Perfect is the enemy of good.
Well hello, and welcome back friends, to Productivity, Without Privilege! Happy holidays! This newsletter is actually going to be a bit of a blast from the past. I actually had this one written AGES ago, but when the service that powers this newsletter made a UI switch, I never actually scheduled it to send. I thought that I had, but....well...here it is in the drafts folder. Let's fix that and get it out to you this week, just ahead of the holidays, shall we?
Oh, before I forget: I’m Alan Henry, your host, your confidant, and the author of Seen, Heard, and Paid, the book you surely know about already, but if not, grab a copy and get your holiday shopping out of the way early. Buy one for yourself! Buy one for a friend! Buy one for your enemies! Buy five copies! Okay, that concludes the shilling portion of our program.
So let’s get right into it. This week I want to talk about a basic tenet of productivity that I think is often lost, especially this time of year: Perfect is the enemy of good, and good, truly, is all you need to be.
You’ve probably heard that phrase already, that perfect is the enemy of good. I’m just here to reiterate it, because this is a particularly difficult time for a lot of us for a variety of reasons. Of course, it’s the last quarter of the year, so along with everyone trying to get business wrapped up to close out 2022, a lot of people will be planning for 2023 and asking you and your colleagues for your goals and your big swings and your ideas and all that other stuff that’s supposed to be inspiring but really just runs the risk of making sure you’re committed to a lot of work next year. And of course, this is also what I fondly call “obligation season,” where your own desires and needs often take a backseat to the things you owe your family, friends, children, partners, and everyone else in your life, whether that means you have to book travel you’d rather not pay for, or hassle you’d really rather avoid, even if it’s all in the spirit and joy of celebrating the end of another year.
But it’s also the time of the year where we all collectively put a lot of energy and effort into things that aren’t really for us, and hope for the best that they’ll be enough for someone else. Whether that’s energy into their gifts, into a meal, into our travel plans, into our houses and homes and decorations, into our work, whatever, it’s a time where we output a lot of energy in the hopes we’ll be viewed favorably, or even loved. And I want to remind you now, before it gets into the weeds, that it’s worth it, and even when you’re not sure if it is, it is. Because you’re worth it, and you don’t intrinsically need to turn your energy and effort into a transaction for someone else’s consumption.
An acquaintance of mine, an exceptionally talented creative, regularly shares her woes with me over the pain and heartache she puts into her work. She’s an expert in her field, so she knows full well when she’s phoning it in versus when she’s busting her ass. But lately she’s run up against a few challenges that she had to seek outside help and perspective over. She got that help, but sadly it wasn’t really the help she wanted, and she’s devastated over it.
When I heard about her troubles, I asked her: “Well, based on the people who consume your work, will they be able to notice the issues you described? Will they feel like it’s as much of a departure from your standard as you know that it is from your perspective?”
“No,” she said, “but I’ll know!”
“That makes sense,” I replied, “but they won’t know. Not unless you tell them. That means you’re finished the work, truly. It may not be up to your personal standard, and that’s fine. But make no mistake, there’s a different standard creatives hold themselves to than audiences hold their creatives to,” I explained. She pushed back, which of course she did—I probably would have too if I were in her shoes.
“Here’s the thing though,” I said. “I’m not telling you to be lazy, or to lower your standards. I’m just saying that the time and energy you’re spending on this—something no one but you will truly know or be displeased with—is time you could be spending on something new, something better, or at worst, fixing whatever was wrong in the first place for next time, instead of holding everything up today.”
I didn’t expressly tell her (although I wish now that I had,) that perfection is the enemy of good enough, but you see the point. I’m willing to bet that she, like many of us, routinely beat ourselves up for producing work that may not be ideal to us but that make other people, whether they’re an audience, a manager, a team, or even the public, very very happy.
