Are you stuck in the effort swamp?

Ugh. My client’s response at mere mention of that task. 😣 But why such doom? Was it boring, or tricky, or scary? Nope.

And yet an unassuming item on the to-do list had become insurmountable – and thrown a brilliant leader into calamity. Not of the racing heart, bitter self-doubt variety. This was altogether more lackadaisical. My poor client hadn’t crashed, so much as gently roly polied into the effort swamp.

What is the effort swamp?

Take a look at your to-do list. Which item stubbornly resists removal? Or keeps falling off? Or spurs you into high performance procrastination? There’s a good chance it’s belly flopped into the swamp.

The effort swamp tends not to affect the big and dramatic, or even unutterably dull, so much as the squashy middle. Where the rewards seem simply too intangible, incremental or snoozily mañana.¹ And where boredom arises less from the Thing itself than the endless not-doing of it.

Stuff you can do, would benefit from doing, but also won’t die from not doing often thrives in the effort swamp. Which perhaps explains another of its intriguing features: the self-stymie. You don’t do it, so there’s no benefit, so you were right not to do it. QED. 🤷‍♀️ A glorious cart-before-the-horse call to inaction.²

A few IRL examples:³

• A client who hasn’t got round to reviving a valuable learning exchange because the admin might get onerous
  Even though they could cap the numbers, or crowdsource a solution (or… whisper it… discover there’s not that much demand)

• A mate who never quite has time to sort out their website because it doesn’t drive much traffic⁴
  Even though it doesn’t drive much traffic because it doesn’t work properly

• And me(a culpa)⁵: a product I haven’t finished because the sales might not recoup the faff
  Even though they definitely won’t if it never goes on sale 🙄

What with the not dying thing, the effort swamp is easy to dismiss. But being not bovvered is, annoyingly, quite a lot of bother. Thinking about whether to do the Thing is effort. Finding stuff to do instead is effort. Bashing yourself over the head for not making the effort is, yep, effort. It’s just not effort well spent. So what to do?

Ask impertinent questions 🤔

Does it actually matter?
What might happen if you just get on with it? Why is it more strategic not to bother? What might happen if you never do it?

Are you luxuriating in the swamp?
Which obstacles are real and which imagined? Where are you moved by a spirit of perversity? Where are you cosying up to being crap?⁶

Who might you become?
Who might you be if you climbed out of the swamp? Who might you be if you don’t? Which is scarier?

Fancy an expanded version of these Impertinent Questions? Download it here. Keen to get nosy every day? You might like my month of Impertinent Questions. (Fear not – you get weekends off.)

Budge the grudge

The effort swamp is often mired in a perception of drudgery – and real resentment. One day you’re mulling over the task; the next you begrudge everything it stands for. Like my mate who agreed to speak at an event, couldn’t decide what to speak about, and then told me all talks were boring, stupid and futile anyway. 😫⁷ Druge begets grudge in almost touching mutualism.

So get curious. Where might you find the fun and skip the swamp? Which bits are truly unavoidable? How might your ugh be another’s ooh?⁸ Even if the drudge (and grudge) doesn’t crumble under interrogation, at least you know what’s what. And that gives you a chance to make it less boring/tricksy/draining.⁹

Start anywhere, strategise en route

Leaders are frequently encouraged to set the course before they set off.¹⁰ And (provided you’re pivot-ready) that’s smart. But when you’re in the effort swamp? Not so much. Because you probably know the route and destination. You just can’t be arsed to go.

At which point, setting off from anywhere, in any direction, at least sets you in motion.¹¹ And offers a clearer view of what’s ahead. Yes, it might’ve been smarter to start elsewhere. And yes, you might have to change course. But that might’ve happened anyway. And at least you’re not still stranded at shore.

Know when to fold ‘em

Look around you. What’s changed since you stumbled into the effort swamp? Does the Thing still matter? Do you still care? What might you gain by ditching it altogether? And how will you feel: like a weight’s been lifted, or like you’ve dropped the ball?

Sure, sometimes you have to grit your teeth and crack on.¹² But there’s merit in knowing when to say feck it, I’m out.¹³ And to acknowledge that, if you haven’t done it yet, you’re just not going to. At least you’ll be making a choice. And freeing up all that effort for something you might want to do instead.

