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Oliver BurkemanA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
The German philosopher Martin Heidegger wrote in Being and Time (1927) about his amazement that there is any kind of life at all, as opposed to nothing. He states that the human condition is to be preoccupied with time, knowing that our end will arrive, but not knowing precisely when. Rather than stating that we have a limited amount of time, Heidegger conceived that we “are a limited amount of time” and that this state defines us (59). Burkeman argues that adopting a Heideggerian perspective on time makes him aware of his limitations. This is because his life-trajectory thus far limits what opportunities are available to him in the present, and any future decision he makes will close off a theoretically infinite number of other options. Heidegger’s central question concerns whether we will confront the finitude of our existence. He was aware of how people chose myriad distractions, such as busyness or living our lives according to a prescribed formula, to avoid confronting the responsibility of finitude.
In his book, This Life (2019), the Swedish philosopher Martin Hägglund argues that life’s finitude is what gives it its meaning. If we thought that nothing would ever end and inhabited a sort of eternity, then nothing could truly matter. Burkeman argues that both those who believe in eternal life and those who believe that they can cram everything they want to do into the hours they have are equally “living in denial of the fact that their time is limited; so when it comes to deciding how to use any given portion of that time, nothing can be genuinely at stake for them” (63). We can only be truly present in our lives when we accept the certainty of death. Indeed, Burkeman maintains that near-death experiences often help people develop a more authentic and valuable relationship with time because they appreciate it as a finite quantity and move to prioritize the things that matter most.
We might also turn around the dissatisfaction that life feels unsatisfyingly short with gratitude for the fact that we get any time to live at all. Instead of feeling entitled to our time and control over it, we should appreciate the miracle of our existence. We can thus notice more what we are doing in the present and embrace it affirmatively, rather than seeing our incapacity to do everything as a form of defeat.
Burkeman argues that managing our time does not only concern what to do, but what to leave out. Given our limited amount of time, procrastination is inevitable; however, the trick is to procrastinate on the things that allow you to devote time to what matters most.
Where the philosophers were reluctant to dispense practical advice, contemporary productivity gurus have sought to fill in the gap. Burkeman draws attention to Stephen Covey’s 1994 book, First Things First, which teaches that as long as people get the most important tasks done first, they will inevitably have time for more trivial things. Burkeman considers this a lie, simply because there are too many important things to do. The real problem of time-management is deciding between them.
Burkeman cites some more helpful strategies, including Jessica Abel’s strategy to simply seize time at the beginning of the day for a project that means the most to you, even if that means neglecting other important tasks. Then, he argues that we should limit taking on multiple projects, which often means that we stall progress in all of them and never finish anything. Instead, we should hold ourselves to finishing the most important project before picking up something else. In doing so, we will appreciate that our work capacity is finite.
While good procrastinators accept that they will never accomplish everything and make discerning choices about what to take on and what to ignore, bad procrastinators are paralyzed by the thought of giving up anything at all, because that would mean confronting their limitations. This type of procrastination shows up in the professional sphere as well as in dating, as people fear the foreclosure of alternative possibilities. The French philosopher Henri Bergson argues in Time and Free Will (1889) that we put off making decisions because we like to imagine an expansive future where all the possibilities we cherish will be possible.
While the notion of settling has a bad reputation in our dream-obsessed culture, Burkeman argues that we will end up in this state regardless of whether we make decisions or seek to keep our options open. In the dating sphere, the person who refuses to settle for a partner who fulfils only half of their wishes, will default into another form of settling where they must accept that they will spend another period alone, striving for the perfect partner. Burkeman views that the commitment-phobic dreamer who moves from one romantic partner to another is afraid of confronting finitude because being in a relationship means coming to terms with an individual’s limitations and forsaking the fantasy partner for a real person.
Ironically, though people agonize over important life decisions, once they do choose one way over another, they experience relief and enjoy engaging in their commitment rather than pining over alternative paths. This is because “when you can no longer turn back, anxiety falls away, because now there’s only one direction to travel: forward into the consequences of your choice” (88).
Another problem that surfaces in the sphere of time-management is that of distraction. Distraction can be defined as spending our limited time and attention on pursuits we never intended to engage with as opposed to our passions. The advent of the Internet and social media have brought distraction to the foreground, although our capacity to fritter away our attention has disturbed philosophers as far back as ancient Greece. The reason for this is that “what you pay attention to will define, for you, what reality is” (91).
While in ancient times there was the notion that the distracted person could choose their distraction, e.g., sunbathing instead of creating important work, with today’s attention economy, one’s focus is marshalled by companies that make a profit by seizing our attention for longer periods of time. It is common knowledge that our phones and apps track our every move, predicting and supplying the kind of content that will keep us most engaged. Superficially, the solution would seem to be amassing tools to minimize online distraction, such as web-blocking apps and meditating to improve focus. However, this involves denying another uncomfortable fact about human limitation, which is that complete mastery over one’s attention is impossible. This is a positive from an evolutionary standpoint, as the completely focused person would be so fixed on their important thoughts that they would neglect the signs that a bus was about to run them over, or that their baby was distressed. They would also miss beautiful sunsets and the potential to make eye-contact with attractive strangers.
