curiosity

What can you drop?

Yeah, you’re right, probably nothing. Or nothing you haven’t ditched already. Because everything matters. And even when it doesn’t, it feels like it does.

Which would be fine if it all fit neatly into the day with no awkward spillage either side.[1] It’s just that, quite often, it doesn’t. So something needs to give. But what?

Thing is, when you’re used to doing loads it’s quite the mindgame to do less. We can chant what got you here won’t get you there in unison, but it can still feel like doing less = delivering less. When actually, it creates space to deliver more that matters.[2] And the more ingrained that desire to do more, the harder it is to strike stuff off your slate.

Which is where one in, one out comes in. When the leaders I work with are overworked we agree that if they add something to their slate, they have to drop something else. (Which can’t be themselves.) Because yes, they’re remarkable but no, they’re not infinite.

So how to decide what’s for the chop? Get curious, of course!

What are your inexplicable obligations? 🕸️

Feel obliged to do something? Can’t find a good reason for it? That’s an explicable obligation. It’s a like being caught in a web which even the spider has thought “meh”, and buggered off.3 We all have ‘em:

Things you do because you feel you ought to
Things for which there’s no discernible reason beyond that’s how we roll
Things for which there is a solid reason, but not one that justifies the effort
Things you feel you ought to do, but don’t, but then spend so much time contemplating it would’ve been faster just to do them in the first place

Sometimes a fresh pair of eyes is all you need. Like when a leader I worked with joined a team and discovered that the entire week was scheduled in conference calls.[3] 😩 No one had time to do the actual job. She thought “WTF”, politely declined everything, and started again with just two calls. And reader: stuff got done.[4]

Yep, an extreme example. But inexplicable obligations are neither unusual nor the preserve of idiots. That team had plenty of smart, forward-thinking people, but their process was bananas. Or had stealthily become bananas.[5] That’s part of the problem with inexplicable obligations. They’re often so well absorbed into the bloodstream of process (yours, the organisation’s) that they barely register. So your energy continues to be sucked up by tasks that don’t pull their weight.

What to do? A timely WTF can help. Or just look at your slate and get curious:

Why should you do this now?
According to whom?
Does the end justify the means?
What or who does that end serve?

You’ll probably have solid, indisputable reasons for most stuff. But there’ll almost certainly be something you can’t quite pin down. For which your reasons are vague. Or, if you’re honest, a bit suspect. This is the stuff to inspect up close. Does it pull its weight? Or is it an explicable obligation that deserves to be ditched?[6]

Who is this for?

Maybe you did all of that, and everything’s still on your slate. Maybe, while asking those questions, you realised there was stuff missing from your slate so now you’ve even more to do. 😖

In which case, ask yourself: who is this for? Who benefits from it – and in whose eyes? Do your beneficiaries value their apparent good fortune? Or do they [deep breath] not actually care? If they do care, should they own the task instead? Perhaps because they’re more invested in it. Or perhaps because they value the outcome but need to understand what goes into it. And if they really don’t care then, well, should you?

Years ago when I worked at… no actually, I’ll keep that to myself. When I worked at [ahem, cough] a lovely colleague with a firm belief in transparency would keep us in the loop. With absolutely bloody everything. Cue REAMS of e-mails, with everyone ‘cc’ed.[7] And the thing is, we needed to know almost none of it. My heart still sinks at the recollection.

My colleague wasn’t doing this to entertain himself. He did it because he thought we valued it. He didn’t check that assumption, and we didn’t disabuse him of it. It just became an inexplicable obligation: for him to overload us, and for us to wade (resentfully) through the overload.

Of course some stuff is worth doing even though it seems unappreciated. But sometimes no one benefits, or not enough to justify the effort. So again, look at who benefits from any given task. Find out: ask people if that benefit’s real or imagined, and for whom. Then decide whether it deserves its place on your slate, or someone else’s – or, frankly, no one’s.

