Early in my career, I was a passionate multitasker. Everything was “multi” back then — multimedia, multicultural, you name it. Computers were painfully slow. While one booted up, you could stroll to the kitchen, have a chat, pop out for groceries, and return to find your machine — we called them “Rechner” then — finally ready.
The processors were weak. They couldn’t handle much simultaneously. Neither could the software — there wasn’t much that demanded it. But I could. I could blast music, chat with colleagues, and write an article all at once. I could juggle apples, sip water, munch gummy bears, and edit text. All simultaneously. I was proud of this ability.
Looking back now, I have my doubts about the actual quality of that work.
Multitasking was Mount Olympus
In the early 90s, multitasking was the holy grail. If you could juggle multiple things at once, you were quick, flexible in mind and action. Only now do I know that people were already studying the costs of multitasking — the “context switching” penalty. Computer scientist and psychologist Gerald Weinberg found in 1992 that constantly switching between projects and tasks creates waste: about 20 percent per project.
This observation still holds. Here’s why: imagine you’re deep in one project, fully immersed, knowing exactly what comes next. Then your boss arrives with an urgent task from a completely different domain. You need to mentally switch gears, recalibrate, find your bearings. And since you’re not a machine, this takes time.
How do you handle interruptions?
You probably know this scenario. You’re thinking deeply about something complex. Your three-year-old daughter walks into your office, proudly displaying her latest artwork. You glance over, trying to hold onto your last thought while simultaneously focusing on the here and now with your daughter.
Neither works. Your daughter feels dismissed, and your thought vanishes.
I once read it takes 23 minutes to return to deep concentration after a brief interruption. I use this as my excuse for not even starting to think deeply — working from home, I rarely get more than 20 minutes of uninterrupted time anyway. Different topic though.
What I know for certain: the result is always better when I’ve worked on just one thing, not tried to deflect multiple tasks like some productivity ninja. When I’m in defensive mode against “evil tasks,” I invest less concentration and enthusiasm. The result disappoints even me.
Must a monotasker also be a mono-projecter?
For at least ten years, I’ve retrained myself to be a monotasker. I work in two-hour blocks with Pomodoro timer breaks. During these blocks, I answer neither phone nor emails. This works brilliantly (except during homeschooling chaos).
But how many projects from how many clients should I take on? This question keeps tripping me up.
I’ve experimented with batching similar tasks across different projects — a concentrated writing day for various articles, an afternoon of phone calls for research and coordination across multiple jobs, a conceptual thinking day. Sounds productive and efficient, but I need variety. I can only concentrate intensely for a few hours before needing something lighter. I need to leave the thinking space occasionally, either by moving to a different physical room or stepping outside entirely. I can’t and won’t sit all day — I need movement.
Three projects with monotasking
One massive, time-consuming project is lucrative, but dangerous for freelancers. When it ends, you’re back to hunting for new clients. I’ve always done well with roughly three concurrent projects. Often they’re in different phases anyway. While waiting for feedback on one, I can work on tasks in another. That’s multitasking of sorts, but it works. The key is having a good system to keep all tasks on your radar.
I’ve used my own Kanban board for years. For my personal projects, I naturally use Scrum. But that’s getting too deep into the weeds — perhaps I’ll write about that soon.
From the archives of reinergaertner.de, running since 1997. Translated with AI help and my questionable bilingual proofreading. If you spot a Germanismus — that’s a feature, not a bug.