The Intensity Factor: How Theodore Roosevelt Achieved More

Some people possess superpowers. It's as if they can alter time and accomplish more than us normies. Or they can move at warp speed, performing tasks in a fraction of the time it takes the rest of us. 

Theodore Roosevelt was one of these people. He became America's youngest president at 42, having amassed a resume that included police commissioner of New York City and assistant secretary of the Navy. And let us remember his adventures as the leader of the Rough Riders in the Spanish-American War. That's enough for one lifetime, but Teddy also published over 40 books, pursued numerous hobbies, and was a well-respected naturalist.

How?

Author Cal Newport attributes Roosevelt's production knack to Deep Work, the title of his 2016 book on focusing in a distracted world. Newport was so impressed with Roosevelt's gift for focus that he used his first-year schedule at Harvard as a case study. To succeed at a rigorous school like Harvard, we assume students must always have their noses in a book. But Roosevelt had time to work out, read poetry, take dance lessons, and pursue his interest in nature. Still, he earned honor grades in most of his classes. 

Roosevelt didn't have to contend with beeping, pinging, and flashing technology, but he faced plenty of distractions. He wasn't superhuman. But he was super focused.

Newport explained that young Teddy began scheduling his days from 8:30 am to 4:30 pm. He'd remove class time and a lunch break and dedicate the remaining time to studying. But after 4:30 pm, his time was his. Compared to his peers, Roosevelt spent a small amount of time on his studies. The key to his success wasn't time; it was intensity. 

Reading about Roosevelt's laser focus inspired me to reconsider my work. Too often, I bounce between tasks, glance at my phone when the screen lights up, and alt-tab between windows to strike tasks off my list. This feels productive. But this is "shallow work," according to Cal Newport, and I can't disagree. 

It's not that responding to emails and completing minor tasks shouldn't be done, but we must defeat distractions to pursue meaningful work. Even writing this, I'm battling temptations to check my texts and email. What if a client is trying to reach me? What if something important is happening? What's going on in the markets? I'm so used to being interrupted that I'm anxious when I'm not. 

This attention affliction can be corrected, but only with effort. I'm not implementing all Newport's recommendations, but I am executing several key takeaways.

Redefine the Day

We often ask each other, "how was your day?" The odd part of this pleasantry is that question is frequently asked at 4 or 5 pm when the day is incomplete. This mentality has been prevalent for a while — Arnold Bennett wrote about it in his 1910 self-help book, "How to Live on 24 Hours a Day." Bennett said: 

The great and profound mistake which my typical man makes in regard to his day…(is) in looking upon those hours from ten to six as ‘the day’ to which the ten hours preceding them and the six hours following them are nothing but a prologue and epilogue.”

A lot has changed since the early 20th century, but we still need help managing our time. For many, once the workday is done, all that's left is to eat, watch television, check social media, and go to bed. But there's time for much more than that. Spending more time on hobbies that require focus can rewire our monkey brains and improve our focus. 

Embrace Boredom

I'm bad at being bored. As soon as there is nothing to do, I reach for the phone in my pocket. I know I'm not alone because when I'm standing in line at a store, we all stare down at our screens— it's no wonder chiropractic is a big business! In Deep Work, Newport advises the reader to embrace boredom and avoid switching to "high-stimuli/low-value" activities upon the first hint of boredom. 

Newport recommends time-blocking internet use, but a meditation practice I've developed over the last two years has been the most effective tool for existing without constant stimulation. When I started meditating, it was challenging to sit for a minute without becoming jittery, bored, and anxious — desperate for the session to end so I could get back to being entertained. Today, I regularly sit for much longer with inner calmness and peace. 

To master deep work and harness Roosevelt's intensity, we must learn to tolerate "the absence of novelty." Whether time-blocking distractions like the internet, t.v., and smartphones or developing a meditation practice, embracing boredom is essential. 

Focus on Lead Measures

The adage, "if you can't measure it, you can't improve it," might be an exaggeration, but there's a lot of truth to it nonetheless. There are two primary types of indicators, leading and lagging. You've likely heard these on the news as pundits attempt to predict inflation or GDP growth. When it comes to deep work, Newport recommends focusing on lead measures. 

A lag measure is what you are ultimately trying to achieve. A lead measure, on the other hand, "measures the new behaviors that will drive success on the lag measures." Newport, for example, used lag measures like the number of published papers per year until he realized a significant weakness: 

"These measures lacked influence on my day-to-day behavior because there was nothing I could do in the short term that could immediately generate a noticeable change to this long-term behavior."

The solution, he explained, was to measure success with lead measures. By tracking time spent in deep work, for example, every day became relevant. In short, set action-based goals instead of outcome-based goals, and you'll eventually find yourself at the finish line.

Beware the "Any Benefit" Approach

Our creativity knows no bounds when justifying our behaviors. Newport nailed one of the most convincing arguments we use to defend ourselves— the "any benefit" approach. 

It goes like this: I spend three hours mindlessly scrolling social media and watching algorithmically curated videos. I don't want to feel bad about this wasted time, so my justifying machine engages on my behalf. It quickly identifies "any possible benefit as sufficient justification." The defense presents a case like "I needed to relax," and I walk away unpunished, only to return the next time I'm slightly bored. 

Newport specifically warned of social media, which is "engineered to be addictive." But the any-benefit approach can justify any behavior by ignoring the negatives and opportunity costs.

We can't work deeply all the time. But deep work is rewarding and can set us apart in a world full of shallow work. My goal isn't to become a hermit who only works in isolation on large projects. But I don't want to be unable to focus for long periods on meaningful work. Like Roosevelt, I'd like to have time to pursue hobbies and curiosities while also generating valuable work. Since I can't activate a superhuman ability to focus, I'll have to develop one instead.