Mark: Most people think of ADHD as a deficit—a problem with focus, a bug in the system. But what if the most successful innovators, from Edison to da Vinci, weren't just successful despite their scattered brains, but because of them? What if it's actually a secret weapon? Michelle: Yeah, my first thought is definitely 'disorder,' not 'superpower.' When I hear ADHD, I think of struggling students or chaotic desks, not world-changing geniuses. It sounds like a pretty radical reframing. Mark: It is. And it’s the central idea in a book that’s really resonated with a lot of people. Today we’re diving into Faster Than Normal: Turbocharge Your Focus, Productivity, and Success with the Secrets of the ADHD Brain by Peter Shankman. Michelle: And what’s fascinating about Shankman is that he isn't a clinician or a researcher. He's a massively successful media entrepreneur, a licensed skydiver, an Ironman triathlete—who attributes all of his success to his ADHD. That's a pretty bold claim to make. Mark: It is, and he makes it with zero apology. He argues that the very things that make the ADHD brain a challenge in a structured, 9-to-5 world are the same things that make it an engine for innovation and high performance. Michelle: Okay, I’m intrigued. But I’m also skeptical. Let’s see if he can convince me.

Mark: So, Shankman's entire philosophy starts with this radical reframing. He wants you to stop thinking of the ADHD brain as broken. Instead, he uses this fantastic metaphor: the fire hose. Michelle: A fire hose? How does that work? Mark: Imagine a fire hose that’s just been turned on full blast, with no one holding it. It’s whipping around wildly, spraying water everywhere—it's pure chaos, destructive even. That’s the unmanaged ADHD brain. Ideas, energy, impulses are flying out in every direction with no control. Michelle: I can definitely picture that. It sounds exhausting and unproductive. Mark: Exactly. But now, imagine two firefighters grabbing that hose, planting their feet, and aiming it. Suddenly, that chaotic force becomes an incredibly powerful tool. It can put out a massive fire, break down a door. The power was always there; it just needed to be harnessed. Shankman argues the ADHD brain is that fire hose. The world tells you to turn down the pressure, but he says, no, learn how to aim it. Michelle: Okay, I get the metaphor, and it’s a powerful image. But for people who are genuinely struggling to pay their bills or keep a job because of their ADHD, calling it a 'superpower' can feel a bit dismissive. The book has been praised for its positive message, but some readers and critics point out that it's very anecdotal and might oversimplify the real-world struggles. How does he square that circle? Mark: That’s a fair and important critique, and he doesn't ignore the downsides. He shares a story about a painful breakup that was a direct result of his undiagnosed ADHD—his girlfriend felt completely ignored because he was always mentally somewhere else. His point is that the "superpower" potential is only unlocked when you understand the brain's unique mechanics. And his best example of this is skydiving. Michelle: Skydiving? You mean he literally jumps out of planes to manage his focus? Mark: He does. He has over 400 jumps. He explains that the ADHD brain is chronically under-stimulated. It's constantly seeking a hit of dopamine, adrenaline, and serotonin—the "focus and happy" chemicals. Most office jobs don't provide that. But standing at the open door of an airplane at 13,000 feet? His brain goes into survival mode and floods his system with exactly those chemicals. Michelle: Wow. So it’s a biological hack. Mark: A very extreme one, yes. But the result is that after he lands, he has several hours of what he calls "bulletproof" focus. He can sit down and write an entire book chapter, answer hundreds of emails, and record videos. He famously wrote one of his bestselling books on a round-trip flight to Tokyo. He flew there, got off the plane, turned around, and flew right back, writing the entire time because the airplane was a distraction-free zone that forced his brain to lock in. Michelle: That’s incredible. So it's not about ignoring the downsides, but about finding the right 'on' switch? For him it's jumping out of a plane, but for someone else it might be a tight deadline, a public speaking gig, or a creative crisis? Mark: Exactly. It's about understanding that the brain is optimized for high-stakes, high-interest situations, not for quietly filling out spreadsheets. That’s why he argues so many entrepreneurs, artists, and emergency responders thrive with this brain type. They're in environments that naturally play to the brain's strengths. The problem isn't the brain; it's the mismatch between the brain and a world that demands quiet conformity. Michelle: So the first step is to stop seeing it as a flaw and start seeing it as a different kind of engine. A race car engine, maybe. Mark: A perfect analogy. And if you have a race car engine, you can't treat it like a minivan. You need a different set of rules to operate it.