A note of caution.[8] You might conclude that something is of benefit, and could be done by someone else, but that you’ll do it faster. You might be bang on. But in itself that’s not a reason to hold on to it. You’re not the only person who deserves to build that expertise. Or to learn from a few cock ups. And besides, if you keep doing stuff that doesn’t belong to you, you’ll be forever squeezing the stuff that does.

Where are your ghosts? 👻

Not that sort. I mean the “legacy” projects, ideas, even full blown products that still lurk in your calendar. It’s often stuff you conceived and nurtured and walked through fire to get up and running. Stuff that had meaning, and purpose. Perhaps it even made you who you were. But it isn’t relevant to who you are now. And, moreover, to who you might become.

Like wot, though?

Sometimes you start something, it runs its course, and then lingers. A mate of mine used to run ‘un-office hours’. And continued to do so long after it’d stopped being useful to him. There it was in his calendar, week in, week out, blocking up time he could be using elsewhere. He ended up ignoring it, or working round it, but it was still occupying space in the back of his mind. Until he finally ditched it. Phew.

Or sometimes you build something with huge potential – that’s never quite reached. One leader told me about an innovation project she’d worked on that could’ve been game-changingly brilliant. If people had wanted it. They didn’t. But the whole team was so invested they wouldn’t let it die. Thing is, I get that. Sometimes you do have to bide your time. Sometimes you do need to show grit and determination. And sometimes you just have to let it go so you can do something better instead.

FWIW, I think it’s bloody hard to give stuff up. Even more so if it once meant a lot to you. Closing my beloved choir seven years ago felt like exactly the right decision at the right time. But it was still a proper wrench. Likewise, an entrepreneur I know recently handed on the book group he founded 12 years ago. Then, it had been his escape from the madness of starting and scaling a new business. Now it was sucking the joy out of reading.

Some ghosts are easy to spot. A quick squiz at your calendar and they whack you in the face. Others are more resistant to daylight, lingering in the uncertain realms of ‘but’ and ‘maybe’ and ‘if’. Be brave. Slip on your proton pack and fire off some impertinent questions. After all, what have you got to lose? More to the point, what can’t you afford to keep?

🤔 Get curious about what you can drop with 5 impertinent questions

It’s not always easy to start, but impertinent questions can help. Download ‘em here. Try applying them to your schedule over the next fortnight, and run experiments on your assumptions. What actually happens when you drop, delegate or ditch altogether? Drop me a line and let me know! (I love hearing from you, I’m nosy. Etc.)

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.


[1] And we’re off with the caveats! First up: maybe it does fit neatly. Maybe you thrive on the no-distinction between work and not-work. Actually, isn’t that a Gen Z trend, what with the whole digital nomad thing? Or are we just telling them it’s something they aspire to in the hope they don’t notice that being a nomad is your only option when you can’t afford the rent?

[2] Because, for example, it’s of higher value to the business. Or because it’s more relevant to your team. Or because it makes your heart sing.

[3] This was well before Zoom, so they were old skool calls down a scratchy phone line. Fun times. 😭

[4] Although not everyone was happy about it. Changing stuff, and particularly dropping stuff, can ruffle feathers. But that’s not a reason not to do it. Just don’t be a dick for the sake of it.

[5] Stealthy bananas! 🤣 Anyone? No? Just me then. 😳

[6] Ooh! I'm going to start something called The Ditchery. A repository of stuff that bites the dust. Send me yours!

[7] It wasn’t everyone. It was about five people. It just felt like everyone, especially when we all felt obliged to reply and add to the inbox madness.

[8] Or rather, another note. Everything I write is drenched in caution ­– I bloody love a caveat!

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.


[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. 😂

Be a better leader: get curious

One size doesn’t fit all. There’s no one way to be a leader, and just because that ‘tried and tested’ advice worked for them doesn’t mean it will for you. Or even could. So consider yourself released. From the expectation that effective leaders do x or y. And the bafflement that z seems to hinder, not help.

Instead: get curious. Find out how you can be a better leader.