Most of the time I feel I ought to be trying harder, and sometimes this feeling is correct. There are days when I need to put down the distractions and just get on with it, whatever “it” happens to be.
Occasionally, I have the opposite problem: I need to scale back my efforts, or make them more focused. It’s hard to recognize that trying too hard can be troublesome, but the fact is that applying the wrong amount of effort to a problem (be it too little or too much) will always produce inferior results. It’s hard to mow a lawn with a pair of scissors, but it’s equally ineffective to tidy your bedroom with a bulldozer.
Intellectually, I understand this, but it still feels wrong to me. Trying harder doesn’t always improve things? The horror! I suppose I’ve internalized a broad societal belief that “more effort = more betterer”.
However, I’ve found that using what I know about physical sciences as an analogy for the rest of my life can help to resolve my confusion. In particular, the problem of trying too hard becomes clearer if I picture an imaginary pool noodle in a highly contrived situation. Allow me to demonstrate, using a pool noodle named Ned.
Imagine that while hanging out with Ned at the pool, wearing my stylish swimming shorts, I see a friend looking sad.
I’d love to cheer up my friend, but it’s hard to get their attention across this extremely large and well-drawn pool. Luckily, I could signal them using Ned!
If I don’t try very hard, then Ned will follow my movements exactly as I slowly wave him back and forth:
This isn’t very attention grabbing. My lack of effort leads to limited results, just as we might expect.
But if I try just a little harder, Ned waves back and forth wildly:
This is perfect! I’m getting huge results without putting in much more effort.
Swinging anything back and forth at the right frequency is easy — so easy that it’s actually difficult to do it too slowly or too fast. You’ll feel resistance if you try to swing a pendulum at the ‘wrong’ pace: it ‘wants’ to go at its own frequency. I’m reminded of this whenever I work so late into the night that my productivity for the next day is ruined.
The physical analogy is that when we exceed that perfect frequency — whether we’re swinging pendulums or waving noodles — results get worse. Fast.
Back at the imaginary pool, let’s imagine my friend is about to be abducted by a UFO — a sadly common occurrence at fictional hangouts such as these. Desperate to warn them, I shake Ned back and forth so fast that he barely moves at all:
Once I’ve surpassed the optimal frequency of waving, the harder I try, the less Ned moves. There’s no way we’ll catch my friend’s attention like this. My frantic effort is no longer translating into increased or improved results.
Let’s put what we’ve learned into a graph, and see how all this applies to the problem of trying too hard in general.
There are three zones. At first, small effort leads to small results. As we increase effort, we build toward the peak, where the perfect amount of effort achieves maximal results. Beyond that, there’s a steep drop-off: additional effort goes completely wasted and can actually lead to worse results than barely trying at all.
This silly pool noodle analogy illustrates why trying too hard can be less productive than hardly trying at all. Even though there is more effort overall, it’s opposing itself. Some of the effort pulls one way; some pulls the other; and the net result is zero movement and maximum exhaustion.
How to recognize the Wasted Effort Zone
So, how do we know when our effort is going to waste? For me, the natural impulse is always to do more.
Here are some tell-tale signs that you may be trying too hard:
- Unproductively jumping from one project to another
- A lack of progress, where you’re also not learning anything that you can use in the future
- Fantasizing about other projects as soon as you pick up any particular one
- Feeling stuck, and also as if you urgently need to get unstuck
- Cycles of starting, overthinking, deleting, restarting
- Efforts seeming disproportionate to the results they produce
- Intense feelings; a belief that the stakes are high
If you recognize these signs, remember your friend Ned the Noodle and resist the temptation to keep blaming yourself for not trying enough. Any further attempts to accelerate might only make it worse.
Our ‘hustle’ culture forgets that steady speed beats acceleration into a wall. We lose productivity from overwork. More important, it comes at the expense of other things in our lives—unchecked exertion leaves us exhausted, frustrated, and with worse results than if we’d just done a little at a time.
I find it hard to believe, but sometimes the answer is simply to slow down. Ideally, that slowdown brings us closer to that optimal state where maximal results are possible.
When I’m stuck in a loop of wasted effort, my brain interprets any attempt to escape as laziness. Next time I’m tempted to accelerate forward, all noodles blazing, I’m going to give myself a reason to pause. It’s important to keep trying…just not too hard.
Your Turn
Can you think of a time you’ve tried too hard? Is it possible to recognize when you’re putting in just the right amount of effort? Share your tips and stories with the community in the comments.
