Procrastination

by Jane B. Burka

  4. “There’s still time.” Even though you feel guilty, ashamed, or fraudulent, you continue to hold on to the hope that there’s still time to get the project done. The ground may be crumbling away underfoot, but you try to remain optimistic, waiting for the magical reprieve that still might come.

  5. “There’s something wrong with me.” By now you are desperate. Good intentions to start early didn’t work; shame, guilt, and suffering didn’t work; faith in magic didn’t work. The worry about getting the project done is replaced by an even more frightening fear: “It’s me. . . . There’s something wrong with me!” You may feel that you’re lacking something fundamental that everyone else has—self-discipline, courage, brains, or luck. After all, they could get this done!

  6. The Final Choice: To Do or Not to Do. At this point you have to decide either to carry on to the bitter end or to abandon the sinking ship.

  Path 1: Not to Do a. “I can’t stand this!” The tension has become unbearable. Time is now so short that the project seems totally impossible to do in the minutes or hours remaining. Because you cannot stand the way you feel, the effort required to pull through seems beyond your capability and your tolerance. Thinking, “I can’t stand this anymore!” you decide the pain of trying to finish is too great. You flee.

  b. “Why bother?” At this late stage in the game, you may look ahead at all that’s left and decide it’s simply too late to pull it off this time. There’s no way in the world you can complete the project as initially planned—it can’t be done well with so little time remaining. Any efforts you make now can’t create what you had envisioned, so why bother even trying? You give up.

  Path 2: To Do—On to the Bitter End a. “I can’t wait any longer.” By now, the pressure has become so great that you can’t stand waiting another minute. The deadline is too close or your own inertia has become so painful that it’s finally worse to do nothing than it is to take action. So, like a prisoner on a death row, you resign yourself to your unavoidable fate . . . and you begin.

  b. “This isn’t so bad. Why didn’t I start sooner?” To your amazement, it’s not as bad as you had feared. Even if it is difficult, painful, or boring, at least the project is getting done—and that’s a tremendous relief. You might even find that you enjoy it! All your suffering seems so needless. “Why didn’t I just do it?”

  c. “Just get it done!” The end is almost at hand. There’s not a second to spare as you race the clock in order to finish. When you play the perilous game of brinksmanship, you no longer have the luxury of extra time to plan, refine, or improve what’s done. Your focus is no longer on how well you could have done it, but whether you can get it done at all.

  7. “I’ll never procrastinate again!” When the project is finally either abandoned or finished, the procrastinator usually collapses with relief and exhaustion. It’s been a difficult ordeal. But at long last, it’s over. The idea of going through this process even once more is so abhorrent that you resolve never to get caught in the cycle again. You vow that next time you’ll start early, be more organized, stay on schedule, control your anxiety. Your conviction is firm—until the next time.

  So the cycle of procrastination comes to an end with an emphatic promise to renounce this behavior forever. Yet in spite of their sincerity and determination, most procrastinators find themselves repeating the cycle over and over again.

  THE ROOTS OF PROCRASTINATION

  When we ask procrastinators to speculate about the factors that have led them down the path of delay, they often tell us, “We live in a competitive society! Everyone is expected to perform perfectly all the time. You just can’t keep up with all that pressure.” We are indeed bombarded by demands that could keep us occupied 24/7 in our drive to be successful. And the cultural definition of success means having lots of money, power, prestige, beauty, brilliance—having it all. In short, success is defined in terms of perfection. But the implicit message is, “If you don’t have it all, there’s something wrong with you.” As the culture pulses at such a hectic pace, touting impossibly high standards, is it any wonder that so many of us run for the cover of procrastination?

  But there must be more to becoming a procrastinator than simply being exposed to a high-pressured, perfection-conscious society. If that were all there was to it, then everyone would have trouble with procrastination. There are many people who respond to cultural pressures by exhibiting different signs of distress than the inability to produce—such as overworking, depression, psychosomatic illnesses, alcoholism, drug addiction, and phobias. And then there are people who thrive on 24/7 pressure.

  To understand how you have chosen procrastination as your primary strategy for coping, we must look to the more personal dimensions of your life. We’d like you to consider when it all got started.

  Earliest Memories

  Do you remember the first time you procrastinated? What were the circumstances? Did you put off doing something for school or was it something your parents told you to do? How old were you? High school . . . elementary school? Even earlier than that? How did the situation turn out, and how did you feel about it? Here are a few examples of some early memories procrastinators have described to us:I remember it was in the second grade, when we were assigned our first paper. We had to write two paragraphs about mountains and hand it in the next day. As soon as the teacher assigned it, I remember feeling scared—what was I going to say? All that night, I worried about it, but I didn’t do it. Finally, the next morning over breakfast, my mother wrote it for me. I copied it and handed it in. At the time, I felt relieved. But I also felt like a liar. I got an “excellent” on the paper.

