The Sirens of Hard Work

Most founders don’t lack effort. We lack precision. We need to work on the right things, in the right state, at the right time.

I’m lucky that my parents raised me with a strong work ethic. I wouldn’t be successful without it. Unfortuately, I've learned that not all hard work is equal. Along my founder CEO journey I wasted a lot of time on things that didn’t matter. I can’t A/B test a parallel universe, but I suspect I could’ve worked at least 30% less and achieved just as much, if not more.

My productivity obsession was fear and ego wearing a costume. I needed to be seen as a hard worker. It was my identity. I derived self-worth from it. I was scared of being judged as lazy and uncommitted. Truthfully, I was already judging myself. I wore my nonstop back-to-back calendar like a badge of honor. I stacked my trophy case with 80+ hour weeks. I got drunk on busyness. Almost always last to leave the office. Look at me, I’m working so hard. I’m setting a good example for my team. But by the end of the day I was too tired to do meaningful work. I’d just mindlessly scroll Slack. Read articles. Stare at a blank screen. My time would’ve been better spent resting, exercising, or seeing friends.

Even rest felt uncomfortable. If I’m not grinding, I’m failing. I’d step away but never truly unplug because a good leader is always there for their team. After nine years of sprinting as CEO, I finally took a six-week sabbatical. “Call me if there’s an emergency.” When I returned, my colleagues said that I was a different person. Calm. Positive. Thoughtful. Energized. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough to fully refill my tank. My burnout and depression were irreversible. Elite athletes treat rest and recovery as part of the work. We should too.

As we scaled, my need for control and maniacal attention to detail worked against me. I focused on everything, which meant that I focused on nothing. Yes, sometimes Founder Mode is needed. But I wanted perfection everywhere. I’d send a 2 AM email calling out a typo in a support ticket. Occasionally, it was a good use of my time. More often, it was a toxic outlet for my stress, anxiety, and insecurity. I bottlenecked my team. More hours. More context switching. Less impact. Local maximums over global ones.

Credit: It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia (I LOVE this show!)

Now I ask leaders three questions:

1. Have you ever had a day where you got more done than an entire week?

2. If we audited your past quarter, what % of your hours actually moved the needle?

3. How would you work if no one rewarded busyness?

We say we value results. But we often signal that we value activity and visible effort. We reward the fastest reply, not the best thinking. The loudest voice, not the insightful question. The firefighter, not the one who prevented it. Winning over learning. Our teams optimize accordingly. And we wonder why we’re not moving the needle.

Hours worked is a vanity metric. We currently optimize Time ➡️ Impact. This is broken. When the Time vs. Impact curve goes sublinear, the solution isn’t more hours. It’s to change the slope.

The real equation is Energy ➡️ Impact. When we’re not feeling inspired, focused, and creative, we shouldn’t force output. We should change state. Travel. Dance. Watch a movie. Meditate. Whatever it takes to get back to flow.

To be clear, I’m not anti hard work. I’m a fan of 100 hour weeks if we’re in flow. If we’re inspired. But mindless low-impact work is just motion without progress. A traditional 40+ hour week isn’t discipline. It’s an Industrial Age ghost haunting our Creative Age. Stop clocking in and out. Start compounding impact. Or don’t. Just be honest about what it’s costing you.

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Side note. Last year I was diagnosed with severe ADHD. “A Ferrari mind with bicycle brakes”¹. It means that my attention scatters, and so does my impact. A task that should take an hour might take two. I’m honestly impressed that I was as successful as I was. And I would’ve been even more successful if I had gotten help sooner. I suspect many founders are in the same boat. Neurodivergence is both a superpower and a liability. I encourage proactive diagnosis, and if you have it, learn how to manage its downsides. Knowledge is power!

1. Dr. Edward Hallowell