Katie says
Neil, I will forever NEVER forget Ned the pool noodle! And I REALLY wish I would’ve read something like this immediately pre-pandemic as I spent a really big part of it feeling horrible and ashamed for my motivation plummet (I had come off an intense 2019 of hustle to build my ‘resistance rebels’ business). I think the hard part for many of us is trying to determine what “right effort” is now (when “right effort” *seemed* like so much more in years past). I’m sure Ned would agree that we need to cut ourselves a break as we start to rev our engines again this year and understand that optimal performance may look a lot different than it used to 🙂 Thank you for another great post!
Neil Hughes says
Haha, I’m happy Ned is going to stay with you! I think all of us have struggled with this feeling at times during the pandemic. It’s not easy to be sure what the right effort is at the best of times, and when we’re living through something so unusual I think we’re inevitably going to fail to figure it out immediately. Hope you’re finding a good balance now as things change again 🙂
Harald says
Neil, your analogy is so very cute and precise! Every workplace should have a big poster which reads: Thou shalt not overnoodle it.
😀
Fable says
T-shirt please! (“Thou shalt not overnoodle it.”)
As someone who has had to cut lawns with scissors (ok, shears, but still) and would be very tempted to clean up certain rooms with a bulldozer, I greatly appreciate this noodlesense. Thank you!
Neil Hughes says
Hahah, I love the word “noodlesense”, it feels like the right word for my thoughts even if I’m not fully sure what it means ?
Neil Hughes says
I LOVE this! If I had any graphic design skills I’d be tempted to try and make this 😀
Harald says
I guess, all you need are your three pictures of Ned being waved – the ones you have already made for this article. Line them up horizontally. Put the caption “To make Ned nod…” above them and put the new commandment right below them: “… thou shalt not overnoodle it!”
😀
Harald says
The more I think about it, the more I love the symbolic message of your analogy: If you put in just the right amount of effort, Ned will (kind of) nod vigorously. And by nodding, Ned will seem to agree to this specific amount of effort that you are currently investing. Therefore, it is not just about what you can achieve with Ned. It’s also about what Ned will signal back: “Not sure”, “I agree” or “I am unmoved by your desperate attempt”.
Neil, I really love this! 🙂
Rhonda Selene Kastner says
as an electronic technician in the previous century, sometimes the brain gets stuck; a brain freeze. This is the time to get up away from the work bench, take a break for a while, then come back and try again. Many times the solution of what you are trying to figure out comes to you.
Harald says
This is the classic stage model of the creative process as presented by Graham Wallas in 1926. Whenever more of the preparation phase doesn’t get you anywhere, stop working on the current matter, let it go and, by this, move it on to the next phase in the creative process – which is incubation. And this is (literally) what hens do while sitting on their eggs. They don’t work on the construction of the chick inside. Instead they provide the warmth for it to grow.
And, basically, that is creativity: an ongoing alternation between constructing in the conscious mind and providing for something to grow in the unconscious mind – fully taking control before, again, letting it go. Rinse. Repeat until heureka.
Neil Hughes says
Ooh the parallel with hens and eggs had never occurred to me. I tend to think of it more as letting a process run in the background of my mind – I guess that’s the programmer in me seeing the brain as a computer. I like the more natural metaphor a lot 🙂
Harald says
Quite some time in my career, I have been a programmer, too. And I also thought about the unconscious part of the creative process as a kind of worker thread in the background. But, as it turns out, brains are quite different from computers. There is no separation of processing unit and memory. In the brain, it’s all in the same place – all over the place -, in each and every neuron.
Neil Hughes says
Definitely! A walk or a change of scene is the most helpful, though it’s amazing how often I get stuck and forget this. Thanks for the reminder 🙂
Jane says
This is great! As someone who has lived with ME/CFS for 30 years (and managed it poorly), it’s only taken that long to come to the same conclusion as you did with Ned the Noodle! LOL. I recognize the wasted effort zone all too well, which usually corresponds with a physical crash and sometimes requiring days of rest. My next mission is to use pacing to find the optimal zone. Thanks for sharing!
Neil Hughes says
Ah I’m pleased it resonates with you Jane. I think we’re all gradually learning the same lessons – it definitely has taken me a long time to recognise this one… and I STILL get it wrong more often than not. Hope you find a good balance with where you’re at now 🙂
Jaana says
Exactly what I needed today. During pandemic, I’ve pushed myself harder and harder, doing fun projects and cool things to the point where nothing is fun any more and anxiety is tightening its grip. Now I will slow down.
Neil Hughes says
Glad to hear it found you at the right time Jaana! Hope you strike a good balance of productivity and fun and energy conservation 🙂
LizBM says
As an artist, I know instinctively the feeling of “peak optimal performance.” It’s the feeling that comes when I’m working on a drawing or costume and I get this gut instinct that says, “Stop… maybe it’s time to stop…” And I step back and take a look. Maybe I’ll still tweak or adjust something, but I’ve learned to trust that voice. Overworking art leads to disaster! (Maybe not *disaster*, just art that I’m not happy with that never sees the light of day!)
