Steel, Piers. The Procrastination Equation: How to stop Putting Things Off and Start Getting Stuff Done. New York: Harper, 2011.
I don’t have a reputation as a procrastinator. In fact, some employers and clients have hired me because of my ability to get things done. However, looking around my home and office I saw many unfinished and delayed projects that indicated procrastination was a problem for me in some areas.
In The Procrastination Equation, Piers Steel describes the reasons behind procrastination and its scary costs, both to individuals and society. Fortunately, he also provides strategies for overcoming procrastination.
The big issue for procrastinators is impulsivity. I balked at this at first; I didn’t see myself as an impulsive person. When I read Steels description of how it works, I admitted to myself that I was more impulsive than I realized.
Impulsivity is an issue for nearly all procrastinators, indeed for nearly all people. Our limbic system drives use to respond to immediate concrete payoffs. Most of us live and work in a world of more distant, abstract goals, the realm of the prefrontal cortex. In the battle between the will of the prefrontal cortex and the urges of the limbic system, the limbic system is much stronger, so most of us are wired to give in to immediate gratification and give up, for a while, on seemingly far off, ethereal and uncertain objectives.
The way we live hits us from both sides. The greatest benefits accrue to those who can delay immediate gratification for greater, later benefits (eat vegetables instead of cookies, exercise instead of sleep in late, save money rather than spending it on the latest gadget). On the other side, we are bombarded with distractions that have immediate payoffs (especially television and the internet).
Steel offers methods for bolstering the prefrontal cortex, reducing distractions and even turning our impulsivity to our advantage. Even before I was finished with the book, I was seeing ways I could put some of these techniques into practice for myself.
There are other reasons for procrastination, but not many. You can take a short test in the book to find out why you procrastinate. In my case, one other factor in Steel’s equation was significant in my procrastination. I could see how it influenced my delaying habits throughout my life, even going back to my rebellion against spelling homework and multiplication tables in third grade (it’s amazing that I passed third grade).
I haven’t eliminated procrastination overnight (I just finished reading the book), and Steel doesn’t suggest anyone can. One can start doing something about it right away, and the science-based approaches offered in this book offer a reasonable expectation of success.
As an aside, I tweeted that I was reading the book and Dr. Steel and he replied with a humorous tweet that demonstrates my theory that published authors are also salesmen. (By the way, the tone of his book is often humorous, too.) Any of us who have a product or service to offer are salesmen, including me. Anyway, if you’re reading this, Dr. Steel, I managed to return the book to the library on time. Perhaps a few of the readers of this review will due us both the favor of buying a copy of the book.
If you’re interested in this book, you may also be interested in
How to Get Control of Your Time and Your Life by Alan Lakein
One Small Step Can Change Your Life by Robert Maurer
The Richest Man Who Ever Lived by Steven K. Scott
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query concrete. Sort by date Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query concrete. Sort by date Show all posts
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Monday, September 2, 2013
London Under by Peter Ackroyd
London
is an ancient city. The Romans established
a settlement their a thousand years ago, but they weren’t the first inhabitants
of the valley. It sits on soil into which everything slowly sinks. Rivers that
brought life to the valley became choked with filth and were buried. The ground
under London is thick with history,
and the infrastructure
of a modern metropolis mingles with the remains of its ancestors. Peter Ackroyd
describes what is beneath the surface of that great city in London Under.
Ackroyd goes back to the earliest settlers of the area and the archeological
remains of their lives. Their holy places were overbuilt by Roman temples. The temples
dedicated to Roman gods were overbuilt by churches.
Old paths became Roman roads. The filth of
a city covered these roads and turned them back into dirt paths. Modern people
paved them anew with brick,
and later asphalt or concrete. It’s
all still there, though, one thing layered over the other, but often still
following the outlines ancient paths.
As you might expect from a man with who has worked with water,
some of my favorite chapters relate to the rivers and sewers.
London was built around rivers. As the population grew, these rivers became
open sewers, carrying away all manner of waste until they were too filthy and
stinking to bear. These rivers were enclosed and became underground sewers. As
the city grew, it overwhelmed the sewers and turned the Thames into a
stinking mess. Eventually it inconvenienced Parliament
enough that they engaged the problems seriously in the 19th
Century, putting in place interceptor sewers that carried the waste away
from the city. Many of the sewers that are now more than a century old are
still in use.
Another feature of London that fascinates my engineering side is the
Underground. The city has the oldest underground railway system.
The first lines are more than 150 years old. It was built in bits and pieces by
competing private companies, though now it is a unified system. The Underground
has become such a part of London life that a literature related to it has
developed. The tunnels
have been the settings of novels
and the inspiration for poems.
World
War II and the Cold War were
another significant phase of buried construction.
The British government
built many tunnels and bunkers to protect government resources threatened by war. During World
War II, so many people sought shelter in the Underground that the government
was forced to provide shelter space for people escaping the bombs.
