How to Stop Saying Yes to Things You Don't Have Time For

The calendar looked empty when you agreed. It always does.

Six weeks ago someone asked if you would help with the fundraiser, and six weeks from then felt like open country. Of course you said yes. Now it is this Thursday, and you are looking at it wedged between a deadline, a dentist appointment, and a child's science project, wondering what you were thinking.

You were thinking what almost everyone thinks. This is not a discipline problem or a people-pleasing problem, or at least not only that. It is a forecasting problem. You are making promises on behalf of a future version of yourself who you imagine has more room than you do.

She does not. And once you understand why you keep expecting her to, the fix is fairly mechanical.

The future always looks emptier than it is

Researchers Gal Zauberman and John Lynch ran a series of seven surveys, published in the Journal of Experimental Psychology: General, asking people how much spare time and money they expected to have in the future compared with now.

People were fairly realistic about money. They expected next month's budget to be about as tight as this one. Time was another story. People consistently believed they would have more free time later than they have today.

The reason is simple once you see it. This week is full of specific things: the meeting, the errand, the sick child. Next month is not full yet, because the specifics have not arrived. So it looks roomy. But the things that will fill it are coming just as surely; you simply cannot see them from here.

The researchers have a nickname for what happens next: the "Yes...Damn" effect. You say yes now, and when the day comes, you say the other word.

They also note why experience does not cure it. The details of what crowds each week are always different, so it never quite registers that the crowding itself is constant.

Everything also takes longer than you think

Stacked on top of that is a second error. Even when you do think about a commitment, you underestimate what it involves.

Psychologists call this the planning fallacy. In the classic study by Roger Buehler and colleagues, students were asked to predict how long it would take to finish their honors theses. They estimated about 34 days on average. It actually took about 55.

According to a summary from the Donders Institute at Radboud University, two things drive it. We are optimistic about delays outside our control, and we fail to consult our own history. We remember last year's bake sale as "a couple of hours" and forget the shopping, the cleanup, and the two evenings of group texts.

Put the two together and you have the full picture. You imagine a future with extra room, then fit a shrunken version of the task into it. No wonder Thursday is a mess.

What it costs

Laura Giurge and Ashley Whillans, who study time and well-being, define time poverty as the feeling of having too many things to do and not enough time to do them. In an analysis of 2.5 million Americans, they report, feeling time-poor had a stronger negative effect on well-being than being unemployed.

So the casual yes is not harmless. Each one is small. Together they produce the life where you are always behind, always apologizing, and never quite present for any of it.

Four rules for deciding

Rule 1: The "this week" test

Since the distortion comes from distance, remove the distance. Before answering any request for the future, ask:

"If this were happening this week, would I say yes?"

Not an ideal week. This one, with everything already in it.

If the answer is no, the honest answer is no for six weeks from now too, because that week will look much like this one by the time you reach it. If the answer is "yes, I'd make room," then it matters enough to you, and you can agree with a clear conscience.

Rule 2: Price it properly before you agree

To counter the planning fallacy, use the two fixes the research points to.

1. Check your own history. How long did this, or something like it, take last time? Count all of it: preparation, travel, follow-up messages, recovery.

2. Ask someone else. We are better at predicting other people's timelines than our own. "How long do you think running the raffle really takes?" A friend who has done it will give you the truth.

Then add half again. If your honest estimate is four hours, call it six. Now decide.

A quick pricing table helps:

• The request: "Can you bake for the sale?"

  • What you pictured: One hour

  • What it really includes: Shopping, baking, cooling, packaging, drop-off

• The request: "Join the committee, it's one meeting a month"

  • What you pictured: 12 hours a year

  • What it really includes: Meetings, emails between meetings, the task you get assigned

• The request: "Come for the weekend"

  • What you pictured: Two days

  • What it really includes: Packing, travel, laundry, the Monday you start tired

• The request: "Could you look over my résumé?"

  • What you pictured: 15 minutes

  • What it really includes: Reading, comments, the follow-up call

Rule 3: Put it in the calendar before you answer

Do not just check whether the date is free. Block every piece of the commitment, including the preparation and the travel, as real appointments.

If you cannot find places for all of it, you have your answer, and you have it before you promised anything. If you can, look at what sits next to it. A free Saturday after five packed days is not free. It is the only rest you were going to get.

Rule 4: One in, one out

Your time is fully spent already. That is what being busy means. So every new yes takes hours from something, whether you name it or not. Usually it comes out of sleep, exercise, or the unstructured time with people you love, because those have no deadline to defend them.

Make the trade explicit. Before agreeing, finish the sentence:

"If I say yes to this, I am saying no to ____."

If you cannot name what gives, then what gives will be chosen for you.

Some women find it useful to set a fixed number: two evening commitments a week, one volunteer role per season. When you are at the limit, a new yes requires dropping an old one. It turns an agonizing judgment call into simple arithmetic.

What to say on the spot

You need a line that buys you time to run these checks.

• "Let me look at what that week actually involves and tell you tomorrow."

• "What does it include, start to finish? I want to be sure I can do it properly."

• "I'm at my limit for this month. Ask me again for the next one."

• "I can't commit to all of it. I could do the setup on the day."

That second question is underrated. Asking what something really involves often reveals it is twice the size you assumed, and it shows the person asking that you take commitments seriously.

Backing out of a yes you should not have given

You probably have one or two on the books right now. You are allowed to undo them. The decent way is early, plainly, and without a long story.

When there is still plenty of notice. "I said yes to this before I looked honestly at my month, and I can't do it well. I need to step back. I wanted to tell you now so you have time to find someone."

When you can do part of it. "I overcommitted. I can't run the whole thing, but I can still handle the sign-up sheet. Would that help?"

For a recurring role. "I've realized I can't keep this up. I'll finish out this month, and I'm happy to hand over my notes to whoever takes it on."

Three things make a withdrawal fair to the other person: as much notice as possible, no vagueness about whether you are in or out, and a handover where one is useful. It is uncomfortable for a day. Doing the thing badly and resentfully is uncomfortable for much longer, for both of you.

Do not withdraw from everything at once, and do keep the promises that others are truly relying on at short notice. The aim is a calendar you can honor, not a reputation for vanishing.

Try this today

1. Run the "this week" test on one pending request. If you would not do it this week, send your no today.

2. Find one "Yes...Damn" already in your calendar and decide whether to keep it, shrink it, or step back using one of the scripts above.

3. Set your number. Decide how many optional commitments you can carry in a week. Write it where you will see it when your phone buzzes.

Protect your day, including the ones that have not arrived yet.

Sources

• ScienceDaily, "Why Do We Overcommit? Study Suggests We Think We'll Have More Time In The Future Than We Have Today" (Zauberman & Lynch, Journal of Experimental Psychology: General)

• Donders Institute, Radboud University, Donders Wonders blog post on Buehler, Griffin & Ross and the planning fallacy

• Wellbeing Research Centre, University of Oxford, "Beyond Material Poverty: Why Time Poverty Matters for Individuals, Organisations, and Nations" (Giurge & Whillans)