Procrastination By Doing

I suffer from a particular form of procrastination: procrastination by doing. Let me illustrate what it is. Then, I have some tips to fight it.

Let’s say I have a big-picture software architecture task my boss assigned me. My problem is not that I instead watch Netflix, unable to get off the couch. I will do productive work. It just won’t be the assigned task. It is precisely when facing an important task that I will draw from the following types of other tasks.

  1. Run and fold laundry.
  2. Pop over to the store for that one low pantry item.
  3. Debug why Vim isn’t showing autocomplete suggestions in one file.

None of these are the assigned task.

Oh gee, it’s the end of the work day! Guess I’ll take another stab at the big task tomorrow.

And so it goes. Sometimes for days.

The parable of the jar of rocks, pebbles, and sand comes to mind. People interpret it a lot of ways and it is problematic in a lot of ways.1 Here’s my takeaway of the parable.

A pencil sketch of a jar mostly full of sand, with several rocks and pebbles interspersed.
All models are wrong, but some are useful.
  • The jar represents the bounds of what you can accomplish in a day. You have finite attention, time, and energy.
  • Rocks represent big-picture tasks that will accomplish something extraordinary. You might not immediately know how to do them. It will take some exploration.
  • Pebbles could be a bugfix ticket, even a critical bug, but it won’t win your team any awards. (“Why did you commit the bug in the first place?”)
  • Sand is the bureaucracy that carries zero glory, and won’t set you or your team apart. At work, this includes checking email, answering email, and proofreading others’ work. The tasks do need to get done, but they are a lower value distraction from your limited attention. Especially if you make (self-inflict) a reputation of being good at sand tasks.

What order do you insert the rocks, pebbles, and sand into the jar, to be most optimal with the bounds of the jar? If you buy into the parable’s model, the answer is: rocks first, then pebbles, then sand. If you insert the sand first, you leave no room for the rest.

Opening your email client for what we optimistically estimate as a 1 minute check or a 5 minute reply instead wastes 15-45 minutes of your day. Checking email multiple times compounds the waste. If you fill your day with activities like this, you won’t leave room for the bigger tasks. You procrastinated on the big-picture, valuable task not by doing nothing, but by consuming your attention with a different, lesser task.

The dopamine hit of smaller sand tasks is rewarding, comforting, and addictive compared to the difficult, mysterious big rock task. Small task dopamine is a slot machine though. Slot machines don’t always pay out. Especially in your long-term satisfaction. The days upon days of focusing on sand and never the high-visibility rocks you’re supposed to could get you fired. The slot machine could eventually bankrupt you. This is similar to how a real slot machine exploits gamblers.

I have a few tips to reframe and fight the todo list procrastination by doing, to properly order the jar of rocks, pebbles, and sand.

  1. Do the hardest thing first.
  2. Start before you’re ready.
  3. Stop before you’re done.

Do the hardest thing first

When you start work for the day and are still waking up, slurping your coffee, you might be tempted to catch up on email, what happened since you signed off yesterday.

Careful. Those notifications are sand. Addressed first, they will fill your jar.

Be deliberate when you open your email client. I recommend whittling down the checks to around once per day, and not first thing. Be explicit with your team and boss about email reading and about responsiveness expectations. Be explicit that there is a tradeoff if email replies are expected first thing in your morning: it is energy that could be directed to rocks. Does the boss not want rocks getting tackled consistently?

Now that you’ve punted the sand on your todo list, pay attention to your mind drifting away from rocks and instead toward pebbles. “I’m still waking up, just a quick task to warm up to the day.” No, that’s the dopamine slot machine calling again. Go for the rocks.

When your energy dips later in the day, when you need to stop your big rock task, then you can address sand, like opening your email client.

I think we’ve come to believe the warm up task is sensible, because we compare our brains warming up to knowledge work the way an athlete warms up their body before a competition. The problem is warming up knowledge work with other knowledge work. A better way to wake up your brain prior to the rock would be with non-work exercise, like going for a walk. Exercise stretches the brain’s capacity for the next part of your day, rather than consuming its finite attention.

But don’t let the non-work exercise become the sand of non-work chores.

Start before you’re ready

The Muse visits during the act of creation, not before. Don’t wait for her. Start alone.

