Multitasking. There goes that word again. So much a part of our parlance that we don’t even flinch at its mention anymore. So ingrained as a pre-requisite skill of our modern age that we simply shrug at the mere thought of even questioning it. Up there as a lofty aspiration of capability and mastery from an early age. Yet is it all it’s cracked up to be?
The word comes heavy laden, laced with global cultural meaning about an assumed, unspoken pace of work in relation to time, an ability to cope with increased demands – often of our own making – to keep up, stay on top of, be seen to be doing. It’s all about time and activity optimisation and little to do with the quality in which we do and by association, of what we leave behind of what we do.
With its origins in computer language, the word reflects the concept of running two or more programmes or sets of instructions in one computer, the idea and purpose being to maximise the computer’s available resources at all times.
That we’ve forgotten we are not machines with an on-off button but needing space for recovery, reflection and repose appears to have been an oversight in our adoption and usage of this concept. For many of us now run our lives as though we are totally time bound, treading water frantically in an overwhelming to-do list with vacation as the only escape – or so we thought until the arrival of mobile technology and global internet access.
But multitasking isn’t just about our dexterity at cramming it all in and getting it all done. It also exposes the way in which we’re getting things done – and that is, in a diluted way. If we’re doing two or three things at one time, then our attention, our care, our quality and our impact are diluted that many times over, so that the whole is certainly not greater than the sum of the parts and is probably only just scraping in a poor equal.
Today I was in the kitchen preparing a shed load of food for a party. Much to be done, little time to do it in and other things going mouldy on my to-do list adding to the pressure I’d put myself under. I made a choice to put the radio on and be ‘entertained’ whilst I worked. After an hour of listening to one of those pugnacious political slanging matches disguised as a mature debate about current affairs, I switched off and continued my peeling and chopping. Suddenly I realised I was back with myself. I could hear my own gentle breathing. I could feel my feet on the floor and became aware of the smell of fresh food. There was a silence and a calmness and it dawned on me that I hadn’t been there for the past hour. So where had I been? Well, not in my body that’s for sure. I’d been in my head; in an out-of-body, in-mind experience.
Reflecting on this, I realised that I’d indeed been multitasking. Head in the radio, hands in the kitchen, operating in a form of culinary autopilot, not present, not with the food or the task. It made me consider the quality I’d been working in. If I’d been so wrapped up in and affected by the radio’s antics, then what was the effect of that on the food I’d prepared already? Had I been careful, cutting corners, slapdash, thorough or gentle? How could I know if I hadn’t been fully present?
My next hour in the kitchen was tranquil, focused and attentive on my single task. I was in each moment, aware of what I was doing, clocking everything. My preparation was more exact and accurate and I was enjoying myself. The activity flowed with an ease I couldn’t parallel with the previous hour and I felt much more connected to myself, with no concern for what was next on my list. Just the responsibility for my food preparation.
Being ‘good at multitasking’ is presented as a must-have in a world where achievement and pace, getting things done, outcomes and actions are all important. But I wonder, what do we deny ourselves and others as a consequence? Perhaps a full and true connection when speaking to a loved one on the phone whilst trying to pull up an email with details of your next meeting? Or receiving the full meaning of what is being conveyed to you in face-to-face conversation when at the same time squeezing in a quick text to someone else? Technology supports us in this very dilution of quality in communication by providing us an ever-upgrading platform from which to ‘make life easier’. Is it possible then, that technology itself has given us a means of disregarding that civility, respect and dignity historically afforded to a fellow human being, all in the name of multitasking? With these behaviours now firmly rooted in our culture, is this not worrying in terms of the quality of our daily communication and the impact on our relationships?
I know when I focus fully and entirely on one thing at a time – a conversation, a task, going for a walk – my quality for the period I’m on it is optimal and the activity somehow way more replete when finished. This focus allows me to be fully present in my body and it’s that presence that supports my mind to focus on the task without going into overwhelm about the rest of my to-do list. I’m beginning to redefine multitasking as a way I just over-busy my mind, in so doing helping it delude itself that it’s in control of everything when in fact it’s just keeping a range of priority plates spinning.
So are we perhaps missing a trick here – that multitasking in many respects means things are done to a lesser degree of thoroughness and quality? For how can we give our all to something when we’re giving that all to a variety of things at the same time? Surely that must mean a dilution and lessening in the quality of the outcomes? If we’re truly focused on what it is we’re leaving behind in our wake, then perhaps it’s time to challenge whether multitasking really is all it’s cracked up to be?