I
have
a
confession.
I’m
currently
writing
this
article at 10:32 a.m., roughly
an hour and a half before
it is due. I and other serial
procrastinators are aware that
this vice is preventable, but it’s
largely out of our hands.
Popular “to-do” list platforms
such
as
Google
Calendar,
Notion and Monday.com try
to
outcompete
each
other
for the best innovations in
organizational
features
and
gadgets.
Ultimately,
these
services
are
spectacularly
underwhelming
at
fighting
procrastination because they
hinge on the assumption that
routine procrastinators have the
foresight to schedule and triage
tasks properly. The premise
that physical bullet points or
reminders of deadlines will
motivate serial procrastinators
lacks a deeper understanding
of procrastination, which is,
at its core, about aversion and
delaying responsibility.
Experts
in
the
field
of
psychology
define
procrastination as the “voluntary
delay of some important task that
we intend to do, despite knowing
that we’ll suffer as a result.”
The frontal lobe of our brains,
the primary decision-making
hub for the guilt, anxiety and
stress that accompany the act of
procrastination, is exceptional
at perpetuating a feedback loop
that takes us into -crastinus, the
Latin phrase for “of tomorrow”
and the basis of procrastination’s
etymology.
Throughout the development
of
various
psychological
and philosophical schools of
thought,
procrastination
has
toggled between an act of
being unable to manage time
and an act of unregulated
emotions. When the all-too-
familiar (and procrastination-
inviting) 11:59:59 p.m. deadline
notification makes its way to the
top of your Canvas feed, perhaps
a mixture of the two ensues in
addition to the development of
bad habits. In a landmark study
during the late ’90s, researchers
began to piece together that a
positive
correlation
between
plagiarism, dishonesty and self-
ratings of procrastination exists,
for example.
However,
in
2023
procrastination
should
no
longer be considered a failure
of
self-regulation.
New
technological tools have ushered
in a new mindset — particularly
among young adults — that
fundamentally alters the ways
college students can finagle
tasks. Now, we have ChatGPT
for essays, Chegg instead of
office hours, Amazon next-day
shipping for gift giving, Venmo
to exchange or deposit money
and more.
In
other
words,
our
responsibilities don’t have to
be our responsibilities anymore
because the option to pawn
them off to a growing number
(a swath, even) of apps and
websites exists. In fact, the
same type of phenomena still
persists in the workplace, during
group projects and in any kind
of collaborative setting: If you
avoid carrying your weight long
enough, someone else will pick
up your slack.
The discourse surrounding
digitization, automation and all
the other -ation buzzwords that
describe the ease at which other
people, goods or services can
accomplish our tasks has always
fixated on the potential loss
of jobs. Since entire countries
that were previously reliant on
human labor to assemble cars,
package foods and ship products
now experience new records of
unemployment, it makes sense
that focus has never been placed
on the unfortunate side effects of
these trends for college students.
But, it is truly a travesty
that serial procrastinators like
myself no longer recognize our
habit of procrastination in the
moment. The safety net offered
by technology is simply too
enticing; not only can ChatGPT
do my homework, but such
automation can, in fact, take
the pain away from writing my
essays and crossing my Punnett
squares
altogether.
Students
are
now
more
comfortable
with waiting until the nth hour
because, deep down, their work
isn’t really theirs anymore.
Remedies advertised to “fix”
procrastination
are
obsolete
because the negative feelings
that should accompany the act
of avoiding tasks are no longer
present.
Elaborate
reward
systems such as the popular
Forest app, which plants a real
tree for time spent studying,
are
less
effective
because
they reward others for our
effort, not us — this does little
to forge long term habits, no
matter how altruistic. Sure,
I can try journaling, starting
my work earlier or letting
a Pomodoro clock run, but
common productivity strategies
fail to recognize that in the
end I no longer have to finish
what I start — my apps will.
The
ideal
environment
for
serial procrastinators to find
their productivity groove is
made more unattainable amid
the constant advertisement of
products and services that seek
to deplete the little motivation
we have left.
