The productivity deception: everything you sacrifice for every minute saved

We live in the age of efficiency. We worship performance and bow down to productivity. Everything is designed to help us do more in less time. We have apps that remind us when to drink water, algorithms that optimize what we see and read, and, of course, countless video tutorials that teach us everything from how to fold a shirt to how to pack the “perfect” suitcase (there’s even one on how to use an egg carton – yes, it’s unbelievable, but true).

With the advent of AI, the words “efficiency” and “productivity” resonate more and more, like an echo that, through sheer repetition, becomes deafening. And of course, when everyone around you is shouting “efficiency,” it ends up convincing you that you have to do everything perfectly in the shortest possible time. But… what if this cult of efficiency is robbing us of the opportunity to experiment, make mistakes, discover, learn, and feel proud and confident in ourselves?

The origin of the efficiency myth and the productivity paradox

Long ago, before industrialization existed, there was a legion of spinners and weavers who clothed society. They were men and women proud of their work. Artisans who, although it would have been good to be more efficient and earn more, prioritized quality.

Brian Merchant recounts in his book “Blood in the Machines” that when the first looms were introduced, the artisans were shocked by the way the fabric was cut, something completely unthinkable in their hands. With mechanization came the need to produce more, faster, and with fewer errors. Factories introduced production lines, timers, and supervisors with one clear objective: to maximize the output of every worker and every machine.

This created a mindset where time was measured in productivity and a society where efficiency became an obligation.

In the late 19th and early 20th centuries, Frederick Taylor, considered the father of scientific management, formalized efficiency as a discipline. Taylor proposed studying each task, timing movements, and eliminating any “unnecessary” actions by the worker. The idea was simple: if every action could be optimized, production could be increased with less effort – at least in theory.

His philosophy not only transformed the industry, but also began to permeate work and social culture. The belief became widespread that if something could be done faster or better, it should be done. And if you didn’t, you were “wasting time,” or worse, you were labeled inefficient.

Gradually, efficiency became a moral standard: not only do we produce more, but we “must” produce more with less effort, fewer resources, and faster. But ironically, the more technology and optimization methods we have at our disposal, the more inefficient or inadequate we feel.

We fall into a paradox: the more we try to be efficient in everything, the more time and energy we spend perfecting methods and minimizing minor errors, and the less time we have to enjoy, experiment, or learn authentically. Efficiency promises us extra time, but in reality, it often only leaves us with the bitter feeling that “it’s never enough.”

Experiential learning, curiosity, and self-efficacy: what we sacrifice for efficiency

Good learning, the kind that leaves a lasting impression, rarely happens by following the paths others have laid out. It’s true that instructions can guide us, especially when facing a complex task (not for packing a suitcase, a necessary clarification in these times). But it’s also true that life isn’t an algorithm. Life demands a great deal of flexibility, improvisation, tenacity, and resilience.

Efficiency, taken to extremes, can become a trap because it teaches us to follow steps and procedures, but not to solve problems or adapt to the unexpected. Efficiency robs us of experiential learning, the kind that comes from trying something, failing, analyzing what went wrong, and trying again.

This process, although it may seem less “efficient” than following a step-by-step manual, strengthens our self-efficacy: the confidence in our ability to face challenges and find solutions on our own.

A study conducted at the University of Turku demonstrated that active learning methods (including experimentation, learning from mistakes, and iteration) contribute to developing a “flexible mindset” and greater resilience. Furthermore, psychologists at the University of Pittsburgh found that students who learn to identify their errors before receiving instructions develop a deeper level of reflection that they transfer to their learning.

Efficiency gives us speed, but it robs us of experience, reduces our autonomy, and above all, takes away the pleasure of the process or learning.

Furthermore, when we try to be efficient in everything, we stifle our curiosity. If everything has a shortcut, why explore? If everything has an exact recipe, why improvise? Extreme efficiency pushes us toward repetition, uniformity, and comfort. It turns us into consumers of instructions, rather than creators of experiences.

Curiosity awakens when we allow ourselves to explore without a fixed path, without fear of making mistakes. And this quality not only enriches our lives, but also increases our problem-solving abilities and keeps us flexible.

How to regain the freedom to make mistakes?

We don’t need to be more efficient; we need to live more, experience more, and make more mistakes. Extreme efficiency offers us speed and control, but at the cost of our curiosity, creativity, and self-confidence. Making mistakes isn’t a waste of time: it’s learning, adapting, and ultimately, enjoying the accomplishment.

1. Redefine the meaning of “success.” Not everything has to be fast or perfect. Success doesn’t always translate to “finished” or “optimized,” but rather to having learned something new, enjoyed the process, or discovered a different way of doing things. Sometimes, true achievement lies in resisting the urge to rush and allowing yourself to do something simply out of curiosity. Furthermore, not everything has to serve a purpose; some things simply serve to make us feel alive. And that, even if it can’t be plotted on a productivity chart and Frederick Taylor disapproved of it, also matters.
2. Allow yourself to make mistakes. Whenever possible, experiment and improvise. Cook without following the recipe to the letter, or assemble a piece of furniture without watching YouTube. Mistakes are the mind’s gym because they force you to stop, observe, adjust, and try again. After all, nobody learned to walk by reading a step-by-step manual.
3. Forget about tutorials – at least for a little while. In the age of “how to do everything in 5 minutes,” we’ve become dependent on video tutorials to do just about anything. But there’s something magical about improvising. Before you search for a video on “how to fold a fitted sheet in 3 steps,” try it your own way: it might not be perfect, but at least you’ll have used your creativity. And if it goes wrong, you’ll have a funny story to tell (or a tangled sheet, which is also quite an achievement).
4. Celebrate the attempts, not just the results. Applaud the fact that you tried, even if you ended up with a cake that looks like a rock or a wobbly piece of furniture. Every failed attempt brings you closer to a better result. Besides, that “I did it myself” feeling has a much deeper psychological effect than following a tutorial and getting it right the first time. When you dare to experiment, you reinforce the idea that you can learn anything, even if you stumble along the way. As Samuel Beckett said: “Fail again. Fail better.”
5. Learn from frustration. That uncomfortable feeling we experience when something doesn’t go our way isn’t a sign of inadequacy, but rather a signal that our brain is restructuring connections to adapt to something new. Essentially, it’s the mental equivalent of muscle soreness after exercise. Frustration is, in fact, a sign of growth because it indicates that we’re aware of our shortcomings. So the next time you get frustrated while assembling a bookshelf, remember that you’re gaining skills. And that’s worth more than any efficiency medal.

Life, ultimately, isn’t an Excel spreadsheet we need to optimize. It’s more like a trial-and-error lab, where some experiments fail and others simply… surprise us. Perhaps the real revolution isn’t about doing everything faster, but about rediscovering the joy in the process, even if it’s not perfect.

So the next time you find yourself trying to pack the “perfect” suitcase by following a video, remember: you might lose ten more minutes, but you’ll gain experience, creativity, and a unique experience. Perhaps the best thing we can do is stop obsessing over efficiency and simply start living and exploring.

References:

Heljakka, K. (2023) Building playful resilience in higher education: Learning by doing and doing by playing. Front. Educ.; 8: 10.3389.

Mason, A. et. Al. (2009) Self-Diagnosis, Scaffolding and Transfer: A Tale of Two Problems.
Physics Education; 1179: 27-30.