We've all been told about the virtues of hard work. The myth of meritocracy embedded in the ethos of the American Dream is strong, and we see it represented in many different ways. We, of course, know that hard work is important and often leads to one's own success and the success of others. We're told we need to put in the time to achieve our goals, and we often measure the value of something based on the amount of time spent on it. No one questions the majesty and beauty of the Sagrada Familia, for example. Gaudi's architectural vision is inspired, unique, and simply stunning. However, would it have the same mythology if it wasn't still unfinished, some 140 years later? Perhaps, but the length of the work has elevated it's story and value in immeasurable ways.
Now, I'm certainly not going to compare a research article, a work project, or an amateur painting to one of the most famous Basilicas in the world. However, it can serve as a reminder of the emphasis we place on the length and depth of our work as an indicator of value and excellence. Malcolm Gladwell famously elevated the 10,000 hours theory to international attention in his 2008 book Outliers: The Story of Success. The original theory, based on research by psychologist Anders Ericsson, tells us that 10,000 hours of dedicated practice in a particular field or discipline is sufficient to bring out the best in you. The theory itself has since been questioned. Ericsson himself points out that it's not just any time spent, but dedicated, deliberate time spent focusing on improvement. Results will vary. Talent matters.
Our definitions of "better", of course, are often quite arbitrary. Something may be a work of genius for one person may be seen as rather pedestrian for another. Those views are always shifting and evolving as the object itself interacts with a quickly changing societal structure. Think about how often works of art are not considered masterpieces until they are "rediscovered" long after the artist has passed. The work that artist put in was, at the time, not sufficient to achieve excellence in the eyes of others. Apparently their extra time in the ground allowed for their work to be dug up, dusted off, and lauded.
All of this is to say that creative work, which is most work, is subjectively judged based on a number of factors. When we create something, we are often led to believe we then need to spend time revising and reconsidering it. Most of our English writing assignments in school involved some sort of mandated editing or revising process. We were told that the first draft was a good start, but it could be improved with more time and effort. In some instances, that was indeed the case. In other instances, the first draft was the best draft. We didn't know that, of course, until we had gone through the subsequent iterations and realized we were most happy with where we started.
It's important that we resist the urge to think that more always equals better. I can make a point of arriving early and staying late at work, but if I'm not accomplishing anything extra, then there is no added value. Just ask Peter from the film Office Space. There will always be a balance between effort and excellence, but we'll make much better use of our time if we focus the end goal without assuming a certain number of hours or amount of work is necessary to achieve it.