Straight out of my MBA, I landed at MillerCoors as an associate brand manager. I was hungry, ambitious, ready to prove myself.
Early on, I was sent to a 2-day corporate training based on The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People by Stephen Covey. Most of the training blurred into white noise, but one insight snapped into sharp focus and never left me:
Efficiency gets in the way of connection. And connection is essential for success.
The irony?
I didn’t actually live that truth for another two decades.
“Work Kathy” became a machine. I optimized everything. Meetings, emails, decks. But I didn’t stop there. Efficiency crept into my personal life like an invasive weed. I calculated the quickest way to unload the dishwasher. I optimized my errand route.
My lowest efficiency moment? College.
I started drinking Yoplait yogurt in the shower to save time. Punch a straw through the foil lid, and boom: multitasking. I could nourish and cleanse simultaneously. Two birds. One very weird stone.
What I see now, and what I couldn’t see then, is this: Efficiency is a disease.
It starts small. Innocent. Logical. Just trying to help.
But give it an inch, and it rewires your brain.
Suddenly, everything becomes a task. A race. A metric to beat.
And worst of all?
The invasive weed of efficiency chokes the humanness out of life.
Because here’s the inconvenient truth: Humans aren’t efficient.
Relationships aren’t efficient.
Conversations aren’t efficient.
Vulnerability, trust, real rapport? Incredibly inefficient.
You can’t optimize your way to intimacy.
You can’t shortcut belonging.
And the most meaningful parts of life? They live in the mess, the slowness, the in-between.
They live in a slow morning with your partner, cuddling and enjoying a cup of coffee.
They live in a surprise conversation with a stranger while waiting in line at the DMV.
They live in a detour that makes no sense on paper but leaves you forever changed.
They live in a belly laugh that derails your schedule.
Efficiency has no room for serendipity.
No tolerance for surprise.
No patience for magic making.
And that’s the problem.
Because life is not a supply chain.
It’s not a spreadsheet.
It’s not meant to be squeezed for productivity like some overripe fruit.
Life is meant to be felt.
What I’ve learned, and am still learning (efficiency is a hard habit to kick!) is how to slow down enough to notice where I’ve made performance more important than presence.
To see where I’ve sacrificed connection for control.
To ask: What am I serving with this optimization? And what am I losing?
It’s not that efficiency is evil.
It’s just that it makes a terrible god.
It should serve your life, not consume it.
So these days, I’m choosing inefficiency more often.
I’m letting the morning run long.
I’m walking the dogs with no route in mind.
I’m pausing to talk to the person next to me in line.
Not because it’s productive, but because it’s alive.
Because connection is not a waste of time.
Connection is the point of living.
So if you’re feeling stretched thin, flat, or strangely disconnected, maybe it’s time to ask:
What have I optimized right out of my life?
And what would it feel like to let presence take the lead?
P.S. Ready to reclaim your life from the disease of efficiency? My coaching practice can support you in identifying where productivity is replacing connection. Learn more here.
