Productive procrastination is different from your garden-variety procrastination in that it’s no mere waste of time. It’s one thing to wile away the hours idly scrolling through Twitter or watching some brain-numbing reality TV show on Netflix, but it’s another thing altogether to write an article, answer some 50 emails, clean one’s room, or do any number of productive, necessary things in a bid to delay the inevitable, onerous, seemingly insurmountable task.
I am a chronic list-maker. There is nothing more satisfying than striking an item off a list, even if the item is something as easy and mundane as "wake up", "shower", or "make my bed". My go-to first item is "write letters to family", which consists of scrawling numerous postcards to my numerous siblings. Finishing smaller, yet still important tasks helps me feel calmer and more organised, (hopefully) motivating me to tackle my larger, more important tasks. Of course, there is the danger of becoming so engrossed by all my less important, easy and enjoyable tasks that I never get around to the thing that needs to be done.
For the longest time, I thought I had invented the term "productive procrastination" and would gleefully inform my friends of this new life-hack I had discovered whenever they happened to complain about something they were putting off. Turns out, the term was coined by Piers Steel in his 2010 book, The Procrastination Equation. It has also been described as "structured procrastination" by philosopher John Perry in his 1995 essay of the same name, which begins as such: "I have been intending to write this essay for months. Why am I finally doing it? Because I finally found some uncommitted time? Wrong. I have papers to grade, textbook orders to fill out, an NSF proposal to referee, dissertation drafts to read. I am working on this essay as a way of not doing all of those things." I feel seen and heard.
I think productive procrastination is a good thing for a number of reasons. Firstly, it helps me get more done than if I were to plainly procrastinate. Secondly, the combination of anxiety over my important tasks with the thrill of avoidance renders me strangely creative. I find myself thinking up new ideas for paintings or short stories, or rearranging my room so that it better adheres to the principles of feng shui. And sometimes I can even trick myself into tackling other unpleasant tasks that are in themselves less aversive than the most important thing at the top of my list.
But this artificial busyness can be dangerous, to the point where it seriously impinges upon my work and study life. It can also be awfully anxiety-inducing, especially when I procrastinate on my most important tasks for too long. I also worry that productive procrastination can lead me to procrastinate more, as it lulls me into a false sense of security and enables me to do enough to get by.
Essentially, it amounts to a case of short-term relief at the expense of long-term stress. I know, deep down, that regardless of how many emails or postcards I write, how vigorously I scrub the bathtub, or how meticulously I order the books on my bookshelf, my thesis is still there, like a millstone around my neck, threatening to drag me into the depths of academic ignominy and parental shame.
I don’t know how to break this habit. But then again, I’m not sure I want to. At least with productive procrastination, some things get done, and I trick myself into a false sense of security, until sheer panic kicks in and I’m forced to confront the large, terrifying task.
Productive procrastination offers me the joy and satisfaction of achievement, coupled with the convenience and self-deception of avoidance. And in a way, this internal tussle, this back-and-forth between my rational mind and my desire to paint my nails, clean out the fridge or see to any number of vaguely important tasks is fun. I wouldn’t be myself without it.
- Jean Balchin, a former English student at the University of Otago, is studying at Oxford University after being awarded a Rhodes Scholarship.
