Author: Peter G McDermott

Productivity is up. But so is burnout. GenAI may be helping us move faster—but at what cognitive cost?

What if productivity was the wrong prize?

GenAI promised to save us time—and it’s delivering. But instead of getting space to breathe, we’re just taking on more. More meetings. More tabs. More mental strain. The result? A knowledge workforce that’s overstretched, cognitively fried, and increasingly unsure whether they’re getting ahead or just staying afloat.

Generative AI was supposed to free us from drudgery—drafting emails, summarizing reports, debugging code—all in a fraction of the time it used to take. And indeed, many knowledge workers are now accomplishing more in less time than ever. But instead of lighter to-do lists, they’re often handed even more tasks to fill the gap. If AI helps us get more done, why does work keep expanding? From an executive’s perch, squeezing extra projects into the day sounds like productivity nirvana. Yet on the ground, this “do more with less” ethos may carry hidden costs: sloppy work, endless task-switching, mounting cognitive load, and exhausted employees. It begs the question – at what point do productivity gains backfire, and how do we recognize when a knowledge worker has reached critical mass?

GenAI’s Productivity Boom – and the Workload Paradox

Companies are eagerly embracing generative AI in hopes of efficiency gains. Early data is encouraging: A Thomson Reuters survey found the average knowledge worker expects AI to save about 4 hours per week, effectively “adding” a half-day of capacity. By 2030, those savings could triple to 12 hours a week. In theory, that means fewer late nights and breathing room for higher-level work. Indeed, over half of workers in one study said AI has improved their ability to do their jobs.

Ironically, however, many workers aren’t getting to relax – they’re getting busier. In a 2024 Wrike survey, employees reported their workloads have grown by 31% in the last year, and managers estimated it even higher at 46%. Much of this uptick comes from “workload creep” – as AI automates tasks, new responsibilities rush in to fill the void. Tech and finance employees, for example, have had to absorb duties from laid-off colleagues, leaving them “struggling under the weight” of expanded roles. Business leaders openly acknowledge raising the bar: 81% of executives admit they increased demands on workers in the past year.

This mindset is reinforced by recent headlines—from companies mandating AI training with expectations of immediate performance gains, to leaders slashing staff assuming AI can fill in. The message: do more, faster. As Harvard economist Lawrence Katz observed, “Things look like a speed-up for the knowledge worker. There is a sense that the employer can pile on more stuff.”

The High Cost of Constant Task-Switching

The human brain, unlike a computer, can’t truly multitask. When we try to juggle numerous tasks or rapidly switch between them, we pay a heavy cognitive penalty. Researchers call it context switching (rapidly shifting focus between tasks), and it quietly leeches our productivity, increases stress, and drains our energy. Every ding of a notification or shift from one project to another forces our brain to change gears. We might not notice it at first, but by day’s end many of us feel surprisingly exhausted “even if we feel we didn’t accomplish much.”

Studies show that the mental lag from interruptions is very real. On average, a person needs about 23 minutes to fully regain focus after a distraction. Think about that – a two-minute IM chat could cost you over twenty minutes of lost concentration. Multiply that by the dozens of pings, emails, and task swaps a typical worker experiences daily, and the hours evaporate. In fact, just three context switches in a day can sap an hour of effective work time. It’s no surprise, then, that people who frequently toggle between tasks suffer up to a 40% drop in productivity compared to those who focus on one at a time. As one analysis bluntly put it, switching tasks and “swapping between different assignments wastes a great deal of time,” contributing to an estimated $450 billion in lost productivity globally each year.

The damage isn’t just in output – quality takes a hit too. When our attention is scattered, mistakes multiply. A famous statistic attributed to journalist David Brooks drives this home: “A person who is interrupted while performing a task takes 50% more time to complete it and makes 50% more errors.” Sloppy work and overlooked details become inevitable when you’re constantly catching up to where you left off. In complex knowledge work, these errors can be costly – from code defects to strategic misjudgments – essentially erasing the gains of extra productivity.

Perhaps most concerning, chronic task-switching impairs our cognitive abilities over time. Neuroscientists have found that heavy multitaskers show statistically significant declines in working memory capacity. In one Stanford study, habitual multitaskers performed worse on memory tasks and had trouble filtering out irrelevant information. Other research shows multitasking can actually alter brain structure: frequent task-switchers had noticeably less gray matter in the brain’s attention-regulating region than those who focus deeply. In plain terms, the more we force our brains to constantly refocus, the worse we become at concentrating at all. It creates a self-reinforcing spiral: fragmented attention becomes a habit, making it even harder to sustain focus in the future.

