You can spend thirty minutes adjusting the font on an internal memo that three people will skim, then find you have nothing left for the conversation that actually needs your attention.
Decide what makes the work useful, then give yourself permission to finish. That's the idea behind “good enough.” It leaves room to care about your work without treating every task like a holy quest.
Disarming "excellence"
"Always give 110%." "'Work-life balance' is a load of nonsense. Elite performance requires an intense commitment." "996 is a joke. It doesn't even come close to what it actually takes."
We've all heard the first one, and certainly some flavor of the last two. They are ..something. Truly something. There's a world of difference between saying "if you're down for it, great!" and the insinuation that only folks that put in everything, all the time are going to achieve anything of value or consequence.
A company can ask a lot of you. It should be able to explain why, for how long, and what happens when the sprint is over. If the answer is that everything will be urgent forever, that deserves scrutiny—not another motivational poster.
I have no objection to caring deeply about your work. I object to treating the amount of your life it consumes as proof that it's good. An internal memo can be useful without becoming your evening plans.
How to do good work, reasonably
Demanding permanent self-sacrifice doesn't become reasonable because somebody calls it excellence.
To be clear, we can absolutely take pride in our work and do a good job. It is okay to enjoy your work. It's certainly preferable to hating it. But instead of a horrid grind as the only way to earn a decent living, I offer you an alternative: Strategic Mediocrity. It sounds bad, I know—but the idea is once again not about ignoring commitments or "slacking off". It's about resource management. It's the realization that you have a finite amount of oomph in you each day, and if you spend it all perfecting the font on a weekly status report that three people will skim, you've got nothing left for the stuff that is of actual consequence.
Procrastination + Perfectionism = ..Procastonism?
Sometimes perfectionism gives procrastination a very respectable outfit. If we make it "perfect," nobody can criticize us, right?
But perfection is a moving target, and chasing it is what makes work feel like an endless treadmill. When everything is a priority, nothing is a priority. When everything has to be "excellent," you end up exhausted, cynical, and—ironically—less effective at your job.
Map it out
To make work suck less, we have to discern between different types of tasks. Not everything needs your best self. Some tasks just need to be finished.
- What happens if this is wrong? Check consequential details, including in boring work.
- Who needs to use it, and for what? Make it sufficient for that person's next step.
- What would more polishing improve? Continue if it materially helps; stop if you're just making it feel safer to send.
The expense report needs the right amounts. It does not need narrative tension. The project plan needs clear responsibilities and dates; its decorative flourishes can survive some neglect. Decide what makes the thing useful, check that, and let yourself finish.
Use a template or an appropriate tool to get the routine parts done sooner. If you use AI for a draft, check the details before sharing it. A confident sentence with the wrong date is still the wrong date.
Where the saved energy goes
Here we go, here we go, satellite radio: the biggest and best reason to embrace "good enough" is so we have the energy to be present when it counts. If you aren't obsessing over the "perfect" delivery of your update in a meeting, you might actually have the mental space to:
- Listen to the subtext of what your coworker is saying.
- Crack a joke that breaks the tension in a high-pressure moment.
- Actually enjoy the conversation instead of just waiting for your turn to perform.
When you give yourself permission to be "good enough" at the boring stuff, you find you have the capacity to be excellent at the stuff that gives you vitality (whether from doing good work in its own right, or because you just do like the work).
What if my boss demands 110%?
If you work for a manager posting to LinkedIn about radical candor and demanding excellence—the one who thinks a typo in an internal memo is a capital offense—the "good enough" strategy is even more vital.
The Move: Ask which details actually need polish and which need to be accurate, clear, and finished. Try: “I can spend another hour polishing this, or use that time on the client proposal. Which would be more useful?” Use appropriate tools to reduce the repetitive work, and keep the checks that matter.
The Mindset: You aren't lowering your standards; you're being a professional athlete who knows which games are the playoffs and which ones are just practice.
And if this manager continues to harp, even after addressing the question with them directly, maybe it's not about performance. Maybe they just suck. Maybe you quit. Or transfer.
Pete's blessing
I am officially giving you permission to ship that "B-minus" draft. I am giving you permission to stop formatting that spreadsheet once it's readable. I am giving you permission to close your laptop at 5:00 PM even if there's still "stuff" to do.
Work will always be there tomorrow. Your energy, your humor, and your ability to connect with the people around you? Those are the things that are actually in short supply.
Excellence is a tool. Use it sparingly. "Good enough" is a superpower. Use it daily.
Looking to make work and life a little more balanced? Check the guide for making it happen.
Let's make work suck less.