Epistemic status: Musings. 


 

I: Interior decorating

Every time in my life I have had an empty room in my house, an interesting phenomenon happens. 

I fill it, but with random things. I store an old couch in there, I put some crumpled-up boxes of trinkets and memories on top of the couch. I rest an old art easel on the sofa’s arm. I leave used-up paint cans in the corner and put a container of used clothes near the door. 

Every time in my life I have had an empty hour in my day, an interesting phenomenon happens. 

I fill it, but with random things. I lay on my bed and scroll through social media aimlessly, I play a mindless game on my computer. Whatever I have to do I don’t do, but I do just about everything else. If anyone asked what I did, I wouldn’t have anything to say. 

When you have empty space and when you have free time, what can you do to fill it appropriately?

 

II: What happens to vacuums?

Eventually, vacuums are filled. This is how life works. It demands it. 

The extra room will become storage; the free hour will be wasted. 

We should fill our empty spaces intentionally, before they are randomly filled by other things. 

Parkinson’s law supports this premise, suggesting “work expands so as to fill the time available for its completion.” The point being, that if you create a vacuum for the work within a project, without filling that time intentionally, random tasks will spontaneously occur to fill up any “slack time”. 

Work will always demand more from you than you should give. There is always more work to be done, and so if you allow it, work will balloon to fill any extra time you make available. It might mean staying for an extra hour at the office, or doing work when you get home, or “saying yes”  to any offered opportunities. 

When vacuums exist, it isn’t just random things filling up that time or space, but it’s things that are purposely able to fill up that vacuum. 

Certain modern productivity systems are predicated on using all time effectively by creating discrete blocks. Time blocking is the act of providing a very specific amount of time in a very specific slot in the day for each task. You fill up your day with these tasks, and if you go over time, you simply move on. It both tricks you to work harder on each slot for the time you estimated the task should take, and it also rotates you between a number of different high productivity states. 

Vacuums will be filled, so fill them first, the way you want them to be filled. 

 

III: Removing vacuums from existence

We over index on under indexing on things. 

We create vacuums naturally, and naturally, that creates waste. 

We should aim to remove vacuums, or at the very least fill them ahead of time. This is not an indictment of downtime, it is simply suggesting a vacuum to be filled with active intentional downtime. For me personally, if I have time between meetings or tasks, it seems I just reach for my phone and peruse social media, news, or whatever. I will doom scroll, rather than actively seek to relax and rejuvenate my energy. 

If you pack in your schedule and remove vacuums, you can ensure that you don’t get tempted to fill it with other things or have other things stake claims in your vacuums. 

If I have an empty room, and I choose to make it a games room or a guest bedroom, or anything else, not only does it not become full randomly, but it is now purpose-built. I won’t put boxes in it, I won’t make it a mess, it serves a function for me. 

If I have a free hour, and I choose to make it an hour to write an essay, it will be an essay writing hour. This hour is purpose-built. 

When you identify vacuums in space and time, know they will be filled, either by chance or by force. Fill your vacuums with intention, and create something that is purpose-built. Optimize your empty spaces based on what you want, not what the world wants. 

 

What fills a vacuum?

 

You, now. 


 

New Comment
6 comments, sorted by Click to highlight new comments since:
[-]gjm50

Alas! We have a guest room in our house, and it is always filled with random stuff except on the rare occasions when we have guests and have to clear it out. And it ... occasionally ... happens that I've said to myself "so at time T I will do Useful Thing X" but then somehow when time T arrives I fritter it away rather than doing the Useful Thing.

So I fear that the pressure to fill vacua with random stuff applies not only to literal vacua but also to things one's designated a purpose for but without sufficient actual (mentally and emotionally salient) need.

Vacua filling in this article is referring to the planning aspect, and how some plans are better than no plans. The act of following through is another challenge altogether, and maybe certain behaviors can be considered to better increase discipline. 

For example, books like Atomic habits assert "You do not rise to the level of your goals. You fall to the level of your systems." If this is the case, maybe rather than filling vacuums for their own sake, you should instead create habits that fill them. 

All in all, in your example at least that room is quickly able to turn into something of value (a guest room) whereas one that is purely a mess will be much harder to convert into something of use. Additionally, filling vacua randomly with useless things will probably be damaging, so finding some balance is of course important. 

[-]jmh20

While I think the point has merit I am having a bit of difficulty in agreeing that optimization occurs only when the vacuum is filled 100% by me.

I suspect an interior solution exists rather than the corner solution that seems to be suggested.

Great point. I believe the essay certainly misses some degree of nuance for the sake of brevity and clear messaging. Taking what I said to the extreme would mean that every hour of every day should be accounted for and planned for, which I disagree with. Life is inherently unplannable and should be spontaneous. 

The note I did want to capture here, is mostly when or if you find yourself with plenty of vacua but seemingly garnering no benefit from their use. While this may be a long thought to cover later, I suspect the interior solution to be something akin to the flexible filling of a vacuum where you can also intentionally choose to cede time to spontaneous events, work, friends, or any number of other options.

So, should the vacuum be 100% filled by you? I don't think so and I don't think I asserted this in the essay, yet maybe my lack of displaying the opposite point implied this. 

As always, amazing article!

When vacuums exist, it isn’t just random things filling up that time or space, but it’s things that are purposely able to fill up that vacuum.

What do you mean by "purposely?" Didn't Part I exemplify how random, not purposeful things can fill an empty room?