I first became aware of overcommitment early in my professional career when I was writing a program in an awkward, now obsolete language called Table Processor. I was having trouble getting the program to compile, much less run, and with my deadline looming like a hungry predator, I went to my manager for assistance. I explained my failings with exemplary contriteness and was prepared to recite a litany of mea culpas. But my manager interrupted me and said, “Don’t worry. Give it to Robert. He’ll take care of it.”

Now, Robert was a first-class programmer and our best (and only) systems analyst. In his spare time, he doubled as our communications expert and supported off- shift operations by fielding many a midnight phone call. He would have been my first choice for consultation, but any idiot could see he was busier than God during the first six days of creation. In any event, I felt guilty disturbing him with my problem since he had plenty of his own and I knew he was already under enough pressure to make a tea kettle moan. So I mentioned to my manager that, seeing as how Robert was busy and all, perhaps someone else could assist me. I remember how my boss abruptly stopped scanning the papers on his desk, looked up, and smiled slyly. He examined me over his glasses in apparent amusement, perhaps at my naivete, and said, “Son, if you want to get something done, always give it to the busiest person.”

Aha! A learning moment. Of course. It made perfect sense. Those who were competent and willing would always be swamped. Those who sat around with not much to do (like me at the time) probably either hadn’t yet developed their skills sufficiently or had offered them so grudgingly that they were seldom asked to do more. Busy, I realized, begets busy.

Everywhere I worked after that, there seemed to be a handful of people who did everything. They accepted every task and patiently answered every question no matter how many times it had been asked before. They worked grindingly long hours, and what spare time they had was often filled with work they took home. They were sometimes frazzled, usually tired, and occasionally resentful. But they never said “no.” In so doing, they trained everyone else to become dependent on them. And with increased dependence came increased demands. At times, without being fully aware of it, their management and

coworkers took merciless advantage of them. They had, in a sense, become casualties of their own capability and good nature.

The paradox is that overcommitters are typically ultra-competent people who are in control of just about everything except their own motivations. The potent and complex fuel mixture that propels overcommitment is usually blended in childhood. By the time it manifests itself in adulthood, it typically contains some combination of desires to please, placate, or prove oneself.

Pleasing, placating, and proving have closely related characteristics. First among them is searching for approval from the outside. The giving up of self for the approval of others is, of course, an unending process and, for the seeker, ultimately ungratifying. Each new commitment holds the false promise of esteem but is soon replaced by the next and the next. Like Egyptian pyramid builders, overcommitters will work until they drop. Sometimes literally. Their self-worth is tied to doing, rather than being. They can be counted on to be compliant and to play by the rules. They are the backbones of many an understaffed organization.

Overcommitment may also stem from a lack of trust in the ability of others and the belief that if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself. First-time managers will frequently find themselves overcommitted, having not yet discovered the emancipation of delegation.

Another type of overcommitment is frequently practiced by highly gifted people who thrive on constant stimulation. Not by coincidence, many such people are drawn to careers in Information Technology (IT), where change is as predictable as political scandal. They progressively agree to take on more and more responsibility but will only work on a given task full-heartedly until it ceases to be interesting. Once bored, they start looking for the next challenge, the next operating system, the next exciting gadget to configure. Like inquisitive tornadoes, they move through the workscape looking for new domains to chew up, leaving a junkyard of partially completed projects in their wash. They cringe at the prospect of performance measurements and rebel against restrictions.

In their quest for the creative challenge, they overlook the possibility that any activity becomes creative when you commit to doing it better than you did it before.

Whichever variety of overcommitment you practice, all of the stresses, pressures, and burn-out common to those who slavishly assume unwarranted obligations can be attributed to the inability to utter a single word: no. It is a failure to set boundaries, to define limits, and, in some cases, to focus on a task through to completion. It may also evidence a refusal to properly care for oneself. Many overcommitters I know run on caffeine, eat quickly rather than nutritiously, and sleep marginally.

Saying “no” is an acquired skill and, like any skill, requires practice and repetition. A simple place to start is to say no to project B until you have completed project A. Time can also be a delimiter—commit to no more than can be accomplished in a single business day. Informing your coworkers that you are intent on interrupting the overcommitment cycle will help them understand the new word in your vocabulary. It may also temper the volume of their requests.

The inability to say “no” has many prices, not the least of which is that it becomes the onramp to resentment. Years of saying “yes” when you mean “no” exacts a toxic toll. Resentment is like swallowing poison and expecting the other person to die—not very effective as an outcome.

The results of all of this are both good and bad. Obviously, the world would run much differently without overcommitters. Lots of stuff wouldn’t get done. But lots of stuff doesn’t get done anyway because overcommitters frequently give an incongruent “yes” to new responsibilities they know they cannot possibly assume. As a result, overcommitters are often left with feelings of failure and disappointment when the impossible fails to happen. They may also be targets for the discontent and frustration of coworkers who were promised things that were not delivered. To compensate, the skillful overcommitter will redouble his efforts by overcommitting anew.

While in the process of learning to say “no,” prioritization will help set reasonable limits. Draw a nine-square grid like the one shown here.

All incoming tasks will fall into one of the nine squares. Obviously, PRESENT/URGENT tasks get top priority. FUTURE/TRIVIAL should not even be on the radar screen. In fact, only four blocks on the grid should occupy your attention: PRESENT/URGENT, PRESENT/ IMPORTANT, PENDING/URGENT, and PENDING/IMPORTANT. The rest you can ignore unless they move up the priority ladder by virtue of your having completed all other tasks.

When a project request comes in, ask the requestor to help prioritize it. Yes, people tend to think that their tasks are more important than the next person’s, but a realistic prioritization can be negotiated. In cases of impasse, ask your manager to act as a mediator. If uncertain, check to ensure that your priority list matches your manager’s. If you accept a task, commit to seeing it through to the end.

Managers can help by having clearly defined job descriptions that are frequently updated based on changing job requirements and new technologies. Compare job descriptions with what employees are actually doing and adjust where necessary. Managers can also deliberately begin to ease their dependence on “the busiest people,” staff up where necessary, and distribute the workload more equitably.

On the surface, it would appear that overcommitters are self-starters who seem to need little supervision. The opposite, in fact, is true: They need help focusing on the priority at hand, which for some may be a casual reminder (“Remember, we agreed you’d have the report finished by Wednesday.”) and for others, a weekly review of assigned tasks. Perhaps most important is this: Employees with a history of saying “yes” will need a manager’s backing to say “no.”

In the final analysis, overcommitment is a habit, and it will require time to reframe. Unraveling the motivation behind the behavior is always helpful but is particularly challenging for overcommitters because it requires them to stop and reflect. People who pack so much into every moment are often afraid to stop. A busy life is not necessarily a purposeful life, and self-immolation is sometimes preferable to self-examination.

Whatever the trials that accompany overcommitment, as a manager I always preferred overcommitters to undercommitters: The former are employees who work hard but are a challenge to direct; the latter drift without direction, seeking neither challenge nor exertion. The important word in overcommitment, after all, is commitment.

Urgent

Important Trivial

Present

Pending

Future