What Leaders Can Do About It

It’s becoming clear that productivity isn’t just a technical equation of output per hour – it’s also a human equation of quality, creativity, and sustainability per hour. Generative AI can indeed unlock incredible efficiency. But unless we deliberately manage how that freed-up time is used, we risk falling into a trap where every minute saved is a minute filled with something else. The endgame of that approach is a workforce that’s perpetually “on,” mentally scattered, and nearing burnout – a far cry from the innovative, high-performing teams leaders envision.

To truly harness GenAI’s potential, organizations might need a mindset shift—and a moment of reflection: Are we empowering people, or just automating them into exhaustion? What would it look like to build a culture that values focus over frenzy, and sustainability over speed? from “Do more” to “Do better.” This means recognizing human cognitive limits and respecting them as we integrate AI. It might mean setting policies to discourage after-hours ping-pong just because AI made work 24/7 accessible, or training managers to distribute work in a way that balances speed with recovery time. Research and common sense both tell us that well-rested, focused employees produce higher-quality work than frazzled, overloaded ones. As one analysis noted, even short rest breaks during the workday help consolidate memory and restore motivation, ultimately boosting performance. In the AI era, protecting that mental recovery time may be more important than ever.

Leaders can support sustainable productivity by:

• Limiting context-switching and prioritizing deep work
• Clarifying “must-do” vs. “nice-to-have” projects
• Respecting digital boundaries and recovery time
• Tracking not just speed, but cognitive load

So here’s the real question:

What if the promise of GenAI isn’t just about doing more—but doing less, more meaningfully?

Maybe the future isn’t filled with more tasks. Maybe it’s filled with better ones.

Know someone drowning in ‘productivity’? Share this with your coworker, manager or anyone feeling pressure to do more with less.

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“There’s that word again… heavy.”
— Doc Brown

It’s been on my mind lately. Things feel heavy right now. Not just for individuals, but for a lot of us.

Some of that weight shows up in the people we work with. Caring for aging parents. Navigating loss. Juggling family needs. Trying to stay focused when the background noise of life just won’t let up.

And then there’s the stuff that’s harder to name. The geopolitical tension. The policy decisions that ripple through people’s lives. The low hum of uncertainty that never quite goes away.

Lately, that weight also includes the speed of change. AI. Automation. Entire workflows being redefined seemingly overnight. If you’ve ever felt like you’re sprinting just to stay in place—you’re not alone. It’s hard to feel grounded when the ground keeps shifting.

As a leader, I’ll be honest—I don’t always get it right. I’ve missed signs. I’ve moved too fast. I’ve asked for one more thing when I probably should’ve just asked how someone’s doing.

But I’m learning. Still. And what I keep coming back to is this: most people won’t tell you when things feel too heavy. They’ll keep showing up. Until they can’t.

That’s why psychological safety isn’t just a buzzword. It’s a practice. It means creating a space where people don’t have to pretend everything’s fine. Where they can exhale a little. And where they know the team will hold steady, even if they need a moment to fall back.

So I’m trying to pay closer attention. To give a little more room. To trust people to carry what they can, and to help lighten the load when they can’t.

Because whatever’s going on with Earth’s gravitational pull, it’s not just physics. Some days, it really does feel heavier out there.

#Leadership #Empathy #Resilience #TeamCare #BackToTheFuture #AI #WorkplaceChange

Elon Musk and the Department of Government Efficiency: A Case Study in Enshitification

Elon Musk loves to talk about inefficiency. He rails against “unelected bureaucrats,” mocks regulatory agencies, and champions his own brand of disruptive innovation. But here’s the twist: the Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE) does exist—just not in the way a government department normally would. Created through an executive order by President Trump, DOGE is a workaround, a patch, something operating outside the usual constitutional framework. It bypasses traditional governance structures, existing in a legal gray area where it can make sweeping changes without the same oversight that applies to other federal agencies. And at the center of it all? Musk—an unelected bureaucrat in every sense, wielding immense power while pretending to fight against it.

X as a Case Study in Musk’s Governance Philosophy

Musk’s transformation of X (formerly Twitter) offers the clearest example of how he applies his ideology to an institution. Under the guise of “efficiency,” he fired critical staff, dismantled content moderation, and changed platform rules on a whim—often reversing them just days later. The result? A site riddled with misinformation, advertiser flight, and a user experience that has steadily deteriorated. If X were a government agency, it would be in shambles, its infrastructure collapsing under the weight of impulsive decision-making and a disregard for expert input.