  I don’t remember any incident exactly. It’s more a fuzzy sense of my mom telling me to do something, and my feeling, “No, I won’t do it!”

  I used to hurry through my homework so I could go out and play. My father checked it over before I could leave. He would always find something wrong with how I’d done it, and I’d have to do it over. Or else he’d give me something else to do before I could go out. Finally, I realized it didn’t matter how fast or how well I did my homework— he just wanted to keep me busy so that I couldn’t leave until he was ready to let me. After that, I stopped trying to finish quickly. I just daydreamed and dawdled around.

  Fifth grade. I’d always done well in school, and all the teachers liked me. That year, a group of girls in my class formed a club, and they wouldn’t let me join because I was the teacher’s pet. They made fun of me for being a goody-goody. I felt as though I was contaminated. And I remember making a conscious decision that I would never be the teacher’s pet again. So I stopped working and started procrastinating. Just like that.

  For many, the earliest symptoms of procrastination occurred in school—the first formal introduction of a young child to our larger, competitive society. The tracking systems of many schools emphasize academic ability as the major factor for distinguishing between students, so you may have identified yourself as an A, C, or F kid based on which class you were in. The social cliques that form in school are often based on these distinctions as well. The “brains,” the “jocks,” and the “partyers” may mock the children in the other groups in order to establish their own distinct places in the hierarchy. Experiences at the hands of one’s peers can have a powerful effect on a person’s academic and social confidence. Long after school years have passed, many adults still think of themselves in terms of how they were labeled as children.

  People may also continue to think of themselves in terms of the learning issues they had in school—trouble with reading or math, distractibility, difficulty processing information, or speech problems. Even though their skills may have improved over the years, they don’t feel completely safe from the possibility that someone will discover their deficits. Procrastination may have been a strategy for covering up weak areas.

  Perhaps procrastination gave you some special protection in the classroom. Your teacher could say, “I wish you’d try harder,�
� but could never say, “You just don’t have what it takes,” because the teacher never saw what you had. Unfortunately, people sometimes forget that grades do not measure intellect alone. They also measure a child’s ability to concentrate, to cooperate, and to use imagination freely.

  Whenever you started procrastinating, you know how hard it is to stop. In addition to functioning as a strategy for self-protection, procrastination is based on deeply held beliefs about life. We have heard these ideas expressed so often that we call them the Procrastinator’s Code.

  THE PROCRASTINATOR’S CODE

  I must be perfect.

  Everything I do should go easily and without effort.

  It’s safer to do nothing than to take a risk and fail.

  I should have no limitations.

  If it’s not done right, it’s not worth doing at all.

  I must avoid being challenged.

  If I succeed, someone will get hurt.

  If I do well this time, I must always do well.

  Following someone else’s rules means that I’m giving in and I’m not in control.

  I can’t afford to let go of anything or anyone.

  If I show my real self, people won’t like me.

  There is a right answer, and I’ll wait until I find it.

  These assumptions may be familiar to you, or they may be operating outside of your awareness. Either way, these are not absolute truths; they are personal perspectives that pave the way for procrastination. If you think you should be perfect, then it may seem safer to procrastinate than to work hard and risk a judgment of failure. If you are convinced that success is dangerous, then you can protect yourself and others by procrastinating and reducing your chances of doing well. If you equate cooperation with giving in, then you can put things off and do them when you are ready, thus maintaining your sense of control. Or, if you believe that people won’t like the real you, then you can use procrastination to withhold your ideas and to keep people at a safe distance.

  The beliefs that make up the Procrastinator’s Code reflect a way of thinking that keeps procrastinators from making progress. Self-critical, apprehensive and catastrophic thoughts can make it impossible to move beyond the inevitable obstacles of daily living. Realizing that you are thinking unrealistically is one step toward overcoming procrastination, but there is more to the Procrastinator’s Code than just unrealistic thoughts.

  We think that people who procrastinate in a problematic way do so because they are afraid. They fear that if they act, their actions could get them into trouble. They worry that if they show who they really are, there will be dangerous consequences to face. They are afraid, underneath all the disorganization and delay, that they are unacceptable, so much so that they may hide not only from the world but even from themselves. As painful as it is to endure self-inflicted criticism, contempt, and disgust, such feelings may be easier to bear than the feelings of vulnerability and exposure that come with taking a clear look at who they really are. Procrastination is the shield that protects them.