In an interview with The
Michigan Daily, Dr. Anis Ismail,
a physician and postdoctoral
research fellow at the University
of Michigan discussed these
habits. “When I was in medical
school, what kept me motivated
to hit the books was that I’d
be ultimately responsible for
others’ wellbeing in the future,”
Ismail said. “If there comes a
time when a significant aspect
of the physician’s role is now
on technology to diagnose and
treat patients, I don’t think
future medical students will
be as compelled to make sure
they have a breadth of medical
knowledge memorized.”
The only foreseeable cure
to serial procrastination in the
Western world is completely
disengaging from our devices.
But, that’s neither practical
nor
efficient.
We
serial
procrastinators
are
sort
of
in a catch-22. When the next
“guaranteed”
and
“science-
based” productivity software or
service appears on the market,
it will only contribute to the
narrative that procrastination
can be fixed with buttons and
clicks — the things that got us
into this mess to begin with!
F
ormula 1 drivers are
often heralded as the
20 best drivers in the
world. This is wrong. The 20
best drivers don’t drive F1 cars.
They aren’t behind the wheel
of an LMP1 hypercar snarling
down the back straight of Le
Mans, nor are they rounding
the banked turns of Daytona or
Indianapolis in Target-branded
stock cars. In fact, most aren’t
behind a wheel at all. Money
has blocked the paths of many
talented drivers for decades
now, and the effects aren’t just
felt by those who lost out on a
seat. Racing fans suffer as well.
The
financial
obstacles
that a driver must navigate
in order to get a seat in any
championship are more like
dams: Only a few with enough
money trickle through into the
next championship. It starts
in karting, F1’s equivalent to
little league, where European
parents can spend exorbitant
amounts of money to have
their child race each weekend.
Although the amount can be
lessened
by
sponsorships,
racers and their families can
pay up to $2 million to compete
over a multi-year period. And,
if they intend to keep racing,
the money will only have to
continue flowing: $500,000
in Formula 4, $1 million in
Formula 3 and $3 million in
Formula 2 are the conservative
estimates. It’s no wonder many
of the sponsorless drivers are
sardonically referred to as “pay
drivers.”
Former F1 driver Nicholas
Latifi
is
a
quintessential
example of this type of driver;
he has a $1.2 million yearly
contract, but his father’s net
worth is estimated to be $2
billion, and his father paid
his former team $30 million a
year while Latifi was driving
in order to keep him in the car.
He finished third to last in the
2020 and 2022 seasons among
full-time drivers.
Latifi was not a competitive
driver; he was only there
because his family had the
financial wherewithal to usher
him through. This isn’t only a
problem for drivers who should
have been in his seat, but for
those watching at home as
well. It’s unenjoyable to watch
drivers who aren’t talented
crash expensive rocket ships
into tire barriers over and over
again.
It’s clear that pay drivers
don’t
consistently
foster
competitive
racing.
Among
previous
Formula
1
World
Drivers’
Championship
winners,
many
came
from
humble beginnings. Fernando
Alonso,
Jenson
Button,
Sebastian Vettel and Lewis
Hamilton all grew up in lower-
class families. It’s not difficult
to see that racing is made
better when it is between those
who are genuinely talented
as opposed to those who are
simply rich, but we often forget
the quality of racing that we
miss out on under the current,
pay-to-drive system.
Furthermore, these paywalls
aren’t restricted to the highest
levels of racing, nor are they
only found across the pond.
The
recent
WeatherTech-
sponsored Rolex 24, a multi-
class 24-hour race in Daytona,
Fla., featured multiple drivers
with deep pockets. The only
difference between the end
of January’s endurance race
and last year’s F1 season was
that the American pay drivers
appeared to drive well.
