Deadlines

Even now as I type this on a Friday afternoon, when I should be enjoying the start of the long Labor Day weekend, I feel the weight of one of my work deadlines calling out to me from next week. I can’t relax knowing the deadline is out there, already joining forces with my self-imposed home project deadlines and parenting responsibility deadlines. As soon as one deadline is met, another reveals itself. So that a never-ending to-do list constantly fills the yellow legal pad atop my work desk.

Each handwritten “to do” line goes down so easily with a small hollow box at the left of it to signify its incompleteness. Do or check this. Call or email by this date. All the to-do items are pieces of a puzzle to getting something done by a particular date; a deadline. It’s a fantastic feeling to write what I have to do down onto a list because it leaves my head for a while, and I know if it’s on my list, I won’t forget about it.

Yet, once the to-do item is safely written down and tucked away from the present, it seemingly balloons in size–a vastly disproportionate size–compared to the simplicity of the task. Why? Because when I look down at my to-do list at the end of the day, I don’t see the single line item, I see the entire list. In much the same manner that I at first don’t see a single brick when I encounter a wall made of bricks, only the imposing wall pulls my attention.

The futility of finishing one deliverable, only to race to another, is ever more acute for me, as the products I’m delivering these days are intangible. I don’t get to touch what I make. I can only stare at my product through a screen. And once it’s produced, it’s forgotten, a blur of numbers and dates. Lately, I’ve been nostalgically looking back at my carpenter days. When at the end of each day I could look back and physically see what I’d done for the day. What I’d produced with my hands, would be around longer than me. Decades, maybe centuries after I depart the world the tall concrete buildings that line the downtowns of Bay Area cities will be a nameless relic of my labor. But my schedules? They don’t have the same lasting feeling.

Not that I’d truly want to go back to physical labor. I’m not sure my bad back could handle it again and I do realize that complaining about sitting down all day and typing into a keyboard to meet deadlines is a first-world problem. But it’s interesting for me to see the difference in what makes work satisfying for me. Working with my hands wins in the satisfaction department, but not the quality of life department, if the two can really be separated.

Nature’s Deadlines

People like to say that money makes the world go round, but I like to believe deadlines do. Money drives deadlines, but it goes much deeper and older than that. Deadlines are the oldest of rules, not stemming from humans, but by mother nature. Today it’s easy to see deadlines are fueled by the transfer of money; You do this for me by this date, and I’ll pay you this amount of money, if not you don’t get paid, or worse, you get penalized because we’re in contract. But that’s not where this deadline stuff started, nor where it will end. From the beginning of time nature has given us deadlines as rules for survival. The cycles of winter and summer, high and low tide, day and night; cycles that have written the first rules by which we humans have learned to obey or die. Seed and harvest by this season, cross the ocean before the trade winds wane, stock fuel and food before the first frost, go to war in the spring. Namely, winters, wind, and oceans have been the masters of our world.

A View of ye General & Coasting Trade-Winds, Monsoons or ye Shifting Trade  Winds through ye World, Variations &c. . . . - Barr… | Map, Antique maps, Historical  maps
The trade winds and monsoon seasons dictated the world economy for centuries. Especially so during the Age of Sail, when square-rigged ships couldn’t sail into the wind.

Technology has helped us overcome a majority of nature’s hurdles. Those who could deliver faster became the most successful. Those with money or bigger armies could have things sooner. And it goes on compounding like this to the present day, where we expect things now. The ability to deliver in a timely manner is what gives companies the edge in any business. This is where I find myself, swept up in the deliverance of now. The construction industry seemingly lives off dates and schedules and tracking why things are delayed. It’s a constant state of doing things solely for the future, not for the present.

As much as deadlines fill my existence with stress, I’m also the beneficiary of some of these worldly deadlines that define and give basic rules and boundaries to the world we live in. I expect my payroll department to direct deposit my week’s paycheck by a set date each week. The same goes with the trash I place on my curb each Tuesday evening, not thinking twice about it magically getting picked up on Wednesday, same with the mail. On job sites, I expect my subcontractors to finish their work by a predetermined date, enforced by the contract of course.

And so we are all locked into this world of deadlines, fueled by money, and enforced by law, and carried out by overworked and stressed out employees.

I would love to be set free from this world of dates and deadlines, at least from the part of the deadline deliverer, and more of the role of deadline beneficiary. This is the allure of Financial Independence for me. Freedom from the stress of constantly having something that needs to get done. I’m tired of worrying about the time and the date, no matter the time and the date. There will be a day I’m set free from the workplace and its deadline-filled offices, but I still have a few years yet to handle and deal with work deadlines.

Parkinson’s Law

So I’ve delved into finding ways to be more productive with my deadlines–I guess now I should admit I’m a procrastinator. This efficiency search has really been a quest into eliminating my bad habits, but I have found one thing that is of unusual interest for the realm of productivity. I’ve encountered Parkinson’s Law and it’s brilliant. And yes, I further procrastinated my work by spending time researching this interesting theory.

