Strict Simplicity Rules Often Create More Work

When Oliver Burkeman, a writer of books about time and limits, was asked how he simplifies his life, he said he had to answer honestly.

"I have tried so many ways to simplify my life, only to discover that in subtle ways they've actually had the opposite effect."

His point is that pretty much any system needs upkeep, so a practice meant to simplify can end up adding complication.

As one random example he likes, Burkeman points to Barack Obama, who he thinks wore two shades of suit so he would face fewer daily choices and keep more energy for important ones later in the day.

That worked for Obama, Burkeman notes, partly because Obama was president and had a team to keep his suits in perfect condition. For most people, keeping enough clean copies of a uniform ready, and thinking through the setup and upkeep, would likely add work.

For Burkeman, it is probably simpler to open the wardrobe and pick something that is there, that is clean, and that basically works.

He says the same about time-boxing his week for calls and interviews to protect time for writing. In theory it is a decision filter that saves deliberation.

In practice, he says, it creates tough calls about saying no, or anxious debates about whether someone important deserves an exception. Imposing the rule does not end up simplifying his life.

He sees the same problem in what he called a perfectly simple apartment, "all clean lines and stark bare surfaces." It may be beautiful, he says, but keeping it that way is psychologically high maintenance.

What has actually helped him, an idea he says he took especially from Zen Buddhism, is that true simplicity "is not a question of techniques." He calls it an attitude, a less clinging relationship to reality.

That means passing through days, in his words, "less bothered by whether things are one way or another." It is less about keeping a minimalist home, he says, and more about "not being made anxious because the home is a bit messy," or unable to work until every bit of clearing up is done.

It also means returning fluidly to work after an interruption, rather than rigidly defending the schedule. He describes it as entrusting everything to reality, and learning, in the phrase of Krishnamurti, an Indian teacher and speaker on the mind, to "not mind what happens."

That is not passivity, Burkeman argues. Once a person accepts that reality is as it is, he says, that person can take bold action on the things he really wants to do.