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Oliver BurkemanA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
The most striking difference between Oliver Burkeman’s book and other time management guides is that Burkeman insists that both temporal and personal limitations exist and that there can be no progress without accepting them. Whereas other time management advice, such as Stephen Covey’s, placates the human anxiety of running out of time with platitudes about being able to do all the little things when we have done the big ones, Burkeman offers no such consolation. Instead, he quotes the writer Elizabeth Gilbert, who says that “you need to learn how to start saying no to things you do want to do, with the recognition that you have only one life” (78). Burkeman contextualizes Gilbert’s pronouncement throughout the book, first by declaring that this life is due to last on average only about 4,000 weeks and then by showing us how we will not even get that amount of time to do the things we want because much of it will be frittered away in circumstances beyond our control.
Then, while other productivity gurus advertise their belief in the infinite ability of each individual human to accomplish their most cherished dreams, Burkeman professes that “maybe you simply lack the stamina or talent or other resources to perform well in all the roles you feel you should,” bringing up the uncomfortable subject of our personal limitations (30). He acknowledges that the feeling of not being good enough for our particular goals might actually be well founded and that avoiding this truth pushes us into counterproductive strategies “in an effort to carry on feeling limitless” (30). Contrary to the promise of the American Dream, no amount of hard work or stringent routine will ensure the fulfilment of some goals and wishes. Overall, Burkeman differs from other time management gurus in his rebuttal of the theory that we are just one time-management hack away from manifesting our dreams and that instead, we would do better to accept our personal and temporal limitations and pick our few areas of focus from there.
One of Burkeman’s most liberating pieces of advice is giving ourselves the permission to fail in certain areas so we can better devote ourselves to excelling in the things that matter most. When we can accept that we will perform below par in preselected activities, we remove the feeling of shame that will be attached to such failure. For example, Burkeman says that “a poorly kept lawn or a cluttered kitchen are less troubling when you’ve preselected ‘lawn care’ or ‘kitchen tidiness’ as goals to which you’ll devote zero attention” (238). However, Burkeman overlooks that while the scope to fail in domestic tasks frees the individual, it may put undue pressure on those who share their space. The messy lawn might be an eyesore for neighbors who have to look at it every day, while the individual’s refusal to tidy the kitchen could unfairly burden their partner with this responsibility. Although Burkeman acknowledges the sexist expectation that women “must excel in their careers while assuming most of the responsibilities at home” (34), he does not offer strategies towards a more egalitarian model of time management within the temporal and personal limitations that we all must accept with regard to gender considerations. This means that those who have traditionally held power may acquire more by following Burkeman’s philosophy at the expense of those who have traditionally held less. Arguably, this example proves his initial point that there is no perfect formula for how we spend our time and that privileging certain parts of life means that we will certainly neglect other areas that are important to us or those around us.
One of Burkeman’s most important points is that our contemporary view of time as an abstract entity is a relatively recent phenomenon, dating to the advent of the Industrial Revolution, about 200 years ago. Prior to this, Western civilization was organized in agrarian societies in which time was regarded as the period needed to complete certain tasks. People rose and went to bed with sun, meaning that their days were longer in summer and shorter in winter, and accounted for periods of time according to how long it took to complete certain tasks. For example, in medieval England people referred to a “Miserere whyle” for the time it took to recite Psalm 50, or a “pissing whyle” for the time it took to urinate (20). As their daily tasks, which involved engaging with organic matter such as land and animals, simply took as long as they needed, they had no concept of the relative passage of time, for example, whether it was going quickly or slowly.
Although clocks were invented and put to use in medieval monasteries, they did not dictate the rhythms of society as a whole until the Industrial Revolution. It was the opening of factories and the speeding up of life that held people accountable to the abstract minutes and hours of clock time. Once workers were subjected to the clock, their performance could be measured against that of their peers, and they could be promoted or demoted accordingly. While this led to an element of meritocracy, this new time-consciousness also created great anxiety about time being used well, as workers aped their capitalist employers’ view of themselves as a resource. As early as the first decade of the 20th century, the consciousness that there was not enough time to work and live up to one’s personal expectations was manifest. This feeling has only increased in the past century, paving the way for a plethora of productivity strategies and the invention of timesaving devices.