Like any modern city, London now has an extensive underground
infrastructure. Pipelines carry drinking water, sewerage, electric and
telephone wires, fiber optic cables and all the other things that connect
people to services in their homes and workplaces. These important systems are hidden
underground, out of site and possibly too often out of mind, where their work
apparently does not disturb the sleeping remains of the many things that had
come before.
If you are interested in this book, you may also be interested in
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Dreams of Iron and Steel by Deborah Cadbury & The Lighthouse Stevensons by Bella Bathurst
In Dreams of Iron and Steel (New York: HarperCollins, 2004), Deborah Cadbury tells the stories of seven great works that cover over a century of engineering history. Originally published in Great Britain as Seven Wonders of the Industrial World, the book was a companion to a BBC television series. The projects covered vary widely from a sewer built under a metropolis to a bridge that towered above the skyline of its day.
The oldest of these (still standing like all but one of the other projects) is the Bell Rock lighthouse. The Bell Rock sank many ships that sought shelter from North Sea storms in Scotland’s Firth of Forth. Robert Stevenson, grandfather of author Robert Louis Stevenson, designed and oversaw the construction of a tower on it. The rock was a formidable construction site. It sat eleven miles from land. High tide covered it with as much as 16 feet of water. Low tide exposed an area only 250 by 130 feet. Yet Stevenson and his men built a 100-foot, stone tower on it. They did it 200 years ago.
By the middle of the nineteenth century, several wonders were built almost at once. The Great Eastern, built by Isambard Kingdom Brunel, was twice the size of any other ship. Though a commercial failure, it set the standard for the next generation of ships.
Brunel launched his ship into a dirty and diseased Thames. Joseph Bazalgette sought to make the river safer for London residents. He built sewers under an ancient city that had grown to 2.5 million people and sprawled over 80 square miles.
In the American West, rival firms raced across the continent to build a railroad that would unite a nation recovering from civil war. In New York, John and Washington Roebling tackled the broad East River with their Brooklyn Bridge. They risked their lives and reputations on the longest span of the day and a material untested in bridges—steel.
The twentieth century inaugurated bigger feats. First proposed in 1879 by Vicomte Ferdinand de Lesseps of France, builder of the Suez Canal, the Panama Canal defeated most of those tried to build it. Even the United States poked at the mountains in futility until John Stevens, a railroad engineer, upgraded the infrastructure and equipment. When Stevens left the canal, a frustrated Theodore Roosevelt put military officers in charge. Lieutenant Colonel George Goethels, an engineer with extensive lock and dam experience, saw the canal through to its completion shortly before World War I.
The final project, America’s “damn big dam”, was build during the Depression. Hoover Dam was huge and constructed under difficult conditions. But construction engineer Frank “Hurry up” Crowe pushed and planned to get it done early and under budget.
Cadbury treats each project separately. However, they are linked by common elements.
Tragedy and setbacks touched each one. Thousands of men, usually poor laborers and sometimes children, were killed or injured to make these huge structures. They were beset by lack of financing, reluctance to try new methods and materials, bankrupt contractors, political opposition, corruption, greed, prejudice, and other human imperfections.
At their best, these engineers and their wonders are linked by the same qualities that appear in the best of engineering today. They had a vision to make people safer, healthier, richer, and freer. They created solutions to immense problems.
Robert Stevenson’s triumph at Bell Rock won the confidence of the Northern Lighthouse Board. It also launched an association between the Stevenson family and Scottish lighthouses that lasted four generations. During their tenures in the office of engineer for the board, Stevenson and his sons dominated the design, construction, and operation of the lights. Bella Bathurst tells their story in The Lighthouse Stevensons (New York: HarperCollins, 1999).
This book has its own kind of variety: technical, professional, and personal. It covers the construction and technology of several lighthouses, the masterpieces of Robert and his three sons. They not only built towers, but also improved their design and the design of the lamps, reflectors, optics, and mechanical systems that operated in them. One even studied the waves that assaulted their works.
It shows that engineering is more than simply design and construction. The Stevensons were also managers, fundraisers, businessmen, public servants, purchasing agents, manufacturers, contractors, and more. Their work included a broad section of what engineers do.
The book is also a biography of these four men that reveals the dynamics of the family. Robert insisted his sons join the family profession and business. Only one, David, seemed to take to it naturally. Only David’s sons filled the next generation of lighthouse Stevensons. Alan and Tom were more inclined to work in literature and the arts. Alan proved himself to be a capable engineer by building a 138-foot light at Skerryvore that could withstand the elements and exhibit a simple beauty. He became so disabled by disease, Bathurst suggests it was muscular sclerosis, that he gave up his work with the lighthouses. He managed to work irregularly as a writer. His works include and encyclopedia article on lighthouses and a translation of Greek poems. Tom shared Alan’s artistic leaning, but not his intensity and focus. He and David eventually divided the engineering work for the Northern Lights.
