Efficiency is celebrated in business and in life.
We’re taught at work to streamline, optimise, and cut out anything that doesn’t contribute directly to the bottom line.
For a short period of time at my previous workplace, we had to jot down every task we completed, the number of words we had written, and the time it took for us to complete the task.
The goal was to pinpoint inefficiencies and eliminate them, turning us into perfectly optimised cogs in a larger machine.
Fortunately, it didn’t last long because my manager fought back hard on this level of micro-management from the executives.
Beyond the risk of collapse, there’s another subtle but insidious consequence of this relentless pursuit of efficiency: When everyone is operating at their 100% capacity, there’s no room for innovation, no spare 10% for exploring.
There’s no time to experiment with a new approach, brainstorm creative solutions, or simply think beyond the immediate task.
It leaves no space for curiosity, learning, or the serendipitous discoveries that often lead to breakthroughs.
You become excellent at doing what you already do, but you lose the ability to discover what you could be doing, or how to do it better.
I used to be a big fan of efficiency as well.
When I first got into my freelance content creation business, I ran a tight ship. Lean, efficient, a one-man show, with one to two freelancers who worked on demand.
It worked well.
But it also meant that if I got sick, burnt out, or simply decided to take a week off to stare at the clouds, the entire operation would grind to a halt.
One point of failure.
It’s easy to fall into the trap of making things efficient – I like to get the most bang for my buck because who doesn’t like a good deal, amirite?
This mindset of maximum output with minimal input can be powerful, but it often comes at a hidden cost: fragility.
Pure efficiency, taken to its extreme, often leaves no room for error, no buffer for the unexpected. When every cog in the machine is essential, and there are no backups, a single broken part can bring the whole system crashing down.
One point of failure.
In fact, history is littered with examples of companies built on single points of failure, only to crumble when that point gives way.
Lessons from the past
Think about the tech giants: Samsung vs Nokia.
Nokia, for a long time, was the name in mobile phones. They had a singular focus on hardware, a proprietary operating system, and a manufacturing process that, while efficient, was largely self-contained.
When the smartphone revolution hit, led by Apple and then Android, Nokia was slow to adapt. Their reliance on their existing model, their single point of strength, became their single point of failure. They couldn’t pivot fast enough because their entire ecosystem was built around one way of doing things.
Samsung, on the other hand, diversified. While they also made hardware, they embraced Android, a platform developed by another company. They weren’t afraid to experiment with different phone models, screen technologies, and even expand into other electronics like TVs and home appliances. This willingness to embrace multiple approaches allowed them to weather the seismic shifts in the tech industry and emerge as a leader.
One thrived, the other vanished.
Build redundancy into your life
The lesson is clear: diversify.
I learnt that it’s okay to have redundancy in your life. They can come in the form of backup plans, buffer deadlines, diverse skill sets, and robust support networks.
For my freelance business, it meant having an extra income stream through a part-time job, which I enjoyed.
It also meant me actively pitching to more clients instead of lazily relying on retainer contracts because I never know when my current clients might have a budget freeze or cut.
Understand the inherent unpredictability of the world and build resilience into the system. Think about the redundancies you can build:
- Financial redundancy: Create your emergency fund and diversify your investments across different asset classes.
- Skill redundancy: In a rapidly changing world, relying on just one highly specialised skill can be risky. Developing complementary skills, or even entirely new ones, makes you more adaptable and marketable.
- Relationship redundancy: While deep relationships are invaluable, relying on just one person for all your emotional or practical support can create a fragile system. Cultivating a diverse network of friends, family, and professional contacts provides different perspectives, help, advice, and connections.
- Health redundancy: This might sound odd, but it means building robust habits. It’s not just one healthy meal, but consistent nutrition. Not just one workout, but regular movement. Not just one good night’s sleep, but a consistent sleep routine.
In the long run, it’s not the lone wolf that survives, but the ecosystem.
And that, I’m learning, is a lesson worth investing in for the true power of peace of mind.