Urgent! Summary and key ideas

Urgent!, by Dermot Crowley.

Urgency is often used as if its meaning were obvious. Crowley defines it broadly as anything that requires swift action, whether or not it is important. A deadline drawing near can create urgency; so can the consequences of not acting, or another person’s insistence. The word therefore describes a demand for speed, but does not prove that the matter deserves priority or immediate attention. That distinction matters because workplaces can attach the same label to a critical issue and a routine request.

Urgency can be useful: in a brief, purposeful burst, it can overcome inertia, create traction, and move meaningful work forward. Crowley is not arguing for abandoning deadlines or slowing all work. He distinguishes a short acute period from chronic urgency, where high pressure lasts so long that it becomes normal and everything seems to need immediate action. The danger lies especially in that prolonged state: it consumes people even when the pressure is avoidable. The goal is to moderate urgency, applying it for a reason and keeping it within limits, rather than treating intensity as proof of effectiveness.

To make the contrast clear, Crowley names reactive, active, and inactive zones. The reactive zone pairs with acute urgency: too much intensity, or pressure that continues. The active zone is productive urgency: enough pressure to make progress, with room between pushes to recover. In the inactive zone urgency is absent, and movement can stall. That low-urgency state may also follow an exhausting spell of reactivity. Taken together, the zones show that the choice is not between a permanent rush and no pace at all. Work can move between levels, and the useful aim is the active middle.

His comparison between his father’s 1970s workday and modern work gives a sense of the changed tempo. As Crowley remembers it, his father seemed less busy: he kept a clear desk, took a lunch break, and generally worked from about nine to five. Crowley recalls fewer meetings and less email. He sets that memory against work where messages move immediately, colleagues can be connected across locations, and the ability to reach someone at almost any time can generate an expectation of a quick response. Technology, in his account, has helped accelerate business. He says its overall impact has been positive; acceleration itself is a reality, not automatically a harm.

But speed does not require permanent reactivity. Crowley also points to expectations in organizations: leaders may use urgency as a blunt instrument, or fail to notice its long-term effect. When people assume that each message or request should be handled at once, the faster pace becomes a shared norm. Individuals influence the pressure around them, but team practices and leadership expectations can reinforce it. This is why he treats urgency as a work-culture question as well as a personal experience.

Unnecessary pressure can make people busy without making work better. It pulls attention toward whatever seems loudest, so important work without an immediate deadline is pushed aside. Jumping among issues can waste time, cause mistakes, and require rework. The constant demand to respond can also make it harder to think clearly: Crowley links workplace anxiety with clouded thinking and reduced motivation. A short demanding spell may be manageable; when a team stays in high alert, stress and burnout become serious costs. These effects are not proof that every urgent request is bad, but they show why urgency needs to mean something.

At Medibank, Crowley observed an informal way of gauging whether urgency was sustainable: Medibank’s chief customer officer, David Koczkar, paid attention to how people behaved in the lift. This was not a formal measurement system. It made the pace of work visible through an ordinary sign of how people were moving through the day. The example reinforces the distinction between producing activity and maintaining a tempo people can sustain.

Crowley’s hike with his son on Lord Howe Island gives that lingering pressure a physical form. A steep guided climb and exposed cliff section left him anxious for hours. On a difficult return crossing, his panic rose again when he reached the ledge. His guide stayed with him and helped him get through. The episode shows how one intense challenge can leave someone on edge after the immediate task has passed, so a later challenge can trigger another spike. It is a personal story, but it illustrates why pressure does not always disappear the moment an urgent event ends.

At the same time, not all pressure can be planned away. Crowley notes that unforeseen situations arise, and in his COVID-era reflection he says ordinary workers could not have been expected to anticipate the crisis. People had to attend to urgent new problems and change priorities. He also hoped the disruption might make people question routines that left too little time for important work, including excess meetings, interruptions, and time spent reacting to low-priority matters. That possibility is a reason to reassess, not a claim that a crisis is welcome or that every urgent demand can be declined.

The model, then, is a case for control rather than elimination. A short, purposeful push can provide traction; a permanently reactive culture can undermine sound thinking, wellbeing, and important work. Since both personal habits and workplace expectations contribute, the book turns next to identifying where pressure comes from and later to ways of handling it. Its starting point is simple: the right amount of urgency helps work move, while pressure without a useful purpose should not become the normal pace.