Not everyone is cut out to be an engineer, of course. As Robert Louis Stevenson said about his internship in the profession, “He is a wise youth, to be sure, who can balance one part of genuine life against two parts of drudgery between four walls and for the sake of one, manfully accept the other.” But some managed to catch what Marion Allen, a laborer on the Hoover Dam, called constructitis. “Sometimes one thinks he is cured,” said Allen, “only to have a relapse when he goes by fresh concrete or catches the smell of fresh sawdust from new lumber. Anyone with this affliction has to start construction of some kind, even of only to dig a hole and fill it up again.”
Order this book here.
The oldest of these (still standing like all but one of the other projects) is the Bell Rock lighthouse. The Bell Rock sank many ships that sought shelter from North Sea storms in Scotland’s Firth of Forth. Robert Stevenson, grandfather of author Robert Louis Stevenson, designed and oversaw the construction of a tower on it. The rock was a formidable construction site. It sat eleven miles from land. High tide covered it with as much as 16 feet of water. Low tide exposed an area only 250 by 130 feet. Yet Stevenson and his men built a 100-foot, stone tower on it. They did it 200 years ago.
By the middle of the nineteenth century, several wonders were built almost at once. The Great Eastern, built by Isambard Kingdom Brunel, was twice the size of any other ship. Though a commercial failure, it set the standard for the next generation of ships.
Brunel launched his ship into a dirty and diseased Thames. Joseph Bazalgette sought to make the river safer for London residents. He built sewers under an ancient city that had grown to 2.5 million people and sprawled over 80 square miles.
In the American West, rival firms raced across the continent to build a railroad that would unite a nation recovering from civil war. In New York, John and Washington Roebling tackled the broad East River with their Brooklyn Bridge. They risked their lives and reputations on the longest span of the day and a material untested in bridges—steel.
The twentieth century inaugurated bigger feats. First proposed in 1879 by Vicomte Ferdinand de Lesseps of France, builder of the Suez Canal, the Panama Canal defeated most of those tried to build it. Even the United States poked at the mountains in futility until John Stevens, a railroad engineer, upgraded the infrastructure and equipment. When Stevens left the canal, a frustrated Theodore Roosevelt put military officers in charge. Lieutenant Colonel George Goethels, an engineer with extensive lock and dam experience, saw the canal through to its completion shortly before World War I.
The final project, America’s “damn big dam”, was build during the Depression. Hoover Dam was huge and constructed under difficult conditions. But construction engineer Frank “Hurry up” Crowe pushed and planned to get it done early and under budget.
Cadbury treats each project separately. However, they are linked by common elements.
Tragedy and setbacks touched each one. Thousands of men, usually poor laborers and sometimes children, were killed or injured to make these huge structures. They were beset by lack of financing, reluctance to try new methods and materials, bankrupt contractors, political opposition, corruption, greed, prejudice, and other human imperfections.
At their best, these engineers and their wonders are linked by the same qualities that appear in the best of engineering today. They had a vision to make people safer, healthier, richer, and freer. They created solutions to immense problems.
Robert Stevenson’s triumph at Bell Rock won the confidence of the Northern Lighthouse Board. It also launched an association between the Stevenson family and Scottish lighthouses that lasted four generations. During their tenures in the office of engineer for the board, Stevenson and his sons dominated the design, construction, and operation of the lights. Bella Bathurst tells their story in The Lighthouse Stevensons (New York: HarperCollins, 1999).
This book has its own kind of variety: technical, professional, and personal. It covers the construction and technology of several lighthouses, the masterpieces of Robert and his three sons. They not only built towers, but also improved their design and the design of the lamps, reflectors, optics, and mechanical systems that operated in them. One even studied the waves that assaulted their works.
It shows that engineering is more than simply design and construction. The Stevensons were also managers, fundraisers, businessmen, public servants, purchasing agents, manufacturers, contractors, and more. Their work included a broad section of what engineers do.
The book is also a biography of these four men that reveals the dynamics of the family. Robert insisted his sons join the family profession and business. Only one, David, seemed to take to it naturally. Only David’s sons filled the next generation of lighthouse Stevensons. Alan and Tom were more inclined to work in literature and the arts. Alan proved himself to be a capable engineer by building a 138-foot light at Skerryvore that could withstand the elements and exhibit a simple beauty. He became so disabled by disease, Bathurst suggests it was muscular sclerosis, that he gave up his work with the lighthouses. He managed to work irregularly as a writer. His works include and encyclopedia article on lighthouses and a translation of Greek poems. Tom shared Alan’s artistic leaning, but not his intensity and focus. He and David eventually divided the engineering work for the Northern Lights.
Not everyone is cut out to be an engineer, of course. As Robert Louis Stevenson said about his internship in the profession, “He is a wise youth, to be sure, who can balance one part of genuine life against two parts of drudgery between four walls and for the sake of one, manfully accept the other.” But some managed to catch what Marion Allen, a laborer on the Hoover Dam, called constructitis. “Sometimes one thinks he is cured,” said Allen, “only to have a relapse when he goes by fresh concrete or catches the smell of fresh sawdust from new lumber. Anyone with this affliction has to start construction of some kind, even of only to dig a hole and fill it up again.”
Order this book here.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)