I catch myself in this a lot: once I get going on something special to me, if it doesn’t get the results I want, or if I knew that if I just put a little more effort into it it could be something way better, sometimes I freeze. I decide that I absolutely must put that time and effort into the thing, or else the thing isn’t worth doing. And then I wait. I wait for the time to put that effort in, or the energy to exert that effort to come. And all the while, the clock is ticking. My opportunities to do the thing at all, whether the results are good or bad, are slowly slipping away. Does that sound familiar to you?
It certainly sounds familiar to me, both professionally (waiting on new projects and new initiatives until I think I know what I’m doing, meanwhile the thing I’m tasked with isn’t getting done and people are waiting on me) and personally (holding off starting a passion project, vacation, or even seeing friends until I feel like the time is right, when I know there’s never a “right” time.) I talk to my therapist about it all the time.
So this week I want to challenge you, and myself, to something simple: know when to stop when you’re putting in 110 percent, and trust that your efforts are good enough to be judged. And conversely, take the time you would have spent on perfectionism, and use it to start something new that you’ve been putting off.
That latter part is important. Remember, the goal of productivity is to spend less time on the things you have to do so you can spend more time on the things that matter to you. So take everything you would have spent on perfectionism and use that time and energy on something new, something fresh.
Me? The next time I worry that I’m spending too much time on my inbox, or languishing over getting some documentation just right, I’ll forgive myself, trust in my skills, and use that time to dive into those new projects. I hope I can encourage you to, as well. Remember, there’s no “right” time for things like taking care of yourself or looking out for your own interests, passions, or needs. There’s only right now.
[ Worth Reading ]
Wait, why are there so few dead bugs on my windshield these days? By Andrew Van Dam: One of the best things a news feature or piece of social analysis can do, in my view, is surprise and delight someone—tackle something that everyone kind of knows is true, and then find out if it’s actually true, and why or why not. In this case, if you’re my age you probably remember taking road trips and essentially having to powerwash the dead bugs off of the front of the car. But you also may have long forgotten the last time you had to do that, even if you still do a lot of driving. Well, a combination of factors, from climate to car design to the way people travel all have an impact here, and this great read gets right to the bottom of it.
Talking about Marginalization without Marginalizing, by Sheeva Azma and Kelly Tabbutt (Fancy Comma, LLC): I’m normally loathed to link to a Substack, but this is one of those moments where the content is good even if the platform is problematic. My good friend LaVonne Roberts sent this over to me, and sure enough, it’s a master read on how you can discuss issues of marginalization and discrimination in virtually any space without making the people you’re talking to feel uncomfortable in a way that discourages them from taking corrective action. Tabbutt is the one who wrote the top, with those tips for conversation, but Azma put together the rest of the newsletter, in case you’re not sure who is who. It’s all great information though, and a good guide to discussing marginalization in your own spaces, whether you’re a privileged person or not. (And thank you LaVonne for the tip!)
That Cardboard Box in Your Home Is Fueling Election Denial, by Justin Elliott, Megan O’Matz, and Doris Burke: Every few years this story comes back up, and it’s a good thing because people seem to forget too often. The gist is this: The CEO, founder, and owner of U-Line, one of the largest cardboard box companies in the world, and certainly the largest in the United States, is a huge, and I mean huge donor to right-wing, alt-right, and far-right political candidates and causes, and recently, that includes insurrectionists, election deniers, anti-semites and racists, and more. The company’s owners are notoriously secretive when it comes to interviews and such, but their money speaks volumes.
[ See You, Space Cowboy ]
Back when this newsletter was new, I was going to use this space to promote my lecture at the University of Maryland, my alma mater. But well, that was over a month ago, even though I'm still reeling from how wonderful it was.
But if I can recommend anything to you right now, ahead of the holidays, is to make some room for your own peace. Don't read anything or watch anything or consume anything you don't already want to. This season is rife with obligations to other people, whether you're ready and willing to take them on or not. Protect your heart, and make sure you make room for yourself and your own well-being. Look after the people around you. Hold them warmly in your arms, and in your heart.
I'll see you back here in 2023. Happy holidays, and a very happy new year.