I Know What to Do So Why Don't I Do It? Summary and key ideas

I Know What to Do So Why Don't I Do It?, by Nick Hall.

Most people can name something they intend to do and keep postponing. Hall argues that this is often not a simple failure of scheduling or a sign of laziness. Delay can offer temporary relief from feelings stirred up by a task: boredom, resentment, worry about having the right skills, fear of failure, or concern about being judged. The task remains, but putting it off briefly postpones the discomfort of facing it.

That relief can come at a cost. A deadline draws closer, reminders return, and worry about late or disappointing work can grow. The extra stress may make starting feel even harder. Hall’s point is not that every delay has the same cause, but that calling it a time-management problem can miss the emotion that keeps the person from beginning.

He also makes an important distinction: a delayed start is not automatically procrastination. Sometimes time away from a task is useful reflection. Hall describes putting off grant applications while cycling or kayaking, using that time to think through an uncertain research proposal and how to make its case. When he sat down to write, the argument was clearer, and the writing and related experiments moved faster.

Hall describes a separate episode from his doctoral training. His adviser often chastised him for sailing in the Florida Keys with his wife over long weekends or disappearing for a week or more while his classmates worked in labs. But the adviser never stopped him, knowing Hall was extremely productive when he was at work. Over those four years, Hall generated more publications than many students who never took a break.

The difference is what the delay is doing. Reflection may help a person make a decision, see a problem more clearly, or prepare an argument. Avoidance mainly postpones contact with something distressing, without helping the task become more manageable. Hall’s account does not make every recreational break productive; it shows why the calendar alone cannot tell us whether a pause is useful. It matters whether thought and preparation are taking place, and whether they help the work advance when the person returns.

Once people begin, they may find that a task takes less time than they expected. Hall says he and his clients have experienced this with delayed projects. That does not mean every task will be quick or easy. It helps explain why the first step can loom so large: the effort required to start includes not only the task itself, but also the feelings the task brings up. Last-minute pressure may eventually force a start, but Hall says adrenaline-driven work can bring fatigue and anxiety and may not reflect a person’s best effort.

To understand what might draw you toward a task, Hall suggests remembering a goal you once pursued with energy. His own example comes from playing trumpet as a boy. He enjoyed music and competition, but after moving, he discovered that first-chair positions went to senior students regardless of ability. Seeing little prospect of competing, he left the band. Looking back, he concluded that music was not the whole reward: competition and the nervous excitement around it had also mattered to him.

The point of recalling an earlier pursuit is to find the reward that actually energized you, rather than assume what should have motivated you. Ask what you were aiming for, what felt satisfying or exciting, and what kept you returning to the effort. Then consider whether some part of that reward could connect to a current goal. Link it to a manageable first step, so beginning has something personally meaningful attached to it. The old reward need not fit the new goal exactly; the exercise is a way to discover what may make action feel worth starting.

Hall describes motivation as a tug-of-war. Anticipated satisfaction can pull a person toward action, while unpleasant feelings or a more attractive alternative can pull them away. A task may seem worthwhile in principle and still lose out in the moment if its discomfort feels immediate and its reward feels distant. Understanding this tension shifts the question from “Why can’t I just do it?” to “What am I avoiding, and what would make this action matter to me?”

That is why lists, reminders, color coding, and dividing work into parts cannot create motivation by themselves. Hall sees those tools as ways to make work more efficient, not as a complete answer to difficulty starting. They may help organize a task once a person is ready to engage with it, but they do not necessarily change what makes the task emotionally difficult. A plan can be orderly and still leave the central barrier untouched.

Finally, Hall cautions against expecting motivation to be immediately available after demanding effort. He compares motivation and willpower to muscles that can tire: after a difficult push, a person may need time to recover before taking on another complex task. The length of that pause can vary with the effort involved. When circumstances allow, leaving room for recovery instead of stacking one demanding responsibility on another may make renewed effort more realistic. His opening framework is therefore not simply to push harder: notice what delay relieves, distinguish preparation from avoidance, find a reward that matters, and recognize when effort needs replenishing.