I think you can actually picture it, time confetti.
The phrase is not mine, but coined by Brigid Shulte through her reporting on the phenomenon that, though most of us contemporary folk actually do have more leisure time than folks before us, many of us yearn for “simpler” times. Why is this? Why do we feel like we don’t have time to do the things we want to do?
Because our time has been ripped up into a million pieces, scattered across our day.
Wait, real quick, let me check —
Hang on, this will only take a sec —
Oh! I forgot to — *opens app*
In a time diary, it may look like this:
And in an everyday context, it may materialize like this:
By now, you’ve likely heard that there’s no such thing as multi-tasking, but rather only quick task switching. And if you haven’t heard the stats around how constant task switching erodes quality focus, you’ve likely at least felt the consequences of this oscillation throughout your day.
Practices like monotasking or the pomodoro technique can help garner focus for completing specific tasks without being pulled into a myriad of directions. Researchers suggest slow breathing and anxiety appraisal to feel less stressed by the demands upon our time. Ok… But can we not ignore that cultural norms and algorithms and social structures also create an uphill battle for individuals trying to “manage their time”?
Time management, or stress management, or anxiety management practices fall on the shoulders of the individual, who must combat a slew of cultural noise. To actually show up and complete one task at a time is quite radical in the face of mounting social expectations and pressures. Much of the messaging found in consumer culture pushes us towards task completion, by whatever method. Perhaps it is selling us more energy, convenience, or encouraging us to be more efficient.
Today we’re going to talk about the 11th theme of the “time is money” narrative embedded in consumer culture: multitasking.
Welcome back to our series, twenty shades of “time is money” — we’re breaking down findings from research on social acceleration, marketing, and consumer culture.
This research helped me better understand my own relationship to time and consumption (and specifically, the felt need to constantly be busy and hurry through life and buy things as an antidote to this frenzy). Thank you for reading, and I hope there is a nugget of inspiration for you here too.
While many advertisements in the historical sample I analyzed had “multitasking” as a secondary or tertiary theme, one in particular led with the overt message that “Today's pace of life requires multitasking; you must blend together one or more activities (such as work and play, walking and talking, etc.) to keep up with everyday demands."
Here, the Car-Phone appeals to the person who realizes they can’t accomplish everything they need to or want to if they engage in only one activity at a time: in this case, either driving or talking on the phone. Multitasking is required to accomplish to stay ahead of the competition nipping at their heels. The signifiers work to blend the boundaries between home and office while highlighting the dichotomy between success and failure; with the key for success being multitasking.
I first read about time confetti during the earlier days of Covid. I was learning how to balance working and caretaking and the general business of living. It was while I was finishing up my PhD (and working from home - writing my dissertation and teaching virtually) but before I began a hybrid-work corporate job. Reading through Shulte’s analysis on the topic, I nodded my head. But I wouldn’t really experience time confetti until I was listening in on conference calls while folding laundry or presenting research to colleagues while my toddler (home from daycare due to covid closures) played on the floor. In between slides I’d scoot him a new toy with my foot to “buy” myself another minute of time.
So, I don’t know about you, but I can picture time confetti in my life. I can also picture myself picking up pieces of time, taping them together like construction paper. The finished piece is jagged and imperfect, many shreds flimsily held together, but held together nonetheless. And by visualizing myself picking up the pieces of time, one by one, I am closer to challenging the myth that my life is, always and only, an input to some economic output.
just coming back to the post to express gratitude for it! i have reflected often in the days since reading, and have been noticing the cultural messages of multi-tasking in addition to my own fractured "task processing" (for lack of better words). thank you for the work you're doing here!
I came to this post via Nora McInerny's newsletter (Sunday Dreads) and I really appreciate it! The first graphic on the bits of time throughout an hour (Figure 1-1, Figure 1-2) somehow exactly describes my remote job, which is roughly a 9-to-5. No wonder I feel so exhausted by the end of those 8 (or 9, or 10) hours! Thank you for this thought provoking piece.