This Won’t Take Long (Famous Last Words)
I’m an optimist by nature…
Especially about time.
I tend to believe things will take less time than they do, that future weeks will be calmer, and that I can squeeze in one more task before the next meeting.
(I’m usually wrong.)
My husband is not wired this way.
He’s a self-described realist who arrives early, doesn’t overschedule, and rarely assumes a day can hold more than it reasonably can.
We’re both capable adults living in the same house and yet, we experience time very differently.
For a long time, I chalked this up to personality.
But over time, I’ve started to notice something more specific.
Who My Other Time Optimists Are
Many of the brightest, most driven people I know are optimistic about time.
They genuinely believe next week will be lighter, that something won’t take that long, or that they can make it all work.
I see it in myself, and I see it in my clients. ESPECIALLY the ones with big ideas and even bigger hearts.
Optimism about time doesn’t feel reckless in the moment. It feels hopeful, capable, even generous.
Until it isn’t.
In practice, time optimism shows up as lots of initiatives started, frequent pivots, and very few clean finishes.
The negative impact is real.
The team is tired. Priorities feel slippery. And trust quietly erodes, not because people don’t care, but because delivery keeps getting harder.
The ideas and offers of help aren’t the issue…
The cost of carrying them all is.
What the Science Says
There’s actually a term for what’s happening here.
Psychologists call it the planning fallacy — our tendency to underestimate how long things will take and overestimate how much future capacity we’ll have.
What’s counterintuitive is who it shows up in most.
Not careless or disengaged people, but capable, optimistic ones!
Researchers have been studying this pattern for decades, noticing how consistently we assume future time will be calmer and more available than present time ever is.
If you’ve ever overcommitted and then quietly beaten yourself up when you couldn’t deliver, this is why.
It’s not that you’re undisciplined… it’s that you’re human.
The Price of Being A Time Optimist
I’m learning that optimism about time often pressures us.
It creates a private contract with ourselves — I should be able to do this — and when we can’t, the disappointment turns inward.
For leaders, that pressure ripples outward.
Teams feel it when commitments keep shifting, when “yes” is generous but unreliable, and when effort doesn’t consistently lead to completion.
How to Cure Time Optimism Blindness
This isn’t about planning better or squeezing harder.
It’s about setting boundaries that let realism in.
The real shift is this:
Stop asking “Can I fit this in?” and start asking “What will finish if I say yes?”
It’s about choosing fewer starts so finishes actually happen, and letting today’s limits inform tomorrow’s commitments.
Sometimes the most supportive move a leader can make isn’t adding one more thing they hope will fit.
It’s deciding what truly deserves to finish.
Optimism is still a strength. It just needs honesty to stay kind.
Takeaways:
- Things always take longer than you think.
- Capability isn’t the same as capacity.
- Just because you can do something doesn’t mean it deserves your yes.
- Fewer commitments build more trust than optimistic promises ever will.
From one time optimist to another,
Laurie