AD ASTRA PER ARDUA

"“So busy.”

“Busy!”

*shakes head* “Just so busy lately.”

When people drop one of these on me, my first instinct is to assume I’m not doing enough. I’m a Midwesterner, and a Nordic/Germanic/Protestant one, to boot. It’s in my nature to think I’m lazy.

 

But after I’ve raced through that pesky psychological schema, my brain recovers and this starts on a loop: This person I’m talking to: he’s saying this thing. But this person I’m talking to: I know him. If he’s so busy, then why’s nothing getting done?

 

And I know. I know! We’re not supposed to wonder about the logical Mobius strip inherent to what is likely an innocuous platitude. We’re supposed to Keep Calm and Not Ruin Dinner. But in case you’re like me and you find this frustrating (IF YOU’RE SO BUSY THEN WHERE ARE THE FRUITS OF YOUR BUSY-NESS?) well, I’ve conceived of a new way to think about the problem. And a new way to talk about it, too.

 

You’re welcome to steal both.

In physics, Work = Force x Distance. If I move a stone block with a mass of 100 kilograms to a spot 10 meters from here, the Work I do is equal to the Force I have to apply to move those 100 kilograms that Distance of 10 meters.
 

In non-physics, work also equals force x distance: how much effort a person applies to a project times the distance it needs to be moved.
 

In the physics example, a person can apply a whole bunch of Force to their block but if they don’t actually move it any Distance, no Work has been done. It’s the same in the world of lower-case work. Someone can apply force to a project, but that doesn’t necessarily mean they’ve moved the project anywhere—that they’ve done any actual work.

 

This is what’s happening for many of the people we meet who tell us they’re so busy, but for whom nothing seems to get done. They’re applying a copious amount of force—-emails! calls! meetings! rescheduling meetings! my God, people love rescheduling meetings!—-but they’re not moving anything anywhere.

 

And yet, just like pushing on a block that won’t move, it feels like they’re doing a lot, even if it’s the metaphorical equivalent to whacking our 100-kilo block with a pipe cleaner.

In most cases, though, this is neither our circus nor our monkeys, which brings me to my second gift to you: a wee nomenclatural trick to help with your cognitive dissonance. Now, when I hear someone say they’re busy, I change the spelling in my brain. They’re bizzy. Like dizzy.

 

And what do we do when someone’s dizzy? We sit them down, pat them on the head, maybe get them a glass of water.

 

And get back to work. The real kind. Where something gets done, and doesn’t just make us bizzy.