This is what enshitification looks like in real time: first, a platform (or institution) provides value. Then, it is optimized to extract maximum value for its owner. Finally, it degrades as short-term thinking undermines its core function. We’ve seen it happen with tech giants like Facebook and Amazon. Musk is simply accelerating the process. And now, he’s applying this same model to governance through DOGE.

The Irony of Musk’s War on Bureaucracy

Musk’s disdain for government oversight isn’t just ideological—it’s self-serving. He has benefited enormously from taxpayer-funded subsidies for Tesla and SpaceX, yet he repeatedly derides the institutions that made his success possible. He frames bureaucrats as obstacles to progress, but what he truly opposes is accountability. Unlike elected officials or career civil servants, who must answer to voters or governing bodies, Musk answers to no one. His role within DOGE allows him to make sweeping recommendations that impact federal operations, yet as a special government employee (SGE), he is only technically allowed to serve in this capacity for 130 days in a 365-day period. The limits are clear—yet the administration has still framed him as being “in charge” of DOGE, despite no legal framework granting him such power.

The Bigger Risk: Enshitification of Governance Itself

The danger isn’t just that Musk’s model degrades social media platforms—it’s that it represents a larger trend in governance. What happens when government agencies, public utilities, or entire regulatory frameworks are restructured in the Muskian mold? We’ve already seen glimpses of this philosophy in certain political movements that prioritize disruption over function, privatization over public good, and unchecked individual power over democratic processes. DOGE isn’t just an idea—it’s a real entity now, operating without the same constitutional grounding as traditional agencies. It represents an effort to erode government infrastructure under the guise of efficiency.

A government that operates like X—gutting oversight, prioritizing profit over people, and replacing expert leadership with impulsive decision-making—would be a disaster. The institutions Musk derides may not be perfect, but they exist for a reason. Bureaucracy, for all its flaws, provides stability. Stripping it down in the name of efficiency often leads to the opposite: dysfunction, exploitation, and eventual collapse.

What Can Be Done?

Recognizing the pattern is the first step. Enshitification thrives on complacency—whether in digital spaces or governance. When platforms degrade, users must push back. When oversight is stripped away from public institutions, citizens must demand accountability. The best response to those who promise efficiency by dismantling safeguards is to ask: Efficiency for whom? At what cost? And who benefits in the end?

DOGE is real, and it is happening now. Musk’s vision of efficiency is one of consolidation, not progress. If we don’t push back, we may wake up one day to find that enshitification isn’t just an internet phenomenon—it’s a blueprint for the future of governance itself.

At the very beginning of Hans Christian Andersen’s “The Most Incredible Thing,” we encounter a contest—a gathering where every participant proclaims they are capable of accomplishing the most incredible feat imaginable. In Andersen’s world, this contest is not just a call to action but a mirror reflecting our own culture’s relentless drive to outdo itself. Everyone, it seems, is hungry for the title of “incredible.”

This theme resonates loudly in our modern landscape. Consider the recent spectacle at CPAC, where Elon Musk, in an act of raw bravado, brandished a chainsaw. This wasn’t a mere display of recklessness—it was a vivid emblem of America’s perverse obsession with destruction. Like the contestants in Andersen’s tale, we are conditioned to believe that the most shocking act, the most explosive display, is the measure of greatness. From wrestling rings to monster trucks, MMA fights to the glorification of guns, our national narrative is steeped in the art of spectacle.

Yet Andersen’s story challenges this shallow pursuit. The contest he opens with isn’t simply about who can shout the loudest or wield the most dangerous tool—it’s a commentary on the human condition, on our belief that we are all capable of something truly incredible. And while many modern spectacles seem designed solely to incite awe and adrenaline, there is a deeper message here: that the incredible is not found in the act of destruction itself, but in what follows.

Musk’s chainsaw moment, for all its visceral shock value, fits into this broader cultural contest. It embodies the allure of immediate, unrestrained power—a power that our society often mistakes for progress. But just as Andersen’s tale invites us to look beyond the superficial declarations of ability, so too must we see that the true promise lies in the aftermath. The moment when the dust settles, when the debris of outdated systems is cleared away, there is space for a new order—a chance to rebuild with purpose and vision.

In the wake of what many see as a federal government in freefall—a true massacre of institutions and expectations—the call is not for more reckless displays. Instead, it is a call to redirect the energy of our cultural contest. Let us transform the raw, explosive force of spectacle into a deliberate movement for renewal. The incredible thing isn’t the act of destruction; it’s the rebirth that can follow when we channel our collective energies toward meaningful, thoughtful change.

