The Problem with Productivity as a Source of Happiness

Productive people achieve more.

People who achieve are successful.

People who are successful are happy.

This is the logic I've internalised in my nearly 40 years on this planet. Accordingly, I've arranged my life around being as productive as I can.

But what if this logic is wrong?

The more I seem to get done, the more I seem to have to do. And why am I not happier?

The Never-Ending To-Do List

I've always had plans. My father ran his own business, and it made sense to me that one day I would too. I just needed to gain the skills and experience to know how.

When I started high school, they put me up a year and told me I was special. I didn’t feel special. I felt anxious and inadequate, but I hoped I could one day vanquish this sensation if I just achieved enough.

With these motivations, I have always sought to get ahead. As life progressed, my responsibilities ballooned, making it increasingly difficult to keep on top of the many tasks my ambitions demanded.

I studied productivity, devised a system, and became more efficient. Over time, I iterated from simple pen-and-paper lists to a complex web of prioritised tasks, labels, and projects, rooted in David Allen's Getting Things Done methodology and orchestrated by the tool Todoist.

The system is effective. Things don’t often slip through the cracks, but now, two decades into my career, I feel I have more to do than ever, and it's starting to feel oppressive.

I’ve operated under the false idea that eventually I’ll tick everything off my list and gain control over my life. I thought one day all my obligations would be met, goals achieved, and I'd finally have time for the things that really matter. But it doesn't work this way.

The more efficient we become, the more stuff piles in.

The reward for getting all your work done is more work.

I'll never reach nirvana at the bottom of my to-do list because the list will never be done.

And nirvana isn't there in the first place.

Living in the Future

The problem with living by our to-do lists is that we shape our lives around throughput — quantity over quality.

We see today’s tasks as obstacles to the future state we are striving for, so we become ruthlessly efficient at getting through our lists, our minds set on the next promotion, achievement, or accolade.

But inevitably, when we achieve these ambitions, the goalposts move, and something else becomes more important. Our satisfaction is always a mirage on the horizon, shifting away as we get close.

Worse still, when we achieve our goals, the satisfaction is fleeting. We expect the promotion will finally validate us, but it soon fades into the background noise of our lives. The award we won becomes forgotten on a shelf.

That's not to say these things don't have value, but we must accept that the joy they bring us will only ever be temporary.

Telic vs. Atelic Activities

Oliver Burkeman, in his book Four Thousand Weeks, distinguishes between 'telic' and 'atelic' activities. Telic activities strive toward a goal, a future state. Atelic activities are valued for their own sake in the present, like spending time with loved ones, engaging in hobbies, or basking in nature. These aren't activities you can complete and tick off. Enjoying the outdoors is never "done".

It may seem self-evident that we’ll be happier if we do more fun and meaningful things, but when you've optimised for getting things done, stepping off that treadmill is difficult. We are so consumed by our busyness that slowing down becomes difficult, especially when it has helped us get ahead and succeed.

When I consider my life, I can see it is overwhelmingly telic: my days revolve around my to-do list, achieving goals, and my sense of self-worth is uncomfortably tangled up in my productivity.

I feel guilt when I'm not accomplishing something. I fidget while watching TV. I read shorter books so I can finish them quickly. When I play video games, I never do the side quests.

I don't fully enjoy what I'm doing because I'm fixated on completing them to move on to the next thing.

How can I "waste time" reading a novel when there are so many pressing things I need to do?

Applied Procrastination

The simple truth is we will never get everything done. We'll never tick the final thing off our to-do list and find ourselves in a state of contented bliss. We need to make room for things that are meaningful to us in the here and now. We need to build atelic activities into our routines—those that make life worth living in the present.

There will be trade-offs: Even if you were a productivity robot working 24 hours a day, you would never come close to doing all that you could possibly do in our finite time on earth. There are too many options.

We must consciously decide what we will do—and what we won’t.

We may have to accept that things we ‘kind of want to do’ need to be neglected to make time for the things we ‘really want to do’. I've recently decided to quit playing guitar, a middling priority, to free up more time for other things that are more meaningful to me. I’ve already invested a few years into the guitar, and the decision wasn’t easy, but for now, it’s distracting me from other things that matter even more.

Finding our Interests

I'm encouraged by a colleague who posted recently about working on his Bachelor of Science in Physics degree, something with no applicability to his role in our organisation, but an interest and a passion he wants to explore as a tangent to his love of aviation. This seems to be an atelic activity, something he’s doing for the love of learning and deepening his knowledge in a subject he’s passionate about, rather than because he has a future goal of being a physicist.

Another colleague is heavily invested in Scouts, dedicating his time to supporting his local troop. The things that interest you could take many forms, but what’s important is their significance to you in the present.

I share a love of learning and am now making more time to read, write, and explore subjects outside of work. I’m spending more time playing tennis. I’ve convinced my neighbour to let me look after their dog on some of the days I work from home and am enjoying the simple affection a canine pal offers.

I'm also focusing on being a better friend after years of neglecting this area of my life in favour of professional striving. Friendship is truly atelic, and I hope none of us ever find friendship "done" in our lifetimes.

Balance

The point is not to eliminate telic activity but to balance it with activities that give our lives meaning today.

There is still plenty I want to achieve both personally and professionally, but I recognise that I cannot peg my happiness exclusively to things that may or may not occur in the future.

I'm seeking to be clearer about what is important, in the office and at home, and putting my attention there first, deliberately procrastinating on lower-priority tasks. I also accept I can’t do everything and will have to make some tough decisions. I’m trying to do less overall.

I'm working on the guilt I feel when I'm being unproductive. I'm making space in my life to read novels, play games, and walk the dog in the park. I'm listening to podcasts that aren't going to teach me anything, but make me laugh instead.

Throughout time, people have sought wealth and success to do less and enjoy life. The irony is that now, the more successful we become, the busier we seem to be. However, balancing our telic and atelic activities seems a sure route to enjoying our lives more day-to-day, and surely that is something we all should be striving for.