Goodness, you’ve read right to the end! If you’re new here, 👋 and many thanks for subscribing. And if you’re a long-standing (suffering?) reader, hearty cheers for sticking around. 🙌

If you’d like even more from me, there’s my month of Impertinent Questions, a 30-second read direct to your inbox. Actual real people have said nice things about it like ‘just so good’ and ‘I think it’s magical’ [*blushes with gratitude*]. There’s also my small back catalogue of blogs and now slightly old-ish podcast with still excellent guests. And if you’d like to chat curious coaching or leadership learning, just hit reply. And that’s it. PHEW! See you next time!

Keen to get curious and fancy a spot of help?

Get intensely curious about who you are, who you’re not, and what actually matters with Impertinent Questions. My nosiness meets your context each weekday for a month.

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FOOTNOTES

1 A sort of Goldilocks gone wrong, where just right is just wrong.

2 Although the April 1907 edition of Popular Mechanics notes that “the very latest Paris novelty in the vehicle line is a four-wheeled surrey in which the cart is actually before the horse.” And (lolz) that “another feature which attracts attention is the driver, who is a woman.” (Also, just so you know, the first story on that page references suicide.)

3 To everyone who shared their effort swamps with me: thank you! To everyone else: don’t judge. I reckon we’ve all got ‘em lurking somewhere.

4 This came up So Many Times, with many a website/CV/profile update stuck in swampy sludge (including my own 😬).

5 This blog is nothing if not meta. Alarmingly, it might be nothing but meta. 😬

6 I’m all for purposeful crapness, as distinct from the feckless sort in which you give good sense the slip.

7 It was quite the diatribe – but, predictably, he was brilliant in the end! 🔥🙌😂

8 Their opportunity to gain skills/kudos/recognition, rather than yours to get rid at their expense – obvs.

9 Perhaps by deploying Second Brain, or being somewhere other than your desk, or playing it for laughs to boost your creativity (or just keep you awake).

10 Not least by me! 👋

11 It’s like steerageway, a sailing thing my mate Nick told me about: you can’t steer until you’re moving.

12 One Step Forward might help if so.

13 Or to quote our Ken: you gotta know when to hold ‘em, know when to fold ‘em. Apparently while performing a slow, polite striptease.

When are you a high performance procrastinator?

How’s your to-do list? Ticked off like a trojan?[1]

Here’s mine:
✅  Set client strategy
✅  Design big presentation
✅  Catch up on industry news
❌ Write newsletter

So yeah, my actual top priority was to write this. But look! I accomplished Lots of Other Stuff. No slackers here, amirite?!

Thing is, we often think of procrastination as making more tea, endlessly refreshing e-mail, or tidying a spotless desk.[2] In other words: conspicuous avoidance. But for the leaders I work with, that’s mostly not what procrastination looks like.[3]

Their avoidance is often inconspicuous, in the form of prioritising other core tasks. Because when everything feels urgent it’s hard to privilege importance. And besides, you’re still busy. You’re still working hard. And you’ll still deliver… Just with more friction and less energy. (Like this newsletter. 😬)

Are you being productive or performative?

Inconspicuous avoidance is hard to admit. Because from the outside, busy is busy. Only you can really know whether you’re very busy with one thing because you’re avoiding another. A friend of mine calls this ‘high performance procrastination’.[4]

Which is bang on, isn’t it? To the all the world it looks like you’re working terribly hard. And indeed you are. Just on something else.

So it’s worth getting curious about whether you’re being productive or a high performance procrastinator at any given point. Sometimes just noticing can nip it in the bud:

Does this require your urgent attention?
Does this deserve your best energy?
Does that deserve the dregs?
Are you, just possibly, shooting yourself in the foot?

You could ask these and other questions. Except probably, you already know. You know whether you’re practising diligence or avoidance, even when they look alike. And you know what you’re avoiding. So then what?

Why are you procrastinating?

What’s behind your not-so-classic avoidance? Fear?[5] Or boredom? Or ‘this is really difficult and requires best-brain and all I can summon is bleugh-brain’? (For which I tried to come up with a snappy label, but failed.[6])

Or are you, most unhelpfully, procrastinating because it really matters? It might sound odd, but really wanting something can have a paralysing effect.[7] Because: what if you actually got it? Then what? Who would you be then? 😮

This sort of procrastination often gets muddled up with fear. But it’s not quite the same. Yes, there’s a nervy anxiety to it. But in my experience, it tips towards feeling unready more than scared. And that makes holding off seem smart: surely more prep = more ready. And yep, that's true. Until, of course, you miss the boat and render all that prep futile.[8] 🤦‍♀️

But how to get back on the wagon?