George
Kurtz,
owner
and
CEO
of
cybersecurity
behemoth Crowdstrike, was
one of four drivers to pilot
their hypercar in a valiant but
heartbreaking
second-place
effort. Cooper MacNeil, son
of WeatherTech CEO David
MacNeil,
won
his
class’s
race. Upon closer inspection,
however, we see that both
drivers put in the slowest lap
times among their teammates;
neither
pay
driver
was
anywhere close to the times put
up by other drivers in the same
car. The racing these two men
displayed just wasn’t as good
as it could have been; it made
for less competitive teams and
thus a less interesting race.
The
underlying
problem
is
that
the
barriers
are
normalized. Of course, drivers
and executives condemn the
issue, but there’s an implied
assumption
that
these
financial obstacles are baked
into the fabric of modern
racing. Talking about costs in
lower levels of racing, F2 CEO
Bruno Michel tells racefans.
net, “Costs are more or less
the same that they were 20
years ago in European Formula
3. … We’ve done everything
that we could over the last 15
or 20 years to keep the costs
down.” While it’s tough to
come to a definitive, statistical
conclusion
regarding
cost
changes over the past decades,
drivers who have shoved their
way through the system have
spoken out about how the
situation has worsened.
“If I had to start over from a
working class family, it would
be impossible for me to be here
today.” Hamilton, a seven-time
world champion, said to AS,
a Spanish online newspaper
covering sports, “because the
other guys would have so much
more money.” Hamilton, whose
journey to the pinnacle of
motorsport has been told many
times, notably did not come
from a rich family; his father
worked multiple jobs to fund
his early karting career before
he earned sponsorships from
McLaren. He is all too familiar
with the financial hardships
that
accompany
a
racing
career. His voice, in direct
opposition to Michel’s, paints
an unfortunate picture of the
dichotomy between what those
in charge believe and what is
actually happening behind the
wheel.
It is a truth of nature that
racing fast cars is expensive.
Paying for damage insurance,
qualified
engineers,
angry
engines
and
complex
aero
packages is inherently a pricey
endeavor. You can’t just go
around handing out Porsche
911s to any kid with fast times
at their local go-kart track, and
it would be incredibly difficult
to permanently separate these
costs from driving in any
championship. One possible
answer
could
be
assisting
individual drivers in earning
sponsorships that would pay
for (or at least alleviate the
cost of) seats. As of now, only
the greatest karting drivers
receive
enough
sponsorship
money to advance up the
racing ladder. Providing funds
and sponsorship education to
a larger group of racers would
do a lot to combat this issue in
both the immediate and long
term.
This
seemingly
utopian,
meritocratic
dream
where
only the best drivers get seats
is a reality in other realms,
like esports, which provides
a lower-cost alternative to
in-person racing. The recent F1
Esports season was extremely
competitive, with one round
featuring a gap of only 0.2
seconds between the first and
last driver. The races were
therefore more enjoyable to
watch. The driving was tight,
each win felt earned and there
were no races where one driver
fled the pack and ended up
even seconds away from the
drivers behind them.
And, there are indications
that
esports
ability
can
translate to a real car. In the
recent Race of Champions, an
amateur event between former
and current racing celebrities
in the snow-laden forests of
northern Sweden, F1 esports
champion
Lucas
Blakeley
faced off against two-time
F1 champion Mika Häkkinen
and current F1 Alfa Romeo
driver Valterri Bottas. He beat
them both. Blakeley’s talent is
evident, and yet the 21-year-old
will likely never see an F3 seat,
much less F2 or F1. It’s time for
that to change.
Educational and financial
resources can and should be
provided to those who have
been left out of the paddock
for decades. The perpetuity of
these financial barriers creates
an exclusivity that worsens
over time, and, in chipping away
at these barriers’ strength, car
racing of all disciplines won’t
only be more equitable for
future generations’ drivers. It
will be better to watch.
Opinion
No, there isn’t a cure to
serial procrastination
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
9 — Wednesday, March 8, 2023
Ask a child to draw a car, and
certainly they will draw it green
MOSES NELAPUDI
Opinion Columnist
LUCAS SZENTGYORGYI
Opinion Columnist
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