil’s multitasking exercise, something caught Sally’s attention outside. “I think I’m witnessing a perfect example of what you’re talking about right now. Look out the window.”

Helen and Phil turned to look where Sally was staring. Through Helen’s second-story office window, they had a perfect view of the first-floor office area.

A young man wearing a T-shirt from a local college was standing next to a seated female co-worker. To Phil, it looked as if he was trying to share something very important with his coworker.

“Look at Tracy,” Sally said, pointing out of the window. Tracy the coworker was attempting to focus on her computer monitor―probably a company report―while attempting to give half an ear to the man standing next to her. “Is she even listening to Jason?”

“Jason’s one of our interns,” Helen explained to Phil. “He does good work, but he can be a little overeager sometimes. Tracy is his supervisor.”

Jason continued to speak enthusiastically, and Tracy nodded in response without ever turning away from her computer screen.

“Oh! Look!” Sally said excitedly. “Now she’s walking away to take a call on her cell!”

Jason stood there, hovering in mid-sentence, as he watched Tracy walk away. He dropped his arms in discouragement, shook his head, and shuffled away.

“Poor Jason-the-intern,” Sally said sympathetically. Helen glanced at Sally, and Phil caught the look of doubt on her face.

As the scene downstairs finished, Phil spoke softly. “It’s bad enough losing efficiency and effectiveness when we try to multitask. But when multitasking―switchtasking―involves another person, the costs are deeper.

“People deserve our full attention, whether at home or at work. When we give them only partial, piecemeal attention, the switching costs extend to damaging relationships.

“Moments like you just saw make people feel unimportant. They tell me this all the time.”

“I want people at GreenGarb to feel like they matter,” Helen offered.

Phil nodded. “I can tell you do. And when you focus on them, they feel that. But when you don’t focus on them, it’s the equivalent of seeing someone and saying, ‘Hi, you’re unimportant.’”

Sally chortled. “We’d never do that!”

“Of course not,” Phil replied. “But―”

“But we do that, don’t we?” Helen said. “All the time.”

Phil paused. Both women looked very deep in thought, and he gave them space to take in the moment.

Sally was the first to break the silence. “I have to admit, I need to work on this. I have a tough time giving people my undivided attention.”

Phil smiled encouragingly. “We’ve all done it, Sally. And we’ll continue doing it as long as multitasking―switchtasking―is seen as acceptable.

“The message is this: when someone says they’re ‘good at multitasking,’ they’re really saying they’re inefficient. It’s like publicly admitting you’re going to make it a habit to screw up multiple things at the same time.

“And, ironically, people who consider themselves great at multitasking are statistically more likely to be the worst at it.

“It doesn’t matter how effective you think you are at switchtasking. When you do it, you will take longer getting things done and hurt relationships in the process. Whenever possible, it’s better to focus on one activity―and one person―at a time.”