On Productivity
In an effort to be more deliberate with this platform, I scheduled writing sessions for myself. There is just one problem with this. I have no idea what to write about. Sure, I could talk about the ongoing Ruso-Ukrainian war, the passage of the Child Bill in Kenya or the Presidential debate. I could pontificate on the practical application of contractualism (aka a school of moral philosophy that holds that we ought to treat each other in recognition of their value as human beings), or the extent to which man craves subjugation. But none of these inspire me to reflect or engage in basic commentary. Perhaps it might be more accurate to say that I can think of no topic that would inspire me to engage in the necessary research needed to allow me to speak confidently of my opinion. So I find myself writing without purpose, in direct contravention of the purpose of this blog. Is this the first time this has happened? Not at all. Will it be the last? No, it will not be. But is this a bad thing? Performing productivity to produce outputs and not realise outcomes? Yes, I believe so.
I believe we live in a world that encourages performative productivity. Performative productivity is any attempt to create the appearance of being busy, getting shit done or a sense of accomplishment without actually doing anything of substance. It is taking 10,000 steps in the same place when you're goal is to move two steps forward. It is doing your laundry, and deep cleaning your house when you've got an essay due in 4 hours and 48 minutes. A great example of this, is this blog post. I am writing not because I have something I wish to say, but because it's on my to-do list and if I don't cross it off, I'll get incredibly anxious. And I'll get incredibly anxious because it will feel like I haven't been as productive as I could have been. And I care about being productive because productivity is a marker of success in our society; especially the kind of productivity that is financially lucrative. So because I want to be seen as successful, I will perform productivity. And herein lies several problems.
The first is that I have, wrongly, prioritised productivity over impact. Instead of caring about the consequences, and quality, of my actions, I have prioritised their quantity. I believe that the more I get done in the day, the better person I am when this is not true. The truth is that not all tasks are created equal. When an able-bodied person walks, we think nothing of it; but when a baby walks, we leap for joy. Even though, objectively, the same goal (i.e. walking) has been accomplished. This is because, subjectively, they are not the same. The amount of conscious effort and willpower it takes the able-bodied person is nothing compared to the amount of effort and willpower it takes an infant. As a result, the impact of their actions is far greater; as is the perception (both internal and external) of their productivity.
The second problem with performing productivity is that you often lose sight of your goals along the way. You forget why it is that you do the things that you do. I know why I scheduled this writing session in; I wanted to build consistency in my writing. However, as writing became an obligation, and not a creative outlet I could embrace, realising the goal of consistent writing became less important to me than checking this task off my to-do list. Even now, as I get to the end of this post, I feel more elated at the prospect of checking something off the to-do list, than at taking the time to do this task right.
The ultimate consequence of these two faults is a loss of meaning. Eventually, you will do things because you feel like you must, even though you have lost sight of why and have forgotten how it will push you further or benefit your life. And as life is reduced to a series of tasks that must be completed, ad infinitum, you start to wonder what is the point of all this and if that is all life has to offer you.
If you have reached that point, I would like to remind you that you are what gives meaning to your life. You are what imbues your life with value, and significance. I know that this realisation is as terrifying as it is freeing. But this should not be an excuse to shy away from giving your life meaning, and from asking yourself why it is that you do the things that you do. Are they bringing you any benefit? Or are they simply space-fillers? And if you don't like the answers you come to, that's okay too. Remember, it's okay to change.
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