While in 1930, the British economist John Maynard Keynes conceived that modern technology would mean that workers would not have to work more than 15 hours a week and would have ample leisure time, Burkeman points out the falseness of this prediction as when people manage to meet their basic needs “they just find new things to need and new lifestyles to aspire to” (11). This is also evident in people’s ingratitude and impatience around timesaving devices like the microwave because “once you can heat your dinner in the microwave in sixty seconds, it begins to seem genuinely realistic that you might be able to do so instantaneously, in zero seconds – and thus all the more maddeningly frustrating that you still have to wait an entire minute instead” (164). He thus makes a convincing argument that the advantage of being able to accelerate manual processes fosters the illusion that they should go so fast that they should not inconvenience us at all. While in the 21st century we have found ways to make life efficient on an unprecedented level, Burkeman points out that this is not conducive to happiness. In a world where more of us are working from home than ever, such efficiency not only depletes our sense of community but deprives us of the vital daily interactions that boost our humanity and mental health. On a further level, while there is much contemporary anxiety about human jobs being replaced by artificial intelligence, our obsession with making life as efficient as possible has already nurtured a state of depersonalization that has taken us halfway there.
Finally, Burkeman shows how that other modern predicament of blaming the inventions of Silicon Valley for distracting us from the optimal use of our time, is only partially legitimate. While apps and social media channels are designed to hook us in and devote more time than we originally intended on them, we are willing co-conspirators in being distracted from what we have declared to be our most important work. This work, much like reading a book, a pastime that now frustrates people because it cannot be accelerated, can be taxing because it dictates its own time scale and skill requirements. Thus, our fear of temporal or personal limitation in relation to a certain goal is such that we will become bored and search for anyway to escape the feeling of entrapment. The Internet with its seeming infinity of possibilities thus seems the opposite of personal limitation and so becomes easily co-opted in our escape mission.
Many modern productivity gurus tout independence from the expectations that other people place on us as the ultimate goal. They celebrate the digital nomad, who can work from anywhere at any time is the best version of a modern success story, as this person is the least limited by the constraints of time and space. Burkeman however, makes the compelling argument that such independence is not conducive to happiness because it goes against our human need for socialization and the physical and mental health benefits that go with collaborating with others. Firstly, he points out that the term “digital nomad” is a misnomer, as the original nomads traveled in tribes rather than solo, had their schedules and itineraries dictated by the group and so benefited from a sense of community and belonging. This is important, because it shows the unnatural quality of this modern lifestyle and its lack of precedent in human history.
Then, Burkeman goes on to show how in separating from the rhythms of society at large, the digital nomad is inflicting themselves with the predicament imposed by totalitarian societies as a punishment. Premodern societies punished the worst offenders against the status quo with being “abandoned in some remote location where you couldn’t fall in with the rhythms of the tribe,” thus simulating the quality of rejection, which from an evolutionary perspective means being left to brave the wilderness on your own and, most likely, dying sooner (187). Then, more recently, Stalin’s Soviet Union in its mission to keep the factories running every day, and rapidly industrialize, enforced different weekends for different workers. This lack of communal recreation caused widespread misery and a sense of isolation amongst workers, who were insufficiently able to coordinate their leisure time with that of their loved ones. Many of today’s ambitious urban dwellers find that they cannot coordinate their schedules enough to see their loved ones as often as would benefit with them. In a climate where work and personal accomplishment gives foundation to one’s identity above everything else, interaction and collaboration with others is often brushed off as secondary, despite its proven benefits to personal wellbeing and the health of society as a whole.
While much modern productivity advice celebrates the notion that being liberated from the traditional working week and weekend ensures that you can allocate time as you like, Burkeman emphasizes the loneliness and lack of belonging that this has engendered. He argues that we will be more fulfilled in life if we make time to be with, work and help others despite having a limited amount of time. Drawing attention to the Swedish research that demonstrates how socially ordained work and leisure times are beneficial to people’s mental health, he shows that getting to dictate one’s schedule is overrated, whilst collaborating with others, even if that means giving up one’s control of time, is vastly underrated. Moreover, as we cannot escape that many of our biggest challenges are collective ones, such as climate change and addressing societal inequality, collaboration is the most realistic way forward, whilst living and working in a fantasy of control is self-serving and counterproductive. Overall, he shows how Western society must re-evaluate definitions of success and importance if it is to adequately respond to the demands of the future.