It’s all very well knowing what’s behind your procrastination. But then what? Sometimes a firm eyeroll is enough. And sometimes an impertinent question can help.

Is it boring?
What could add a spot of levity?
Which incentives might make it more palatable?
Where might joining forces make it easier, funnier or, ahem, fun-er-er?

Is it difficult?
Where can you apply what you already know?
How can you channel shitty first draft energy?
How can you chunk the madness with One Step Forward?

Does it really, deeply matter?
When will you be ready?
What if it doesn’t work out? What if it does?
What if you gave yourself a friendly but firm shove?

Will this eliminate procrastination? Nope. Can noticing the niggles help you answer them? Or crack on anyway because they’re unanswerable? Yep. Will they pop up again? Of course! But it’s easier to dismiss that but-but-but when you’ve previously batted it away.[9]

But wait! Can procrastination be a good thing?

Strap in: about turn ahead![10] Sometimes it is smart to procrastinate. Sometimes you need a break. Sometimes you need other stuff in place first. And sometimes what you’re supposed to be doing loses saliency, while what you’re not doing rockets in appeal.

On which: if both tasks are of equal importance and urgency, there’s no harm in switching. You might even save time by harnessing your intellectual energy more efficiently. But it’s not without risk. An unexpected event can throw everything out. So switch, but don’t luxuriate.

There’s another way in which high performance procrastination can be smart. Sometimes the thing you do instead is just… better. A friend of a friend has a corking example: their now multimillion dollar business was born out of avoiding their novel. See? Avoidance really can pay off![11]

(It’s just annoyingly hard to plan. 🙄)

If you get it done, does procrastination actually matter?

Well, yes. Perhaps not to anyone else, but almost certainly to you. High performance procrastination is still work. It still uses energy and brain power. It still leaves you tired after a long day. But it’s work stripped of satisfaction, progress and potential fulfilled.

Most leaders I know need that internal validation. Because it’s not just external delivery that matters; it’s how that impacts your sense of self. And too much high performance procrastination can chip away at that.

So allow yourself a massive sigh. And then privilege what matters with your best energy, not the dregs.

And with that, I’m off to do nothing – busily. 👋

Keen to get curious and fancy a spot of help?

Get intensely curious about who you are, who you’re not, and what actually matters with Impertinent Questions. My nosiness meets your context each weekday for a month.

Get curious with The Curious Leader newsletter direct to your inbox. Longform, practical, personal opining on curiosity in leadership. Like today’s on FOBFO-busting, or this one on owning your success.

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[1] Of the determined rather than viral variety.

[2] I actually long for a spotless desk. Emma Cownley of Jot Jot Boom cleans hers every weekend. I am in awe.

[3] No one I’ve met is immune to conspicuous avoidance; they just don’t do it at work.

[4] Thanks, Nick! That did, indeed, explain things.

[5] That fear might be of the actual thing – delivering a conference presentation because you have social anxiety, for example. Or fear of failing at the thing – like delivering a crap presentation. It might even be a fear of being found out – the shame of everyone realising you’re a, I don’t know, “presentations fraud”, say. (And no, I don’t know what one of those is either. Which is the point.)

[6] Although ‘can’t be arsed’ comes close. Bit harsh? Perhaps. But honestly, haven’t you felt that sometimes?

[7] And besides, who isn’t a contrarian at heart?

[8] There’s so much more to say about this, about how fear intersects with hope, and the mental gymnastics of getting what you want. I might even write a post on it. Mañana.

[9] But-but-but… is it really? Yes. Incidentally, this tends to be more fun with someone else. There’s something freeing and funny about saying it all out loud. Daylight might be a disinfectant, but so is laughter.

[10] See 7.

[11] How can you know whether it’s worth the trade? You can’t. But you can get curious if you feel inexorably, relentlessly drawn to something. Or conversely, relentlessly downhearted. What is the pull factor, and the push? Is it temporary or persistent? How could you find out more: who could you talk to; what could you start to test out?

[12] Yep, another glorious segue. Working in telly really did set me up for anything. 😂