—Roger Ebert

For a mysterious, big rock task that’s full of unknowns, the payoff is not obvious to the brain. The brain will face boredom or existential crisis. Even if you resist the knowledge work pebbles and sand, you might still be tempted to:

  1. Locate your favorite pen (surely then the words will flow).
  2. Put on the perfect productivity playlist (surely it’ll get you in the mood).
  3. Boil water for the next cuppa.
  4. All while starting the laundry machine (because parallel productivity efficiency).

Don’t. You don’t need any of the pen, music, boiled water, or laundry to tackle the rock. You can do it without them. Automatic as some of them seem, coordinating them will drain your limited attention and time. Skip them for now. Rather, start your task now.

So you notice and resist the around-the-house chores to supposedly put you in the perfect headspace to actually work on your big task. You break free from the pursuit of being perfectly ready.

If you then chip away at your big task for 20 minutes, your body will likely want to continue. System 1 takes over, to your benefit.

This is the same strategy as “don’t break the chain.” I’ve also heard this called “systems over goals” or “practice over product.” Overly focusing on the end result can overwhelm you with how far away it is. The overwhelm can divert you to check your email, a sand task you have more confidence in. The more sustainable, less daunting strategy is to start the big rock task, and do a little bit consistently.

The big rock task will have meaningful progress for the day. Even if you don’t finish the task, you’ll end the day a lot more satisfied, with something to show, versus if you hadn’t touched the task at all.

The flow of progress can be a healthy addiction. To be sustainable, however, you should even embrace not finishing the task.

Stop before you’re done

“What, now I’m flying on this task, and you want me to stop?” Yes, there is a counterbalance.

In theory, it’s nice to end every day with todo list zero. Perhaps some of us aspire to this from lessons in childhood. Perhaps school admonished us for a half-thought out essay or an incomplete exam. We also hear, for example, it’s nice to end the day with your loved ones at peace, “Never go to bed angry.” Imagine, each day of your life could be a neatly wrapped up movie plot.

Resist the urge to fulfill this completionism. Get comfortable leaving things partway done.

This is for a couple reasons. First, pebbles and sand do also need attention. Your day can’t only be big rocks. For example, some emails do deserve a reply. You do need clean laundry.

The second reason to stop before you’re done is more important: because your life isn’t just your big rock task, it isn’t a neatly wrapped up movie, it’s also your life. There must be more to your identity than work. If you always continue on a task until it is done or you have no energy left, you will burn out.

At the very least, you need to break to eat and sleep. You contain the multitudes of many interests, activities, and social bonds. You respect those other facets of your life and leave energy for them by not letting your big rock tasks completely overwrite your life. Plan the break for lunch. Plan the dinner reservation with a friend to bookend your workday. Schedule the board game night, group hike, or the gym class. Play and rest are essential.

Besides, you can’t tackle big rock mysterious tasks with an underslept mind and body. Given a break, your subconscious mind digests the task. The following day, it may have a better solution for you, at the ready.

After your workday, don’t return to the work. You won’t be putting in high quality work. You’ll get diminishing returns. You’ll hurt your sleep. The work will be there waiting for you the next workday.

Plan to stop the work before it’s done sometimes, so the work doesn’t overwrite everything else in your day or life. To be sustainable and not burn out. Life is a marathon, not a sprint.2

No cure-all

I said at the beginning, “I suffer” from procrastination by doing, present tense. While I’m by no means cured of procrastination, remembering and practicing the 3 tips in this post help me. Even if they make life just 1% better for a single day’s tasks. 1% sounds small, but the flow of progress and the morale boosts compound over time.

I hope these tips help you too. If you’re like me, you’ll still procrastinate by doing sometimes. But with awareness and practice, you can accomplish truly rewarding tasks. Not just quick dopamine hits. You can accomplish goals with less pain, and maintain a healthier balance between work, rest, and the other important parts of your life.

Footnotes

Footnotes

  1. Oliver Burkeman’s Four Thousand Weeks: Time Management for Mortals has a good critique of the parable. For example, there are many rocks that never make it near the jar.

    The book is also a good introduction to mindfulness about big, mysterious tasks forcing you to reckon with your limited time on earth. The existential dread is easier to bury with distractions like email or social media.

  2. I’m hesitant about this analogy, because a marathon is brutal. It is dramatic to compare life or work to an athletic challenge only a small percentage of humans will ever do.