Why Deadlines Make Us Better

You’ve probably seen this play out in real life.

A team gets CC’ed on an email thread that should’ve ended five replies ago. A 15-minute status update turns into an hour-long brainstorm that solves nothing. A simple Google Doc becomes a cross-departmental collaboration with four owners and seventeen comments.

The work doesn’t get better. It just gets slower.

This isn’t a bug of modern work. It’s how time behaves when no one sets boundaries.

In the 1950s, British historian ​Cyril Parkinson​ observed a similar pattern while studying government bureaucracies. Departments with less to do somehow took longer to do it. More people meant more delay, not less. Decisions that once took an hour now require five signatures and two weeks.

So he coined a phrase that still rings true today:

Work expands to fill the time available for its completion.

What he saw wasn’t just about government waste. It was a mirror for all of us. Give a task a day, and it takes a day. Give it a week, and it’ll quietly stretch, stall, and sprawl until it consumes the week.

That report you meant to finish in an afternoon? It’s still sitting in drafts three days later. That outline for your talk? It somehow turned into a full-blown project.

This is how work quietly expands. The longer the runway, the more we let the task grow, morph, and sprawl. We don’t always notice it happening—until we’re knee-deep in tabs, tweaks, and second-guesses.

Parkinson’s Law explains this perfectly. But more importantly, it shows us a way out—if we’re willing to shrink the container.

Three Days vs Three Hours

A while back, I gave myself three full days to write a newsletter.

It should have felt spacious. Strategic. High quality.

Instead, I spent the first day dabbling with ideas. The second day, reorganized notes and wondered if I picked the right topic. By day three, I was deep in headline drafts and rewriting the intro. I submitted something in the end, but the process felt slow, heavy, and oddly exhausting.

Now contrast that with a recent issue I wrote in a tight 3-hour block.

I didn’t wait for inspiration. I didn’t have time to meander. Throughout the week, I’d already been ​collecting snippets​—ideas, phrases, stories that caught my eye. When it was time to write, I flipped through my notes, picked one, and quickly sketched an outline.

Then I wrote. With flow. With speed. And yes, with the help of ChatGPT to sharpen the structure. The result? Just as strong. Far less painful.

The difference wasn’t the quality of the idea. It was the shape of the time.

Procrastination Thrives in the Absence of Constraints

We think we need more time to do better work. Often, it’s the opposite.

When time is wide open, there’s no edge. No urgency. So we fill it with doubts, tweaks, and unnecessary effort. We wait until we feel ready. We second-guess the topic. We tinker.

But when time is short, we act. We decide. We focus.

Parkinson’s Law isn’t just a theory about inefficiency. It’s a tool for focus. And when used well, it can be ​a quiet antidote to procrastination​.

How to Apply Parkinson’s Law (Without Burning Out)

This isn’t about rushing through your work or forcing stress into your process. It’s about using time as a tool instead of letting it drift. The goal is focus—not pressure. Here's how you can apply Parkinson’s Law in a way that helps you do better work in less time, without burning out.

Step 1: Focus on the few things that truly matter

Start by writing down everything on your plate. Then, instead of looking at deadlines or pressure, ask a different question:

“Which of these, if done well, will actually move things forward?”

Don’t ​mistake urgency for importance​. Your inbox may be urgent. But shipping your product, writing your pitch, or closing that loop with a client—those are the things that compound.

Pick 1–3 tasks. Let the rest wait.

Step 2: Assign a reasonable time limit

Now estimate how long you’d usually take for each of those tasks.

Not how long it should take. How long it does. This becomes your baseline. A blog post might normally take you 3 hours. A proposal might drag out over a week. Just be honest.

Step 3: Cut the time in half

Here’s where it gets uncomfortable—and effective.

Take your estimate and cut it in half. If it’s 3 hours, make it 90 minutes. If it’s one week, give it 3 days. Create a firm boundary.

This isn’t about stress. It’s about intention. When you know the window is tight, you skip the fluff. You decide faster. You stop trying to make it perfect—and start making it real.

You might be surprised what you can ship in less time.

Step 4: Execute, then reflect

Run the sprint. Stick to the deadline.

After you’re done, pause. Don’t just move on. Reflect:

• Was it enough time?
• Did I feel sharp—or stressed?
• What slowed me down?

If you hit your mark with ease, try shaving another 10–20% off next time. If you felt rushed and sloppy, add some back. Your goal is to find that sweet spot: focused, productive, and present.

Three Ways to Use This Starting Today

You don’t need to overhaul your whole system to use Parkinson’s Law. You just need to create sharper edges around your time. Here are a few places you can start applying this today—small shifts that unlock big clarity:

• Writing: Give yourself 45 minutes to draft your next article—and ship it by day’s end.
• Meetings: Take that 60-minute weekly sync and cut it to 30. Keep only what matters.
• Planning: Sketch out your next launch plan in 90 minutes. Don’t wait for the perfect strategy.

Deadlines don’t just help you finish. They help you focus. They remind you what really matters.

Constraints Create Urgency

Procrastination isn’t always about being lazy. It’s about having too much room.

When you have too much time, a task turns soft. It loses shape. You sit down to start—but don’t know how. So you stall. You change the font. You Google one more thing. You check your phone. You tweak and re-tweak. And somehow, an hour passes without much to show for it.

But when you give yourself a clear limit—just enough time, but not too much—you change the game. You stop fiddling and ​start doing​. You get to the point. You focus because you have to.

So next time you open a blank doc or face a vague to-do, don’t ask: “How much time do I need?”

Ask: “What can I do with just one focused hour?”

Then set a timer. Watch the clarity flood in.