Perhaps our downfall will be the predilection for new and novel things. An inability to focus long enough to finish what we start, what needs finishing.
To spend the next few hours on the book we started? Or to spend it online in a wash of new, shiny noise?
Neither is better in any moral sense, though they feel different. Roast and potatoes vs. milk chocolate
Over time, perhaps, the additive effects of the latter will erode our sense of self and progress.