You don't sing to get to the end of the song. You sing to sing.
an inefficient piece about inefficiency
Hi! My name is Bree, and I write about how to have better days at work and in life. Subscribe for posts on everything from 20 short rules for better days at work to Grandpa Mornings. And order my new book, Today Was Fun: A Book About Work (Seriously)!
I’ve been pretty inefficient lately, and I’m trying to decide how I feel about it. Want to come on a little intellectual stroll with me? Perhaps we’ll figure some things out together?
The physics of efficiency
When I need to ground myself in first principles, I always head to physics. It’s judgment free and there’s usually a cute formula. In this case, Efficiency = Output/Input * 100. It’s only once we place a judgment on the formula—that higher efficiency is better—that it’s clear that output is the hero and input is the evil denominator to be minimized.1
But is input always evil?
Minimizing input is good when we’re trying to “get through” something—when we find no value in the process, only in the outcome. I’m very happy for my dental hygienist to be efficient with my cleaning. But what happens when we start to adopt efficiency as the orientation to our entire lives? When we try to cook efficiently, return messages to friends efficiently, read efficiently? There’s the obvious benefit of doing more in a day, but I also wonder how much we internalize the premise underlying efficiency that this is a thing to be gotten through—an input/experience to be minimized. Am I not only minimizing, say, the time I spend cooking, but also the joy that might accompany it? I’m reminded of this post. As they say, “You don’t sing to get to the end of the song. You sing to sing.”
Adventure is the opposite of efficiency
In my 20s I did a lot of backpacking around the world. When I reminisce on my favorite moments, it’s always the misadventures that make me smile most. There was the time I was briefly stranded with a friend in the frigid Andes because the bus driver decided he was going home for lunch in this remote village and wouldn’t drive the bus back to Santiago until that evening. He said, “go to this woman’s house down the road, and she’ll probably take you in and make you some food.” And she did!
Or there was the time after 16 hours of travel I was in the Toronto airport crying because my next flight wasn’t until the morning and I had accidentally exited security and there was no place to sleep or get food. A kind customs agent saw me and invited me to her home where she cooked me dinner with her sisters and let me stay in their guest room.
“An adventure is only an inconvenience rightly considered. An inconvenience is only an adventure wrongly considered.” ― G.K. Chesterton
Both of those stories are highlights not just of my travels, but of my life! And they were anything but efficient. In fact they were born of inconvenience, of extra input gifted to me by strangers.
As our world becomes ever-more frictionless, I worry what will become of adventure. And further, what will become of the opportunity for us, as humans, to need each other? If Chile had driverless busses that operated like clockwork, or if the Toronto airport had 24-hour fast food by their baggage claim, these adventures—and the glorious human connections that accompanied them—would never have come to pass. When everything becomes more efficient because companies are trying to be the most-needed entities in our lives, our need for each other is diminished. Why would a neighbor knock to borrow a cup of sugar when they could just order groceries online?
Which, oh god, brings me to the question of whether we’ve defined the act of living as an inconvenience to be minimized
I’m an introvert through and through so the idea of booking a restaurant reservation online rather than calling and talking to someone is truly relaxing. But the dose makes the poison, and I wonder if we’ve gone too far. Perhaps technology’s greatest strength is also what makes it a threat—that it scales where humans don’t. What happens when I order groceries or self-check out and miss the smile of a stranger? When I order back-to-school clothes for my daughter online instead of spending the afternoon shopping with her? When I shoot a quick text to a local friend and then realize I haven’t seen them in person in months? Of course sometimes done is better than thoughtful. But what happens when efficiency is more than sometimes? When it’s just the way of life? And what’s next! Efficient grief? Efficient dancing? Efficient sex?
Maybe the input is the point
I’m often asked on podcasts how I see AI affecting work and life. In a world where things “get done” more efficiently, what stands apart? What do we choose to value? I usually joke that what I hope happens is—just like we have organic stickers for pesticide-free produce—that we’ll one day have “human made” stickers for AI-free products. For some things, we just want the right answer (e.g., a medical diagnosis), but for other things, the simple fact that human hands, or a human brain or heart was involved in the making, is part of the value.
The value of a kind note from a friend is not in the paper and words. It’s in the assumption that our friend took the time to think about us—with the output/evidence being the note. And I should hope that the experience of writing a note to a friend was also, in and of itself, joyful. Because what are we doing in life if not taking the time to care for each other—and enjoying it?
Welp, I’m feeling better about my inefficiency
Thanks for coming on that wander (crusade?) with me. I hope you take the time to enjoy the shit out of something or someone today. Revel in the input! Sending you off with a little James Clear:
You are richer than 93 percent of people. Not in money, but in time.
Over 108 billion people have lived throughout history. 93 percent of them are dead.
You have what every king and queen, every pharaoh and ruler, every CEO and celebrity of the past would give all their wealth and power for:
Today.
If you’d like to wander a bit longer…
Some pieces I wrote/podcasts I appeared on you might enjoy!
The “Most Days” Theory—my guest post for the one-and-only
on cutting ourselves some slack. It went a little viral!The Business Case for Employee Engagement Should Offend You—my guest post for the
. One of my spicier pieces.I was on LinkedIn’s Hello Monday podcast with the brilliant and thoughtful
. One of my favorite podcast conversations.Ok this one is a teaser because I’m swooning and needed to share it with you: I was on Jonathan Van Ness’s podcast Getting Better and it will drop soon!
Just the thing you need!
Are you ever like: What am I in the mood for… going for a walk? having a little snack? writing an Amazon review? AH! Yes, that was it. I’m in the mood to write an Amazon review for Bree’s book, Today Was Fun.
Well by all means friends, scratch that itch! I got you!!
(And seriously, I’m very, very grateful <3)
Does “evil denominator” sound like a badass Halloween costume or what. Omg or “sexy evil denominator” for a math teacher who wants to take things too far…
The inefficiency of asking for sugar from a neighbour (and sitting on the porch catching up) and shopping with my kids for school clothes made me think - how many things on my to-do list can I make more unwieldy? How much more joy, love and fun can I introduce into my days by ensuring I meet the very friction I try so hard to avoid??
Thanks for orienting us always towards ourselves, and a life well loved 🩷
so soothing to read. I was really needing something like this and didn’t know it. thank you 🖤