However, when I’m stressed or overwhelmed, I’ve noticed my tendency to keep working no matter what. To override the wise “Stop” voice. This showed up last week when I had a meltdown over a project that has been years in the works. An issue came up and I had an intense emotional reaction to it, even though now I can see it was a pretty simple reaction. And the gut feeling was, “I don’t know what to do. I just don’t know what to do!”
I needed a few reminders that *that* feeling means, it is time to REALLY STOP. Take a break, set the project aside for a couple of days, and wait for clarity. After a couple of days of rest, it was easier for me to reset some boundaries and deadlines and address the issue with less intensity.
Thanks so much for this article! I LOVE Ned.
Neil Hughes says
Ahh thanks Liz, I’m really happy you like Ned so much ? I fully agree with your take, too… I’ve learned to trust that voice, except that it’s REALLY hard to actually listen when I’m in a overwhelmed state – I just keep pouring in more and more effort, which only makes things worse. I think all I can do is keep relearning and internalising the lesson and gradually become better at acting on the learned instinct over time 🙂 thanks so much for sharing!
Vanessa says
Thank you for sharing Ned the Pool Noodle with us. I’ve wanted to write so often about how I hate the hustle message that is put out by so many, but I’ve rarely managed to articulate it further than some kind of cross between a scream and fingernails down a blackboard, so it makes me wildly happy when I see people writing about it.
Neil Hughes says
I often feel like many of my articles start out from a desire to vocalise an internalised scream ? And I agree, the culture around work and productivity is incredibly unhealthy. I’m happy to hear Ned was able to partially voice some of your frustration with it!
Kimberly says
I’m going to show my husband this article. He works for himself and regularly hits a good stride, so he achieves his daily goals quite easily within a few hours or less most days, but because I have a 9-5 job, he often feels like he’s being lazy by not continuing to work that same amount of time, despite being done and despite all the evidence that 9-5 isn’t a productive way to work. I constantly have to tell him how many articles like this I read during frequent breaks, because I too get my work done within a few hours each day.
As a physics buff himself, hopefully your explanation will reach him and he can feel confident in the amount of work and the quality of output he is achieving.
Neil Hughes says
That’s very cool, Kimberly, I hope the physics analogy is helpful to him! I definitely empathise with both you – sometimes I feel like I’m working too hard, sometimes there’s a guilt over not working hard enough. Finding that easy place where I’m getting plenty done but without exhausting myself is a tough balance. Let us know how your husband gets on with Ned 😀
Jo@JoSimplyWill says
I attended a yoga class once in which the instructor talked about finding a balance between effort and ease. It’s applicable to yoga, and to life!
Neil Hughes says
Absolutely agree Jo! Thank you 🙂
Felicia says
“It’s hard to mow a lawn with a pair of scissors, but it’s equally ineffective to tidy your bedroom with a bulldozer.” and Ned the pool noodle.
They are simple, humorous analogy, yet hit the bull’s eye.
Thanks for sharing this, Neil. ^^
Your post helps me understand and acknowledge people’s needs to slow down, including myself.
Neil Hughes says
Thank you Felicia! I’m happy you found Ned’s story fun and useful 😀 Hope you find a good balance today 🙂
Georgina McHugh says
Thanks to anxiety, I literally live in the wasted effort zone. 🙁 Any tips on how to slow down for someone whose not very good at it.
Kim says
Great article, Neil.
I’m reminded of the ideas in Alex Pang’s book “Rest: why we get more done when we work less.”
I’ve been able to put this to the test recently as I’ve begun working toward a new degree. As you describe, more effort led to worse results. Giving myself time to play allows me to absorb dense material more quickly and I’ve been happier with my progress.
I know I’m in the “optimal performance” zone when, at the end of the day, I can put my feet up, feeling productive while also having plenty of time and energy left over to explore my interests. It’s like feeling a little sore the day after a good workout while being loose enough to do all your normal activities.
Sean Ibanez says
As an art.teacher I have to help students discover that zone of diminishing return. Some kids are good with the bit of push. Others need a moment to breathe. It’s difficult for them, it’s difficult helping them, and it’s all compounded by the grossly limiting schedule of the school day. It’s been a heck of a learning curve figuring out what a healthy pace of class should look like, let alone how to plan accordingly.
Gabi says
Now I have the perfect image for when I go into overwork mode. Thank you Neil, as ever your writing is on the mark.