The summation of the law is taken from the opening of an essay written in 1955 for the Economist:

“It is a commonplace observation that work expands so as to fill the time available for its completion. Thus, an elderly lady of leisure can spend the entire day in writing and despatching a postcard to her niece at Bognor Regis. An hour will be spent in finding the postcard, another in hunting for spectacles, half-an-hour in a search for the address, an hour and a quarter in composition, and twenty minutes in deciding whether or not to take an umbrella…”

British naval historian and author Cyril Northcote Parkinson
TUESDAY-WALT'S PEOPLE "Fifteen" C. Northcote Parkinson - Disney History  Institute

Parkinson wrote this essay, which I quoted above, after conducting a survey of the British civil service. The essay was meant as satire but proved so popular that he wrote a book on the law a few years later.

This law establishes that no matter what, work will fill up our time. The more time alloted to get something done, the longer it will take to get the task done. Our level of effort will stretch out to the length it takes to finish something. Sort of the way that larger homes tend to gradually have more things inside than smaller homes. You could probably even equate this theory to the classic generalization of: “The more money you make the more money you’ll spend…” line. Those of us pursuing Financial Independence know that the lifestyle inflation element is very real, but can also be circumvented to benefit someone pursuing freedom.

For me, there’s respite in knowing that there’s an actual theory out there supporting why I might never finish early and always finish just on time. I can see now why my home improvement projects linger. Why my blog posts are so irregular. Because my attempt at having no deadlines in my home life only allows me to move the goalposts. As much as I despise having to get things done by a certain time, there really is a benefit to the discipline. At work, at least I have others depending on me finishing on time. It’s much harder to make a deadline when the only person who will know about it is you.

For what its worth, after reading Parkinson’s essay, I’ve been reconsidering my position on forcing myself to not publish regular blog posts. The benefits of not having a posting schedule may not outweigh the nagging bit of guilt I carry around knowing I haven’t written on the blog in a while. Or not, I’ve been reading more in the last two months than I have in over a year. Now that my daughter is starting to read chapter books, we’ve been going to the library more often, which has gotten me in the mood to read like I used to. This does impede on my blog writing, but it’s not a lose lose situation.

4 day work week

This invariably leads me to the current topic floating around the news about the 4 day work week. If Parkinson’s theory is true, wouldn’t that justify that the same amount of work can be done in four days rather than five? It seems like around the world people are conducting “trials” of the four-day work week. With governments like New Zealand, Scotland, Iceland, and Spain joining in, to name a few. I think it’s admirable to see these governments and some corporations trying, but is there really a chance that the world will adopt a four-day workweek? Why only trials? Can’t any government just make it permanent and call it a day?

Before the 1938 Fair Labor Standards Act, it was commonplace for Americans to work 6 days a week or more. The original version of this bill was for a 30 hour work week! We all know that it ended up being a 40 hour week, with provisions for overtime pay. So maybe it can be as simple as a piece of legislation passed by congress, the only barrier being the complexity of congress agreeing on something.

Some anecdotal evidence from my dealing with schedules and getting things done in “cycles”. The plumbers and sheet metal workers out here in San Francisco only work 7 hours a day. We still give them the same amount of time to do their work as guys working 8 hour days. And guess what? They get the same amount of work done as everyone else on our concrete deck cycles and interior finish cycles. The only difference being they work 35 hours a week…and fulfill Parkinson’s Law.

When we have 4 day deck concrete cycles (pouring a floor every 4 days), it’s in our contracts that everyone needs to meet this 4 day deadline. And they do. Regardless of overtime. Regardless of weather or other variables. On the good days we work till 3PM, while bad days with high winds or delay issues we work till 10PM, but we hit the goal we set out for of pouring every 4 days. The caveat being we’re upfront about the deadline and everyone knows what they signed up for. People complain, but the job gets done.

What’s funny is we always ramp up to a 4 day cycle. Meaning, before the 4 day cycle, the floor below is a 5 day cycle. Below that a 6 day cycle. Before that a 7 day cycle. And so on. Each pour building up to the typical 4 day cycle it’s always a mad rush of finishing just on time. Even though the floors are exactly the same footprint and layout as the one before! We never finish early or go faster on the lower floors that have extra days. Not till we change our deadlines do we start working faster doing the exact same thing we did on the floor below. Again, Parkinson’s Law looks to be very true from my construction productivity vantage point.

Humans will get things done when the deadline is set and the game is fair. How can an employer argue against getting more done in a shorter time frame? I see a 4 day work week benefiting the company and employee. Less time spent on a job means more profit, in construction it does anyway when jobs are bid lump sum.

Who wouldn’t want a four-day workweek and why haven’t we tried to go this route earlier? That seems like something anyone from any political party can get on board with. Blue collar and white collar would stand to benefit from it. I guess the better question is who stands to lose the most if the American worker were to only go to work four days a week? Not the worker. More like the guys at the top.

I wonder how many people would reconsider FIRE if every weekend was a three-day weekend. Not only would work-life balance be more balanced, but it may also help the environment with fewer cars on the road. I have a few friends who’ve worked 4 ten-hour days at the local refineries for over a decade now. They love that arrangement. My dad tells me stories from his early days in the union where every Friday was considered a “Black Friday”, meaning they had the four-day workweek for a while back in the seventies.

It’s easy to conclude that a four-day workweek is an impossible dream. Hell, I even fall into that camp. I feel it’s an even harder uphill climb for Americans who pride themselves on their overworked busy schedules and our gridlocked Congress. But if the workweek has been trimmed down before, it can be done again. All we need is a unified voice.

What about you? How do you deal with deadlines and time management? What are your thoughts on the 4 day work week?


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