Should you stay productive while the world burns?
by Laurie Ruettimann
Should you stay productive while the world burns? This is not a rhetorical question. It’s a practical one. People are asking it quietly at their desks, on factory floors, in hospitals, and on Zoom calls with their cameras on and off.
Some days, staying productive looks like focused task management. Other days, it looks like survival.
Both can be true. And you are the only one who gets to decide which one applies to you today.
The case for staying in motion
People keep working for reasons that are not theoretical.
You need a paycheck. Rent does not pause for moral clarity. Groceries still cost money. Healthcare still runs through employers. (For now. Probably forever.) Solvency is not a personality flaw. It’s a prerequisite for everything else.
People rely on you. Coworkers, clients, patients, students, and customers depend on consistency. In unstable moments, reliability is a form of care. Sometimes the most radical thing you can do is show up and not make things worse.
A job worth doing is still worth doing well. Sloppy work creates more work, more risk, and more harm for people downstream. Professional detachment means caring about the right things at the right time.
Routine produces something useful. Predictable tasks can steady you when the news cycle is chaotic. Work can be a structure when everything else is collapsing. (This isn’t the same as using work to avoid your life. Know the difference.)
Heroes are broke. Broke people cannot donate to causes, fund mutual aid, or support people in their community if they don’t have a paycheck. Cash is leverage. It buys options. It gives you the ability to help others and the ability to leave later. Pay yourself first, financially and strategically.
Competence reduces burden. Doing your work well means your coworkers (who are also stretched thin) don’t have to clean up after you. In some roles, steady performance keeps people safe. That matters.
The case for slowing down
There is also a real case against grinding through.
Distraction affects output. When attention wanders or exhaustion sets in, quality drops. In some jobs, that’s not just inefficient. It’s dangerous. You cannot will yourself into focus. That is not how brains work.
Safety is not abstract. Fatigue and stress increase accidents, errors, and conflict. “Pushing through” increases the risk to you and everyone around you.
Values get compromised. Sometimes slowly. Sometimes all at once. You may find yourself doing work that no longer matches who you said you were. And your employer can compromise your values with or without your consent through urgency, silence, or business as usual.
Complicity is real. Through your job, you may be contributing to harm. Indirectly. Unintentionally.
Productivity becomes a loyalty test. Grief, hesitation, or dissent can be framed as unprofessional in some organizations. Silence gets rewarded. Over time, the unacceptable starts to look normal. (This is how it always happens. Gradually, then suddenly.)
Two questions that clarify fast
Run a premortem. Ask yourself:
Does this work keep people safe or keep me solvent?
If yes, staying productive makes sense. Not at full speed. At a pace that protects quality and judgment.
Is this work making me complicit in harm I cannot live with?
If yes, productivity is no longer the main decision. Boundaries, escalation, reassignment, or good old-fashioned exit planning become the real work. Start there.
What staying productive actually looks like right now
The best thing we can do is show restraint.
Imagine it with me: The day narrows to what actually matters. Everything else gets deprioritized. Let it. And anything irreversible slows down. Accuracy matters more than speed.
Then, work happens in smaller blocks. Breaks are not optional. Meetings get fewer and more deliberate. Urgency gives way to reliability. Loops get closed and never revisited. Things get written down and done ASAP. Rework gets reduced.
Through it all, values stop being abstract. You name the lines you will not cross. Some tasks stay on the table, but others don’t.
This is crucial: Time off is preventative, not indulgent. PTO gets used before you break, not after.
And at least one person at work knows how you feel because they feel it, too. Find that human being and hug them. They need it.
The language of restraint is simple
Here are some things you can say when you’re trying to determine your level of effort.
- “Yes, I can deliver this.”
- “I need more time to make this accurate.”
- “I can’t take on that assignment today.”
You don’t owe anyone a lofty explanation. Be brief, be competent, be done.
The uncomfortable part
Staying productive is not a moral failure. For many people, it is survival. And survival is not shameful, no matter what the internet says.
But productivity is not moral cover, either. It doesn’t erase complicity. It doesn’t prove you are one of the good ones. If you’re participating in a system that harms others, you can acknowledge it without flagellating yourself over it.
The goals for staying safe and employed in turbulent times are to maintain regulated effort, establish clear boundaries, and have an ongoing dialogue with yourself that includes an honest assessment of when the cost becomes too high.
Figure out the line you won’t cross. Write it down. Tell someone. And when you hit it, act. That’s the work.
I write about work, money, and knowing when to leave your job. Subscribe to my newsletter.