Michelle: That makes sense. If you have this high-performance engine, you can't just drop it into any old car. You need a specific 'operating system' to run it. What are the rules for that? Mark: Shankman lays out what he calls "Undeniable Life Rules." They’re non-negotiable. And the most important, most counter-intuitive one is this: Eliminate Choice. Michelle: Eliminate choice? That sounds awful. It sounds so restrictive, like you're taking away freedom. How does that work in real life without feeling like you're in a prison of your own making? Mark: It feels counter-intuitive, but he argues that for the ADHD brain, too many choices lead to paralysis. He calls it "analysis paralysis." He gives the example of his closet. If he opens a closet full of clothes, his brain doesn't just see shirts. It sees the shirt he wore on a great date, the sweater from a terrible business meeting, the t-shirt that needs to be washed... and suddenly, instead of getting dressed, he's lost in thought or deciding to do laundry. Michelle: Oh, I’ve been there. The simple act of picking an outfit becomes a 20-minute emotional journey. Mark: Exactly. So his solution? He owns seven identical black t-shirts, a few pairs of jeans, and a couple of blazers. The decision is already made. He saves all that mental energy for things that actually matter. He applies the same logic to his travel. When he speaks in Las Vegas—a city he considers a massive trigger for bad decisions—he has a rider in his contract. Michelle: A contract rider? Like for a rock star demanding only green M&Ms? Mark: Pretty much. His rider states he will only do a lunchtime keynote, and his flight out must be no more than eight hours after his flight in. He eliminates the choice to stay overnight, wander the casino, or get into trouble. He lands, speaks, and leaves. He removes the possibility of failure by removing the choice. Michelle: Okay, so it’s about being brutally honest with yourself about your weaknesses and building systems to protect yourself from them. What about something more universal, like food? Mark: Great question. He tells a story about how he loves pizza, but he’s incapable of eating just one or two slices. If there's a pizza in his apartment, he will eat the entire thing. His neighbor, who doesn't have ADHD, can't comprehend this. The neighbor sees free will as being able to choose to stop. Shankman sees his free will as the ability to choose not to have the pizza in his apartment in the first place. Michelle: That’s a really sharp distinction. It’s about controlling your environment, not your willpower in the moment. Mark: Precisely. And he has a simple tool for this called "The Apple Test." When he feels a craving to procrastinate by eating junk food, he asks himself one question: "Am I hungry enough to eat an apple?" If the answer is no, he knows it's not real hunger. It's his brain craving a dopamine hit from sugar or fat. So instead, he'll do ten push-ups or walk around the block to get a different kind of chemical release. Michelle: I love that. It’s so simple and practical. I can see how that's not a prison, it's a relief. The 'what's for dinner' debate every night is exhausting. Automating that with a meal plan isn't a restriction, it's freeing up mental space for bigger things. Mark: And that's the core of his operating system. The other rules build on this: intense exercise to generate focus chemicals, clean eating to avoid brain fog, and prioritizing sleep because a tired ADHD brain is an unfocused one. It's all about creating an environment where the 'fire hose' is aimed by default, not left to chance.

Mark: And that's the synthesis, really. It's a two-part system that he lays out. First, you have to fundamentally change your belief system. Your brain isn't broken—it's just different. It's a race car, not a sedan. You have to stop trying to make it act like a sedan. Michelle: But a race car needs specific fuel, a specific track, and a skilled driver. You can't just take it to the grocery store and expect it to run well. The 'rules'—eliminating choice, exercise, diet—that's the track and the fuel. They are the non-negotiable conditions for high performance. Mark: Exactly. It's about accepting the hardware you were born with and then building the perfect software and environment around it. It’s a message of empowerment through self-awareness and discipline, not a message of trying to 'cure' yourself. Michelle: And it seems like this message has really struck a chord. The book is highly rated, especially within the ADHD community, because it offers hope and a practical path forward, even if it is based on one man's very specific, high-energy life. Mark: It has. And Shankman's final message in the book, especially to parents, is incredibly powerful. He writes, in all caps, "PLEASE BELIEVE ME: YOUR CHILDREN ARE NOT BROKEN. THEY ARE FASTER THAN NORMAL. AND WHEN THEY LEARN TO TREAT THEMSELVES WITH THE RESPECT THAT THEY DESERVE, ALL THE AWESOME POWER OF THEIR ADHD WILL BE THEIRS FOR THE TAKING." Michelle: Wow. That gives me chills. It reframes the entire conversation from managing a deficit to nurturing a gift. Mark: The whole point is to stop trying to 'fix' the brain and start building a life that allows it to fly. He tells a beautiful story from when he was twelve. His grandfather had passed away, and his father, a devout Jew, needed to say the Kaddish prayer, which requires a minyan—a group of ten Jewish men. They were on a train, and his father was sad he'd miss the prayer. Michelle: And what happened? Mark: Twelve-year-old Peter just saw a problem to be solved. He walked the entire length of the Amtrak train, asking every single man, "Excuse me, are you Jewish?" He didn't feel shame or awkwardness. He just had a mission. He came back twenty minutes later with nine other men in tow for his father. Michelle: That's amazing. Mark: His father was bursting with pride, but Peter didn't understand the big deal. He just saw a problem and solved it in the most direct way possible. That's the 'faster than normal' brain in action. It sees the solution, not the obstacles. Michelle: It makes you wonder how many other things we label as 'disorders' are actually just mismatches between a person's unique wiring and the environment we expect them to conform to. What a powerful thought to end on. Mark: This is Aibrary, signing off.