This is our challenge: to reject the shallow lure of mere spectacle and to embrace the possibility of profound transformation. Just as Andersen’s tale begins with a contest where everyone claims to be capable of the incredible, so too does our society need to reassess what we consider “incredible.” If we can move past the obsession with destruction and harness that energy for genuine renewal, perhaps the most incredible thing is not the chainsaw moment at CPAC, but the rebirth that comes afterward.

Feel free to share your thoughts as we navigate this crossroads together.

✨ This post was co-written by Peter McDermott and ChatGPT.

In a world where Elon Musk’s actions seem to create a whirlwind of unrest, it’s easy to feel overwhelmed by the chaos. From his controversial decisions to his unpredictable tweets, Musk’s influence is undeniable. However, amidst this turbulence, I’ve found solace in focusing on what I can control.

One of the most empowering actions I’ve taken is reaching out to my senators and representatives. By calling their offices and voicing my concerns, I am actively participating in the democratic process. It’s a reminder that our government is meant to work for us, and it’s our responsibility to hold them accountable. If they don’t follow up, that’s on them. But at least I know I’ve done my part in advocating for my freedom and the rights of others.

Filing a complaint with the state’s attorney general is another step I’ve taken to ensure my voice is heard. It’s a way to address issues that matter to me and seek justice when necessary. This proactive approach has given me a sense of control and purpose, even when the world around me feels uncertain.

It’s important to remember that while we can’t control everything, we can still make a difference. Advocacy is not just about fighting for ourselves but also for those who cannot. By focusing on the certainties—our actions, our voices, and our rights—we can navigate the uncertainty with confidence and resilience.

In a world where fiction often serves as a cautionary mirror to reality, the dystopian universe of Silo and the modern political landscape reveal uncanny parallels. On one side, we have Bernard Holland, the “Head of IT”, a the character portrayed by Tim Robbins—a man who rises to command the very systems designed to protect society. On the other, influential figures in today’s technological and political arenas, such as Elon Musk, whose recent support for Trump raises concerns about the erosion of democratic safeguards. This blog post explores how, in both realms, the concentration of power and the subversion of institutional protections can lead to dangerous outcomes.

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The Dystopian World of Silo

In Silo, humanity is confined to an underground environment where every facet of life is strictly regulated. At the heart of this oppressive system is the head of IT—a role brought to life by Tim Robbins. In this narrative, his character is more than a bureaucratic enforcer; he is a master of the digital realm, manipulating and controlling the flow of information to serve an authoritarian agenda.

Dismantling Protections from Within
Within the silo, layers of safeguards were once in place to protect the populace from the harsh realities of the outside world. However, as Robbins’ character consolidates his power, he systematically dismantles these protections. His actions are not merely about maintaining order—they are about reshaping the very fabric of society. By undermining the checks and balances built into the silo’s design, he transforms the system into a tool for totalitarian control. In this fictional narrative, the dismantling of protections is both literal and symbolic: it signifies the erosion of individual freedoms and the triumph of centralized authority.

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Tim Robbins: The Architect of Digital Control

Tim Robbins’ portrayal is layered with the inherent dangers of a person who understands power as both a tool and a weapon. His character is emblematic of the broader warning that when someone with intimate knowledge of a system turns that system’s strengths into instruments of control, the consequences can be catastrophic.

A Calculated Transformation
Robbins’ character doesn’t simply enforce the rules—he transforms them. By taking control of the digital infrastructure, he turns the silo’s protections against the very people they were meant to safeguard. His rise is a dramatic illustration of how power can corrupt the very foundations of a society. The tale warns us that when those entrusted with oversight begin to manipulate information for their own ends, the line between protector and oppressor quickly vanishes.

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Elon Musk and the Modern Political Arena

Fast forward to today, and we see echoes of Silo in our real world. Elon Musk, a figure synonymous with technological innovation and disruption, has increasingly become a political actor. His public support for Trump has stirred debate and, for some, signals a concerning trend: the potential for influential figures to undermine democratic safeguards.

The Power of a Modern Titan
Musk’s influence is vast. As the head of groundbreaking companies and a frequent commentator on political and social issues, his words and actions carry significant weight. When a figure of his stature steps into the political arena—aligning with ideologies or political figures that many view as antithetical to the principles of accountability and transparency—it prompts a critical question: What happens when the powers that shape our digital and economic lives begin to dismantle the structures that ensure a balanced and fair society?

