To optimize something is to make it as efficient, rewarding and functional as possible. It is a term usually used in relation to machines, but it has now been turned into a full-fledged culture applied to our very bodies.
Productivity has evolved alongside Western society, planting its roots within our mindsets. Since industrialization, productivity has been the motor of Western society. As society has shifted, so has productivity, going from one form to another as different tools emerged, specifically new machines. This gives way to optimization, a sub-category of productivity. In this new era of technological advancement, optimization invites us to use technological tools, like watches, rings or apps, to track our daily activities and then optimize them. As with anything in life, discipline, self-control and set goals are perfectly fine in moderation, and in this sense optimization can be a helpful tool. However, optimization culture can be pushed to an extreme, and when that happens, it becomes an entire way of life instead of a tool, which can cause you to forget the original priority: your well-being. In this case, it may come to inhibit our ability to experience our lives. We become more focused on measuring the efficiency of our experiences rather than giving ourselves the opportunity to actually experience them.
Perfectionism plays a big role in optimization, and I learned this through my own experience with it. This year is my first year living in my own apartment. I began the semester hoping to optimize my life. It was a perfectly healthy goal: I wanted to use optimization as a tool to feel good about myself. I decided to meal prep high-protein oats and salad bowls. I vowed to go to the gym every day and to get up early in the morning and study. I realized that I stopped enjoying my workouts, my meals and even my downtime as I was never focused on the moments themselves but rather on how productive they were. As the days went by, what started out as an organizational tool took over my mindset and gave way to a series of strict rules. I delved into optimization to an extent that I would refuse to deviate from my routine, to maximise quality sleep, work and exercise, forcing myself to miss out on time with friends and family. This rhythm lasted no more than a week or two before it burnt me out. I was exhausted by the pressure I felt to make myself as efficient as possible.
When reflecting on this time, I realized that optimization culture can rely on perfectionism: once something is improved, it can be improved still. In the same way, once I had a good routine, I could create a better one where even less time is wasted and even more time is optimized. This created a mindset where I was constantly disappointed in myself as I never felt like I’d optimized enough. By insisting on perfecting my routine, I left myself no mental room to prioritize anything that did not contribute directly to it. My job was never finished: optimization became a continuous pursuit of improvement which never allowed me to be satisfied with any reached goal or completed task. I was so consumed by dissatisfaction that my daily activities were not experienced but scrutinized.
Technology also goes hand-in-hand with optimization culture. We are encouraged to optimize our daily tasks through different technological tools that are either on our phones or directly attached to our bodies at all times, like digital watches or OURA rings. These tools enable us to track different aspects of our daily activities. They can be effective tools to organize our days and make sure we fit in a good night’s sleep, some healthy exercise and a balanced meal, which are all important parts of a healthy life. However, if we excessively rely on these trackers, we can come to view and treat our bodies like machines that can be optimized. An over-reliance on bodily tracking devices can lead us to begin reducing our bodily activities to mere numbers and statistics, which changes how we relate to our bodies and can cause us to disconnect from them. We then stop relying on how our body feels through our connection to it and instead we determine such information through these external trackers. For example, when I was tracking my sleep, I would determine how I felt based on my sleep score and not how my body felt: if the number was mediocre I would consider the night wasted, even if my body felt well-rested. This changes how we experience our lives because digital trackers can fracture how we experience our bodily sensations.
So yes, optimization and the technological tools that come with it can help us build balance, sustainable routines and discipline. However, we have to be wary of the costs of an over-reliance on optimization. Measuring a meal based on how much protein it contains may rob you of experiencing how it tastes, or of appreciating the friends you’re eating with. If you go on a walk and constantly look at your watch to see if you’ve hit your goal of 10,000 steps, you’ll miss out on experiencing the autumn air and the turning leaves. It’s not about rejecting improvement, but making sure it doesn’t overpower experience. So, it’s great to make sure you get your steps in everyday, but it’s even better to do that while experiencing the walk, not just tracking it.