While such kinds of involuntary attention are crucial to our survival, the quality and meaning of our lives depends on our ability to be able to exert influence over our voluntary attention and minimize distraction there. Burkeman argues that the consequences of online distraction are not limited to a precious hour frittered away on a site that adds no meaning to our lives. They are more insidious, given technology’s ability to predict the content that makes us most reactive: For example, take the views of a person on the other side of the political spectrum. Given that “the attention economy is designed to prioritize whatever’s most compelling – instead of whatever’s most true, or most useful – it systematically distorts the picture of the world we carry in our heads at all times” (96). Thus, by feeding us the stories that fire us up, the attention economy influences how we relate to our triggers, such as those with opposing political views, in our daily lives and interactions. Our increased exposure to inflaming content might cause us to distance ourselves from family members with different politics, thereby filing us further into the silos that make up today’s divided media and political culture. Frequent contact with platforms such as Twitter might make us feel as though we should be continually braced for conflict and as a result make our days stressful and less fulfilling. It can be tricky to emerge from this state, as our attention, the very resource that we need to notice that we have been taken over, has already been commandeered by other forces.
Although Silicon Valley, with its employment of thousands of people to keep a single person hooked on social media, is due its share of blame for the current attention predicament, we need to be honest with ourselves and examine why we give into distraction so willingly. We need to face the uncomfortable truth that we are compelled to spend our lives on things other than what matters to us most.
Burkeman argues that distraction is a way of fleeing our discomfort with the present moment as it is. While Silicon Valley’s techniques have been painted as the vanquishers of our attention, “our role on the battlefield is often that of collaborators with the enemy” (104). This is because we already have an internal part of ourselves that drags us away from meaningful tasks towards ones that promise to be easier. Paradoxically, when we are employed in a meaningful task that will add real value to our lives, we experience a feeling of boredom so unpleasant that we will do almost anything to have it go away. Part of this discomfort, Burkeman argues, is facing our limitations within the parameters of the important task. For example, we might lack the time or the talent to accomplish it as well as we wished, and how it will ultimately turn out is uncertain. While boredom is often misinterpreted as a lack of interest in the task at hand, it is actually the harsh confrontation with our lack of control over our life and work in the present moment. In contrast, distraction gives the illusion of infinity, especially on the Internet, which instantly provides access to limitless portals and provides a relief from the constraints of focus on the present.
Burkeman acknowledges that there is no secret to eradicating our urge to being distracted. However, the most effective method is to allow ourselves to feel the discomfort of boredom and “to turn more of your attention to the reality of your situation than to rain against it” (108). When we accept that we do not get to determine the outcome of events, we can often relax into our constraints.
Acceptance of Limitations continues to be an important theme in Chapters 3-6, as Burkeman considers the contributions of philosophers on the theme of finitude. He shows how Heidegger negated the idea that we were separate from time, seeing instead that the phenomenon of our lives is time itself. This is a miracle, as it would have been far more likely that we would not have been granted this opportunity at all. Seeing time this way, we can move towards being grateful for what we do have as opposed to complaining that we do not have infinite amounts. We can start seeing what we have been allotted as an opportunity to do something, as opposed to lamenting that we cannot do everything. Nevertheless, part of seeing ourselves as time is learning to accept our finitude. Burkeman shows how Heidegger separated people into those who confronted the fact that life would one day end for them and made conscious choices and those who drifted in denial of this reality.
To those raised in a Western society—which banishes the realities of old age, sickness, and death from everyday life—Heidegger’s approach might sound depressingly morbid. However, Burkeman adopts Häggland’s theory that without consciousness of finitude, experiences such as going on a family vacation would lose their richness. We would simply not appreciate our time with our loved ones in the same way if we knew they were going to be around forever. Thus, despite ourselves, we experience value and poignancy from our respect for endings, and this ought to be a model for making decisions that exclude possibilities other than the ones we are experiencing.
There is no greater sign of living in denial of life’s finitude than commitment phobia. Commitment-phobes, whether in relationships or the professional sphere, aim to keep their options open, putting off until the very last minute the decisions that will foreclose alternative possibilities: They aim to keep the illusion that life is open and endless. While they may console themselves with romantic narratives about waiting for perfection and never settling, Burkeman points out that settling is inevitable. This is because even the person who refuses to make a decision has settled for living in a state of limbo for a further protracted period. Ironically, while deciding can feel like killing off the potential of a viable alternative life, it also grants the decider a feeling of relief as they can concentrate rather than scatter their energy.
Modern Technology and the Experience of Time re-emerges as a theme in these chapters, as many blame the Internet for distracting them from their most important goals. While Burkeman acknowledges that modern apps have been designed to marshal our attention, we are willing co-conspirators to distraction as a method of once again avoiding our finitude and limitations. Whereas earlier societies might have used real-world distractions such as sunbathing to escape the frustration of difficult, important work, our preferred method is the Internet with its infinity of windows. Arguably, the giant web of alternative lives that it represents makes the feeling of transcending personal limitations even more heightened.