Dismantling Protections, Digitally and Politically
Much like Robbins’ character in Silo, Musk’s recent actions have raised alarms about the concentration of power. While the context is vastly different—a fictional silo versus a democratic society—the underlying concern is the same. When influential individuals use their platforms to support political movements or figures that challenge established democratic norms, it can set off a chain reaction. The resulting shift may not be as overt as the complete breakdown seen in dystopian fiction, but the incremental erosion of oversight and accountability can be just as dangerous.

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Parallels and Cautionary Lessons

Both Silo and today’s political dynamics offer stark reminders about the risks of unchecked authority:

1. Concentration of Power:
   In Silo, a single figure exploits his command over the digital infrastructure to reshape society. Similarly, in our modern world, when power becomes too concentrated—whether in the hands of tech magnates or political elites—the necessary balance provided by democratic oversight is jeopardized.
2. Control of Information:
   The silo’s leader manipulates information to keep the truth out of reach. Today, the control over digital platforms and media narratives is a battleground for power. When influential figures sway public discourse without sufficient accountability, the potential for misinformation and propaganda grows.
3. Erosion of Democratic Protections:
   The systematic dismantling of safeguards in Silo serves as a metaphor for what happens when democratic processes are ignored. When influential individuals bypass traditional channels of accountability, the fabric of society—built on transparency, accountability, and shared power—can begin to unravel.
4. A Call for Vigilance:
   Whether in dystopian fiction or modern political reality, the lesson remains clear: vigilance is essential. The dismantling of protections, be it in an underground silo or a modern democracy, leaves society vulnerable to authoritarian impulses and the erosion of personal freedoms.

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A Call to Action: Protecting Our World

While Silo remains a work of fiction, its themes are alarmingly resonant. The allegorical dismantling of societal protections by a central figure in the narrative mirrors the concerns many have about modern power dynamics. Elon Musk’s public political maneuvers—like his support for Trump—invite us to examine critically how influential figures can shape, or even subvert, the checks and balances that underpin a healthy democracy.

The tale of two worlds is not just about a dystopian future or a contentious political moment—it is a reminder that our freedoms and protections are hard-won and fragile. As citizens in a modern democracy, it is our responsibility to remain engaged, demand transparency, and ensure that power is not left unchecked, whether it emanates from a fictional silo or the boardrooms and political stages of today.

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Disclaimer:
The parallels drawn in this post are allegorical and intended to provoke thought and discussion. The interpretations presented here reflect a critical viewpoint and should be seen as one perspective among many in the broader discourse on power, control, and the preservation of democratic values.

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By examining these two worlds—the dystopian realm of Silo and the current political landscape—we are reminded that while the contexts may differ, the dangers of unchecked power and the dismantling of protections remain ever-present. Now, more than ever, it is crucial to safeguard the institutions that ensure accountability and to remain vigilant against any forces that threaten our collective freedoms.

///Written through multiple prompts with ChatGPT

Recent current events have me thinking a lot about the ‘enshitification’ of everything. The term was originally coined by author and blogger Cory Doctorow and describes the gradual decline in quality of online platforms and services as they prioritize profit over user experience. You may have read Seth Godin write about the “race to the bottom” years ago, and there are some significant parallels.

While AI and automation are so valuable in terms of scaling up, cutting costs, and doing things that wouldn’t be possible with manual processes, it’s incredibly important to monitor and audit the product of these systems.

This often appears in email marketing and automated messaging. Have you ever received a message starting with: ‘Dear [//Campaign Recipient]’ which was clearly missing some key elements?

Sometimes these simple oversights and “copy and paste” can lose context and add insult to injury.

Take for example, this automated e-mail message from a recruiter informing an applicant that they didn’t get the job they were hoping for. No rationale, no reason, no one to contact to get feedback. But, hey, connect with us on our socials!

This morning ALONE, I’ve had three other examples of this:

1. A reimbursement claim denied for the fourth time with no notes as to why following a phone call with someone who personally guaranteed me that I submitted all of the necessary information.

2. Prescription coverage denied for information that the insurer claims was missing but was included in the prescription.

3. An invitation to update my ESPP contribution rate with no hyperlink or instructions on how to do it. Once I arrived at the website, another alert reminding me of the deadline to do so with no instructions or links on where I could make the changes.

I think we can do better than this. I think we can hold ourselves accountable not to just revenue and profitability, but the mark we leave on humanity and the way that we make people *feel* through their interactions.

Whether as mundane as approval of a tuition reimbursement claim (don’t get me started on that) or as significant as a decision on employment or housing, having compassion for one another is what our society needs most.

We can do better. We must do better.

#Automation #CX #UX #EX

Using some of the latest AI tools available, I created a podcast episode talking about my appointment to a new role at Google. I’m almost convinced–where do I apply?