The Selfishness of Taking On Too Much and Precisely What To Do About It
Taking on too much doesn't make you a hero. It makes you a liability. And the most dangerous version of this is when you don't even know you're being a - sorry - pain in the ass.
You show up late. Cancel last minute. Ask the question that was answered in the email you didn't bother to read. Say yes to things you can't actually do, then wait until the last possible moment to back out.
You take on too much, and transfer the chaos to others.
Here's what it actually is: a character flaw that prioritizes your ambitions over respect for those around you.
Over time, the splash effect degrades relationships. What you call devotion, the people around you call a tax. You may not notice. Because you're overloaded.
If you think those around you "understand" you and how you operate - and that you're just really committed? Unlikely. More likely, they've stopped telling you. Or they've started routing around you. And again, you might be too overloaded to have noticed.
To understand the bigger picture, consider the four roadblocks to execution: not getting started, not staying on track, not stopping what isn't working, and taking on too much.
We're talking about roadblock 4. Roadblock 4 is not saying "no" to enough things, or not saying no to the right things.
It's the sneakiest of the four. The other three break your output. This one breaks your relationships.
What can you do?
1) Know the three modes of opportunity and commitment evaluation, and 2) create an independent mechanic that decides for you which mode to operate in.
Let me explain.
Most people operate in one mode when it comes to what they take on: addition. Something crosses the desk, it's interesting or the pressure is on, and they take it. They add. Unless disaster hits. And even then, they add while part of them knows they just made it worse.
This is invisibly funded by a distorted view of limits. You know others have limits that are to be respected. You have an elastic view of yours. This can cover the spectrum from martyr ("I can't afford to say no") to superhero-FOMO ("I don't need to say no").
Both deny reality. You have limits. And there's only one way to know precisely where your limit is: to blow past it. And then you're left with the collateral damage.
There's a better way to operate. Be tri-modal, and context sensitive.
Addition is the first mode. We talked about its downsides. But, it's a legitimate mode. The problem is being there always and only, or out of context.
Substitution is the next mode, where the conscious person goes when they're honest about their capacity. They're within 20% of max. So they don't take something on without releasing something of equivalent time and energy cost. New in, equivalent out. Their books balance inside a 20% margin of safety.
Subtraction is where the sophisticated person goes when they read the early warning signs of "at or past max". They don't wait to get punched in the face by an out-of-control calendar. They can tell when it's time to eliminate. They don't need a disaster to trigger it.
Most people can see those three modes and recognize them.
Some can even name which one they're in.
But that's not enough. You also need to outsource the decision to an objective mechanic rather than a subjective, internal process.
Why? You cannot make this decision subjectively. You certainly can't make it under pressure. Under pressure, everyone defaults to addition.
So don't make the decision. Build a mechanic that makes it for you.
The mechanic is an external indicator. One you pick in advance, when you're calm. It runs on its own clock.
It tells you which mode to be in without you having to think about it.
The right indicator is what ecologists call an indicator species. The canary in the coal mine. A single variable that detects a problem early, before the system goes into crisis.
Missed date nights might be yours. Maybe one missed date night means the system is overloaded, and you move into subtraction.
Workout compliance. 100% means you're in addition. One missed session means substitution. Two means subtraction.
Vacation integrity. If your plans are last minute and wedged between work commitments, you're in subtraction. If they're planned and protected but you work when you said you wouldn't, you're in substitution. If every vacation looks like a slightly slower version of regular life, you probably have room to add.
HRV. Sleep quality. Boredom frequency. The indicator is yours to pick. What matters is that you pick one that runs ahead of the wreckage and removes the decision from your hands.
Because under pressure, you are prone to revert to type.
And that's the problem.
The mechanic isn't a calendar trick. It's a commitment to the people around you.
If your indicator says subtraction and you add anyway, you've made a choice. Own it, and the subsequent fallout. You've decided your ambitions outrank the people who will inherit the chaos.
Most overloaded people would never describe it that way.
That's the obliviousness problem.
— C
Finding your pattern and its downstream effects is hard to do alone. I work with groups of 7–12 CEOs, Founders and Owners who do it together. See my contact info if you're interested.