Productivity is overrated (Pass the Prosecco)

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Fitness & Health

Published on Wednesday, 29 October 2025 15:10

Last Updated on 29 October 2025

Lady Rantingham

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Ah, laziness. That deliciously taboo word that sends shivers down the spine of every productivity guru and LinkedIn warrior. We’ve been told for decades that idleness is the enemy of success — that to sit still is to fall behind. Yet, I propose something rather scandalous: perhaps laziness isn’t the disease of our age, but the antidote.

We live in a society that worships exhaustion. We glorify “hustle” as if perpetual fatigue were a badge of honour and burnout a rite of passage. To be busy is to be valuable; to rest is to be suspicious. We no longer ask “How are you?” but “What are you working on?” The implication being — if you’re not grinding, you’re failing.

But what if the so-called “lazy” ones are actually onto something? What if slowing down, opting out, and refusing to chase endless busyness is a quiet act of rebellion — even of intelligence?
Let’s consider the art of strategic laziness. The person who refuses to attend every pointless meeting, or who takes a long, unapologetic lunch away from their desk — are they lazy, or are they safeguarding their sanity? The one who automates dull tasks to make time for thinking or dreaming — lazy, or efficient? The woman who says “no” to yet another request that doesn’t serve her goals — selfish, or wise?

Laziness, when looked at with fresh eyes, might be energy intelligence. It’s knowing where your effort is best spent — and refusing to scatter it like confetti on the altar of busyness. Nature itself is lazy in the most elegant way: rivers find the path of least resistance; trees drop their leaves when energy conservation matters most. Why shouldn’t we take a cue from that?
And let’s not forget — many of history’s great thinkers were world-class loafers. Newton, famously idle, daydreamed under an apple tree. Archimedes found inspiration while bathing. Even Einstein took long walks simply to “think.” The world owes quite a lot to people who knew how to be still.

Of course, true laziness — the kind born of apathy or entitlement — can be corrosive. But that’s not what most of us suffer from. We suffer from the guilt of not doing enough, when in fact we’re already stretched thin. The modern plague isn’t laziness — it’s relentless striving.

So here’s a thought that might make productivity preachers choke on their turmeric lattes: what if a little laziness is the very thing keeping us human? What if it’s the pause that makes the music of life bearable — and beautiful?

Next time someone calls you lazy, smile sweetly and say, “No, darling — I’m conserving my brilliance.”
Sometimes, doing less isn’t laziness. It’s evolution.