The Productivity Paradox

I like to be “productive.”

I feel good about making videos, playing in bands, teaching, writing, practicing, and on and on…

In the quest to solidify habits and mindset around those ends, I’ve listened to podcasts and read books and built thought patterns that reinforce a “get shit done” mentality. I’ve espoused those values to anyone who will listen.

It’s mostly a good thing, and I’m proud(ish) to be “hardworking” or “driven” or whatever…

But I’ve also wandered into burnout territory, built up unrealistic expectations of output, and harbored guilt over a near-constant nagging internal voice that says “you should be doing more” – so it’s high time I unpack the downsides of hard work and point my mental compass toward balance.

Over the last year or so, I’ve been thinking, learning, and practicing ways to adjust away from perpetual busyness and hustle, and incorporating (or at least trying to) better rest, patience, and most importantly, a sense of satisfied abundance instead of skittish scarcity.

And yet, I still want to do SO much… And still kind of break my metaphorical back doing it. At any given moment, there are a thousand things I could (should?) be doing that would somehow improve my life – and no matter how many of those tasks I complete, hours I log, items I check off the list, the mountain towers before me.

But why do I feel the need to work so hard in the first place?

My friends and I have this sardonic running joke of “don’t look too close, you’ll just be disappointed” – a catch-all response to the ugly truths that seem to be lurking in the history and details of everything – and it’s starting to apply to some of the beliefs I hold about productivity… But only kind of.

So let’s take a closer look anyway.

Unpacking the Origins of Hustle Culture

In loose observation of public discourse, most of us seem to feel overworked and time starved.

Information moves faster than ever, and no matter how much we automate or streamline, the perceived command to “do more, be more” never ends. It’s got many faces, from increasing demands on artists to constantly promote to the corporate goals of outperforming the previous year (every damn year). We’re bombarded with social media that highlights rare achievement as though it were a mundane, common thing, and implicitly asked to commit ever-more effort to the content deluge.

We’re surrounded by a message of meritocracy that screams “work harder” if we want to get ahead, or even maintain what we already have. We collectively prop up life’s lottery winners as proof of concept, and apply the idea of “self-made” to every area of our lives that feels less-than…

And that’s the real rub: the psychological damage done at the intersection of concept and reality. We toil away in pursuit, and even when it’s working, we stay entrenched in the message that it’s never enough.

To investigate this, I’m currently listening to the audiobook of Do Nothing by Celeste Headlee, and recently listened to another with a similar topic titled Laziness Does Not Exist by Devon Price. These authors do a much better and more thorough job of explaining than I can here, but the short version goes something like this:

The culture of capitalism is one of perpetual growth. We buy and sell the narrative that hard work is the path to success, and that success is decorated with achievements and posessions. This manifests in the digital age as constant pressure to be working, to climb the ladder, to monetize hobbies, to optimize, to be better-faster-stronger, to be hustling and grinding toward the myth of the American Dream…

It’s the engine of the economy that keeps us all barrelling forward – from megacorporations to individuals across the socioeconomic spectrum – looking to wring resources for maximum returns. The worm in our brains that says if we could just be better, we’d have it all…

But it’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing, and pretty much always has been.

Both Headlee and Price review much of the history. It’s largely the long-tail result of Protestant Work Ethic seeping its way into the fabric of our society. The very same propaganda used by slaveowners and industrial revolution barons to squeeze capital from exhausted human beings with the promise of cosmic favor. Further codified by Max Weber in the 1930s (among other places), this idea that LABOR = GOOD, regardless of who it served, how it paid, or what damage might be done in the process, is all but fully internalized.

Fast forward to today, and we’ve mostly forgotten the origin story. It’s baked into the way we see the world, and with it, the notion that if we just work hard enough, we can achieve anything – which, because of this very same notion, is usually money, power, fame, influence, etc.

Along the way, we’ve also learned to demonize idleness, eschew rest, obsess over hours worked, and sacrifice our sanity upon the altar of social approval.

But this quest for success, the adoption of busyness as a badge of honor, and a version of keeping up with the Joneses that now applies to so much more than the people next door is quite literally making us neurotic, sick, and stressed around the clock.

Daydreaming, play, casual time with loved ones, exploration, and so many more seemingly “unproductive” activities are essential to a life well lived, especially to those of us interested in creativity.

All of this makes perfect sense, and we see it all around us… So why not reject “hard work” entirely?

The Other Side Hard Work

If I know that hustle culture has suspect origins, and see the fallout of decades (even centuries) of glorifying labor for labor’s sake, why do I still want to do it? Why would I still encourage it in others?

It’s not masochism…

It’s because, despite all the troubling things above, hard work… works.

On an individual level, so many of the tropes ARE STILL TRUE. Books like Steven Pressfield’s War of Art and Do the Work are powerful reminders that creativity happens when we show up time and time again. The Talent Code outlines the crucial function of repetition and effort spent in developing the myelin essential to skill building.

Anecdotally, this is reflected in my own experience too. Consistent practice makes me a better drummer. Sitting down to write ultimately equals words written. The more a band rehearses the tighter they are. The more booking emails you send, the more gigs you’ll probably play. Promoting shows helps attendance. Following through on promises builds positive reputation. Being good at a job will certainly produce more rewards than being bad at it. Failing and flailing forward will always yield more results than not trying at all…

Whatever the crop, tending a garden helps it grow.

Meritocracy and endless hustling (and their reflection in the American Dream) on the macro scale might be a myth rooted in all kinds of ugly misconceptions and propaganda, but in the day to day small scale, hard work consistently pays off – if not monetarily, at least in the form of skill development and creative output.

So, I don’t think hard work is the problem – it’s that we’re doing it for the wrong reasons.

Instead of pursuing personal growth, mastery, and satisfaction – which would also allow us to embrace idleness, rest, and play without pangs of unproductive guilt – we’re so often grinding it out to prove something, to meet unrealistic and impersonal expectations, or simply because so much of the social construct tells us we should.

I don’t quite know what the healthy balance of productivity and rest is for me, and accept the irony of working toward it…

But I know that the first step is shaking off the mindset of “should” and replacing it with a comforted sense of investing effort in what matters most to me. That might mean long hours or sacrifices sometimes, but the new goal is to do it (or not) without the guilt.

I’ll be productive when and how I want to be. Joneses be damned.