The Paradox of Getting Things Done: When “Doing Nothing” Gets You Everywhere

2/19/2024

So let’s talk productivity hacks, shall we? In a tech industry crammed full of bustling Slack channels, perpetually ticking JIRA boards, and endless email threads, the quest to “get more done” has become its own cottage industry. I’ve tried—quite literally—everything: time-blocking regimens with color-coded calendars, Pomodoro Technique sprints that sound like cute cooking instructions, and the oh-so-stately Eisenhower Matrix, which insists that we sort tasks into “urgent vs. important” as though the cosmos hinges on our daily post-it notes. And yet, after all of that, the single most effective method I’ve discovered is something I’ve nicknamed “forced boredom.”

It might sound ridiculous: simply close every app, kill notifications, stare at my IDE, and do nothing. No Slack open, no Twitter feed lurking in a background tab, no music (except maybe some bland white noise). I just… sit there, bored out of my mind—until not working on that difficult project is actually more excruciating than tackling it. I know. It sounds like punishment. But perhaps that’s the point.

The Graveyard of Productivity Hacks

I’d like to present a brief overview of the once-popular strategies that currently reside in my personal “discarded hacks” graveyard:

Time Blocking
The method: You meticulously schedule each minute of your day, partitioning your calendar into neat little blocks. The promise: You’ll know exactly what you’re doing and when, and you’ll become a paragon of efficiency.
The reality: My day rarely cooperates. The second a surprise meeting or urgent bug arises, the entire color-coded tapestry collapses. And then I’d feel guilty for “failing” at my own schedule¹.
Pomodoro Technique
The method: Work in 25-minute sprints, then take a 5-minute break. Rinse and repeat.
The reality: Those 25-minute sessions became a cruelly short window for deep work. By the time I’d load the relevant context in my mind, the timer would ring. Suddenly, I’m forced to break my concentration just as I’m hitting flow.
Eisenhower Matrix
The method: Sort all tasks into four quadrants: urgent/important, urgent/not important, not urgent/important, not urgent/not important. Then prioritize accordingly.
The reality: I made the quadrants, posted them on my wall, and then promptly ignored them when a “priority 1 bug” landed in my inbox. Also, half my tasks were some weird blend of “kinda urgent, slightly important, oh but also ephemeral.”

Did these hacks teach me anything? Absolutely. They taught me that structure alone, no matter how elegantly designed, can’t outrun my tendency to get distracted. Because the problem isn’t necessarily that I can’t plan—I’m actually quite good at planning. My Achilles’ heel is resisting the siren call of everything else vying for my attention.

Introducing “Forced Boredom”

Picture this: You close Slack, you turn your phone face-down², you exit out of every browser tab that isn’t strictly necessary, and you basically stare at your code editor (or blank doc, or blueprint, or whatever your main work environment is). At first, it’s mildly uncomfortable, like weaning yourself off a sugar habit. You realize how addicted your brain is to the dopamine hits of new notifications, pings, and random YouTube suggestions.

Then, boredom starts creeping in. You fidget. Your mind drifts. But eventually you reach a weird tipping point where you can’t stand the fact that you’re doing absolutely nothing. Suddenly, the “hard thing” you’ve been procrastinating—writing that complex function, debugging that elusive memory leak, drafting that overdue proposal—starts looking like a welcome release. Because doing it is less unpleasant than continuing to do nothing.³

The Science (Sort Of)

Humans are basically novelty-seeking machines. We crave new stimuli, new bits of info. When we deprive ourselves of all stimuli, the next available “interesting” thing becomes that task we were avoiding. It’s like tricking your brain into thinking, “Well, might as well do this since nothing else is happening.” It’s kind of a productivity hack by default—or by sheer attrition.

How It Works in Practice

Isolation Chamber
I’m not talking about a literal tank filled with salt water—though that might be fun. I mean a mental isolation chamber. Shut off messaging apps, close your email, exit social media tabs. I even put my phone on “airplane mode” sometimes, just to remove the itch to check it.
No Timers, No Pressure
Unlike Pomodoro, you don’t say, “I must focus for 25 minutes.” That’s just another form of mental overhead. Instead, give yourself a window—maybe an hour or two—where you “must stay in the zone” of forced boredom. If you truly need a break, you can stand and stretch, but no phone, no random blog surfing.
The Buildup of Tedium
Sit there. Let your mind wander. If you start to mentally plan your shopping list⁴, fine. But you’ll notice, eventually, your thoughts circle back to the work at hand. Because you have to do something, and “doing nothing” is driving you a bit bonkers.
Breakthrough
That’s when you dive into the code or the design or the writing. Suddenly, it feels like a relief, not a chore. You may find your concentration is deeper because you’ve eliminated the usual micro-distractions.

The Inevitable Weak Spots

Let’s be honest: “forced boredom” isn’t some magic panacea. It demands a certain environment (perhaps you can’t do this if your boss expects you on Slack at all times). It also hinges on the willpower to not reflexively open a new tab the moment you get an idle second. And sure, sometimes you’ll crack—somebody pings you for an urgent question, or you recall you need to pay a bill right now. Distractions happen⁵.

But in my experience, no other productivity hack so effectively harnesses the weird psychology of wanting anything other than the status quo. It’s like a reverse incentive: we push ourselves to do the “extremely hard thing” because staying in that vacuum of inactivity is worse.

Why It Trumps Other Hacks (For Me)

After dabbling in a smorgasbord of productivity systems, I’ve realized I don’t need more structure. I need fewer distractions. I don’t need bells and timers reminding me when to take a break; I need to confront the blinking cursor with nothing else to hold my attention hostage. Because that’s where the deep work happens—when your mind is given no other outlet but to solve the problem at hand.

Time-blocking, Pomodoro, the Eisenhower Matrix—they all have kernels of wisdom, but they also introduce layers of complexity that can be their own form of distraction. Suddenly, you’re fussing with color schemes for your calendar or re-arranging tasks into quadrants instead of, you know, just coding. Forced boredom cuts out the middleman and says, “Look, just remove everything else from the equation until you cave and do the work.”

Parting Thoughts

So if you find yourself drowning in Slack notifications and calendar pings, maybe give “forced boredom” a whirl. Yes, it’ll feel uncomfortable at first. Yes, you might catch yourself reaching for your phone out of sheer habit. But stick with it, let that vacuum grow, and see what happens. My guess is, you’ll eventually start coding or writing or designing—anything to escape the agony of doing absolutely nothing. Which, ironically, is the best form of motivation I’ve found yet.

¹ Nothing like self-imposed guilt to derail a perfectly good morning.
² Or better yet put your phone out of arms reach or in another room. A technique that becomes harder to do the more people who are relying on you.
³ Humans are funny creatures that way. We thrive on novelty, even if the novelty is solving a maddening bug.
⁴ You'd be amazed at the precise detail with which I can recall every square inch of my home office, a lot of staring has taken place in that room.
⁵ I like to keep a notepad nearby for “emergency to-do thoughts.” Jot it down, get it off your mind, and return to boredom.

© Alexander Cannon – All disclaimers disclaimable, unless I find a new productivity hack to try, when you will find my post on how the Focus Cascade Method™ changed my life.

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