Burnout & the Self-Torture Problem

The problem with burnout isn’t what you might think.

The fatigue is difficult, as is dipping in and out of despondency (and the accompanying existential angst). But the truly difficult thing about it is this:

You never know when it will hit you.

It comes in surprise attacks.

You simply never know which particular extension will trigger its onset. One day you’re juggling work, and kids, perhaps a bit of study, maybe you’re even trying to keep the remnants of a social life working—and the next minute: BAM. You’re stuck in some kind of Dorito-dust fuelled state of couch-depression, your body no longer able to function properly and your mind feeling like scrambled eggs.

(too specific?)

There is an old thought experiment called the self-torturer problem. It goes something like this: suppose you agree to put on a device that tortures you in very small increments. The increases are so tiny that, on their own, they are imperceptible. You have a dial that increases the pain. You can turn the dial up only one notch each day, but you can never turn it down. For each notch you increase, you receive ten thousand dollars.

An imperceptible increase in pain for ten-thousand dollars? I know very few people who wouldn’t at least entertain the idea.

The thought experiment goes on, however. One day you turn up the dial and throw yourself into a world of pain. The compounding effect of all the little increases has caught up with you and now you feel the pain acutely but can’t wind the dial back.

Now you’re stuck.

I think the experiment is a helpful way to think about burnout, or the juggle of our endless priorities more broadly. The purpose of the problem is to test things like rationality and decision-making. I mean, of course it is rational to turn the dial up—at least for a while, because the payoff is worth it.

In the same way that over-extending ourselves in life and work can often feel, in the moment, worth it.

If I can just get through this hectic season…

Just one more all-nighter…

It will all be worth it in the end…

But then we hit a wall, at a hundred miles an hour (and proceed to blame the wall).

All those little decisions to continue working, set aside rest, keep going, push through, suck it up—they can, if we’re not careful lead us to a place that is very hard to get out of: burnout.

Of course, in life and work resilience is important, as is pushing through and overcoming. The problem, as I said above, is that when we look at our energy and wellbeing over a stretch of time it’s genuinely hard to know what our limitations are. Individual decisions to prioritise a work project over our need for rest might pay dividends at the time, but to keep turning that dial ever-upward puts us in ever greater danger of hitting that wall.

This overly hyperbolic language—and the specificity of the Dorito dust analogy—might have you worried about me. No fear. The last few months have been some of the most exhausting I’ve faced in a long time, but I am managing. The feeling of being exhausted so consistently however, is what got me musing about burnout in general.

Hence why you’ve got this ponderous essay.

Whilst I don’t feel quite like I’ve hit burnout, I have become quite conscious of the fact that the last few years have had me turning that dial up continually, and neglectfully.

Straddling solo-parenting, full-time work, the completion of a law degree and the acquisition of a business—not to mention the absolutely relentless grind of packing school lunches every day—has gotten me considering where my own limitation might be.

Where is the limit? I actually don’t want to know.

The problem with the self-torturer thought experiment is that once you hit the point of excruciating pain, turning the dial up is still the most rational decision you can make. Because those turns are imperceptible in the moment, the payoff each day is still logically worth it. In philosophical terms it’s remarkably similar to the sunk-cost fallacy (the idea that “we’ve come this far we may as well keep going, otherwise it will all have been for nothing!”)

It’s only when you look at a problem across its entire lifespan that you begin to see the lunacy of it all.

Our energy is finite,

Our bodies are not immortal,

Our minds, and hearts, need time to recalibrate and rest.

What genuinely brings us back to ourselves as humans is quite predictable. Connection with other people, a sense of meaning and purpose, rest, being out in nature, serving others. All life-giving things that get sidelined all too easily as we run on the treadmill of our everyday lives.

I don’t think work is bad: far from it. I love working hard. Nor is the relentless pursuit of greatness, or expertise. I want people to work hard, be resilient, and attempt to accomplish unfathomable things. I want these things for myself too. But I want to do it without severing the connection to myself, or the people around me.

I want to do it with a full heart, and a sound mind.

Luckily, the way to short-circuit the thought experiment is quite easy. You can set yourself reasonable limits (I’m only going to do it for 10 days) or make your friends hold you accountable to some pre-determined goal. You can also realise there are other ways to make money, that probably won’t require you to torture yourself.

Bringing it back to our own lives, it’s important for us to look at our decisions collectively, not just in isolation.

Yes, there are times when we need to over-extend to get something done. I don’t regret my decisions to study and work so much because there was something I wanted to accomplish—but I knew it couldn’t be for long. There was a deadline.

Looking at our lives as a whole enables us to think about building in rest, prioritising relationships, accomplishing things that are meaningful to us.

Abraham Lincoln is often attributed with the following quote:

If I had six hours to cut down a tree, I’d spend the first four sharpening the axe.

I don’t know what it would like for you to take some time out to sharpen your axe. But if you want to keep going, then I’d say it’s going to be pretty important.

So, stop torturing yourself so much.