Information overload is usually described as a volume problem: too much arriving, too fast, from too many directions. That framing suggests the answer is to consume less, which is why most advice about it is a variation on unsubscribing.
It is more useful to think of it as a closure problem. The weight is not the reading. It is the number of things you have half-started and not resolved: twenty open tabs, six unanswered messages, four articles you are saving because they might be relevant, and no record of why any of them mattered.
Volume alone is not the problem
You can read a great deal in a day and finish it feeling fine. You can also read three articles and feel buried. The difference is not the word count.
What makes the difference is what is left open afterwards. An article you read, took one line from, and closed costs almost nothing. An article you skimmed, thought "there's something in this", and left in a tab costs you every time you look at the tab bar for the rest of the week.
The open tab is not information. It is an unmade decision wearing information's clothes.
Where the weight actually accumulates
Look at the places overload really lives and they are all the same shape:
- Tabs you cannot close because you have not extracted the point.
- Read-later apps that have become archives of intentions.
- Bookmarks with no note about why you saved them.
- Messages you have read and not answered, which your brain scores as outstanding.
- Half-formed thoughts about all of the above, held in memory because there is nowhere to put them.
None of these is caused by the quantity of information in the world. They are caused by the gap between encountering something and deciding what it means to you.
Close the loop in one sentence
The intervention is small and slightly boring: when something is worth keeping, write down what is worth keeping about it, then close the thing.
One sentence is enough. "This has the numbers for the Q3 comparison." "This is the argument against the approach we picked." "This is just interesting, no use for it."
That sentence does three jobs at once. It forces the decision you were deferring. It makes the item findable later by the thing you actually cared about. And it lets you close the tab without the nagging sense that you are losing something.
Saving a link without it is not capture. It is postponement with a nicer interface. Which is why read-later apps fill up: the save feels like a decision and is not one.
Then let most of it go
The other half is permission. Most of what you encounter does not need to be kept, and treating everything as potentially useful is what produces the pile.
A working ratio for anything you save: most of it gets deleted at review, some of it gets used within a week, a little becomes reference. If almost nothing in your saved pile is ever deleted, you are not reviewing it. You are accumulating.
Deleting is the healthy outcome, not the failure state.
Where Capture fits
The one-sentence habit only works if writing that sentence is faster than leaving the tab open. Capture is one always-open field on iPhone, iPad, Mac, Apple Watch and Apple Vision Pro, with nothing to file at the moment of writing.
Links come in the same gesture (the share sheet from any app, or the Safari extension for the page you are on), so the link and your one line about it land together in the same inbox. On the Mac a keyboard shortcut opens the field over whatever you are reading.
At review, each item gets an outcome and leaves. Readwise Reader, Instapaper, Raindrop, Obsidian and Notion are among its 59 destinations, so the ones worth keeping go to the place you actually read or write, and the rest get deleted.
Start with the tab bar
If you want a concrete first move, do this once: go through your open tabs, and for each one write a single line about why it is open, then close it.
Most will turn out to have no answer, which is the point. The ones that do have an answer are now recorded in a form you can use, and the number of things quietly demanding attention drops by a lot more than the reading time you saved.
The same discipline applied to links is covered in how to save links you'll actually come back to.