  2

  Fear of Failure

  The Procrastinator on Trial

  Many people who procrastinate are apprehensive about being judged by others or by the critic who dwells within. They fear they will be found lacking, their best efforts won’t be good enough, and they won’t meet the mark. This concern reflects a fear of failure, and we believe that procrastination may function as a strategy for coping with this fear.

  FEAR OF FAILING: THE SEARCH FOR PERFECTION

  David is a lawyer with a large corporate firm. He was an academic star in college and was accepted into a competitive law school. He struggled often with procrastination, sometimes staying up all night to write his briefs or study for exams. But he always managed to do well. With great pride he joined a prestigious law firm, hoping eventually to be named a partner in the firm.

  Although he thought a lot about his cases, David soon began to postpone doing the necessary background research, making appointments with his clients, and writing his briefs. He wanted his arguments to be unassailable, but he felt overwhelmed by all the possible angles, and sooner or later he’d get stuck. Although he managed to look busy, David knew he wasn’t accomplishing much, and he was plagued by the feeling that he was a fraud. As a court date drew near, he would begin to panic because he hadn’t allowed enough time to write an adequate brief, much less a brilliant one. “Being a great lawyer means everything to me,” said David. “But I seem to spend all my time worrying about being great and very little time actually working at it.”

  If David is so concerned about being an outstanding lawyer, why is he, by procrastinating, avoiding the work that is necessary to help him achieve what he wants so badly? David’s procrastination helps him avoid facing an important issue: Can he in fact be as outstanding a lawyer as his student record promised? By waiting too long to begin writing up his research, David avoids testing his potential. His work will not be a reflection of his true ability; rather it demonstrates how well he is able to produce under last-minute pressure. If his performance doesn’t live up to his (and others’) expectations, he can always say, “I could have done a lot better if I’d just had another week.” In other words, the verdict of failure so frightens David that he is willing to slow himself down, even occasionally to the point of disaster, to avoid letting his best work be judged. He is terrified that his best would be judged inadequate.

  Why would anyone go to such self-defeating lengths to prevent a judgment of failure on a task, whether it be writing a legal brief, updating a résumé, selecting gifts for friends and relatives, or buying a new car? People who have inhibited themselves because of their fear of failing tend to define “failure” in a very broad way. When they are disappointed by their performance on a task, they think not only that they have failed on that task, but also that they have failed as a person.

  Dr. Richard Beery, who was our colleague at the University of California at Berkeley Counseling Center, observed that people who fear failure may be living with a set of assumptions that turn striving for accomplishment into a frightening risk. These assumptions are: (1) what I produce is a direct reflection of how much ability I have, and (2) my level of ability determines how worthwhile I am as a person—that is, the higher my ability, the higher my sense of self-worth. Thus, (3) what I produce reflects my worth as a person. Dr. Beery formulated these assumptions into the following equation:Self-worth = Ability = Performance

  In essence, this equation translates into the following statement: “If I perform well, that means I have a lot of ability, so I like myself.” Or, “If I don’t perform well, that means I have no ability, and I feel terrible about myself.” It’s not simply how well you did at a particular time on a particular day under particular circumstances. Your performance is a direct measure of how able and worthwhile you are—forever.

  For many people, ability refers to intellectual competence, so they want everything they do to reflect how smart they are—writing a brilliant legal brief, getting the highest grade on a test, writing elegant computer code, saying something exceptionally wise or scintillating in a conversation. You could also define ability in terms of a particular skill or talent, such as how well one plays the piano, learns a language, or serves a tennis ball. Some people focus on their ability to be attractive, entertaining, up on the latest trends, or to have the newest gadgets. However ability may be defined, a problem occurs when it is the sole determinant of one’s self-worth. The performance becomes the only measure of the person; nothing else is taken into account. An outstanding performance means an outstanding person; a mediocre performance means a mediocre person. Period.

  For David, writing a legal brief for a case is the performance that measures not only his ability to be a good lawyer but also his value as a human being. If he works hard to prepare the brief and it isn’t brilliant, he will be devastated—it means he is a terrible person who can’t do anything. “I don’t think I could stand it if I went all ou
t and the brief still wasn’t good enough,” David confessed.

  As Dr. Beery pointed out, procrastination breaks the equation between Ability and Performance:

  Performance can no longer be equated with ability because complete effort has not been made. This means that regardless of how the performance eventually turns out, the connection between Self-worth and Ability can still be preserved. For example, if David is disappointed or criticized for his brief, he can reassure himself with the thought, “Well, I could have done better if I’d started sooner and given myself more time to do it.” Or, if he manages to do well in spite of procrastinating, he can feel even more pleased with himself, thinking, “Look how I pulled this one out of the fire. Just imagine how well I could do if I really worked at it!”