False Urgency Is A Manufactured Fear: How To Reclaim Strategic Thinking

Lesson 10 of 25 from podcast conversations with leaders who leave the world better than they found it

I started my podcast because I love having deep, wandering conversations with curious people. The kind of talk where you lose track of time because ideas are connecting in interesting ways.

For the first few episodes, that's exactly what it was. Pure joy. No pressure. Just genuine curiosity about people's journeys and what shapes them.

Then I launched publicly.

And something shifted.

Suddenly, the thing I'd been doing for pleasure felt frantic. I needed to record more episodes. Edit faster. Promote better. Build audience. The timeline I'd given myself felt crushing even though I was the one who created it.

The urgency wasn't real. It was a story I told myself about what success required.

And I see this same manufactured urgency everywhere in mission-driven work.

The Culture of Manufactured Urgency

Mission-driven organizations operate in a constant state of crisis.

The grant deadline is next week. The program launch is next month. The report is due. The meeting can't wait. Everything is urgent. Everything is important. Everything needs to happen now.

And when everything is urgent, nothing actually is.

Here's what manufactured urgency looks like:

Confusing activity with progress. We're busy, therefore we must be productive. We're moving fast, therefore we must be getting somewhere.

Treating every deadline as real. That grant application deadline? Maybe you shouldn't apply. That meeting request? Maybe it can wait. That opportunity? Maybe it's not for you. But urgency culture doesn't allow those questions.

Operating from scarcity. If we don't move now, we'll miss our chance. If we don't say yes, someone else will. If we don't act fast, we'll be left behind.

Mistaking fast for strategic. Quick decisions feel decisive. Rapid movement feels like progress. But speed without direction is just activity.

The cost of this culture is real: burnout, shallow thinking, reactive decision-making, initiatives that start with excitement and fade when the next urgent thing appears.

How To Tell Real Urgency From Manufactured

Not all urgency is false. Sometimes things genuinely need to happen quickly.

A crisis emerges. A deadline is real and important. A window of opportunity is closing.

But most urgency is manufactured. Here's how to tell the difference:

Real urgency: There are actual consequences to delay that align with your strategic priorities.

Manufactured urgency: Someone decided this arbitrary timeline, and we're treating it as sacrosanct even though missing it doesn't actually matter.

Real urgency: The timing is driven by external factors you don't control.

Manufactured urgency: We created the deadline ourselves and could change it if we wanted to.

Real urgency: Acting quickly genuinely serves the mission.

Manufactured urgency: Acting quickly serves activity theater or someone's need to feel productive.

The Five-Initiative Audit

Here's an exercise that will reveal how much of your urgency is manufactured:

List your top five "urgent" initiatives right now. The things that feel like they must happen soon. The projects where everyone's stressed about timeline. The commitments that are driving pace.

For each one, ask: What would happen if we paused this for a month?

Not canceled it. Just paused. Put it on hold. Came back to it in 30 days.

Be honest about the consequences.

Would you lose funding? Probably not—most funders care more about outcomes than speed.

Would you miss a critical window? Possibly, but how critical is it really?

Would you disappoint stakeholders? Maybe, but would they understand if you explained you're prioritizing quality over pace?

Would the world end? Almost certainly not.

Whatever survives the "one month pause" test is genuinely urgent. Everything else is manufactured.

And I'd bet at least three of your five urgent initiatives would be fine with a pause. You just haven't given yourself permission to slow down.

Why We Manufacture Urgency

If manufactured urgency is costly and most of it is avoidable, why do we do it?

First: Urgency feels like commitment. If we're not rushing, maybe we don't care enough? Maybe we're not ambitious enough? Urgency signals that this work matters.

But commitment doesn't require rush. It requires sustained attention over time.

Second: Urgency creates focus. When everything has to happen now, we can't overthink. We just execute. For people who struggle with analysis paralysis, urgency is liberating.

But manufactured focus isn't strategic focus. It's just activity.

Third: Urgency justifies saying no. "We don't have time" is an easier explanation than "this doesn't align with our priorities." Urgency provides cover for boundary-setting.

But you don't need urgency to say no. You just need clarity about what matters.

Fourth: Urgency feels exciting. The rush. The intensity. The sense that everything's happening fast. For some personalities, that energy is addictive.

But excitement isn't impact. And rush culture burns people out.

What Changes When You Reject Manufactured Urgency

I had to learn this lesson the hard way with my podcast.

The frantic pace wasn't serving anyone. Not me. Not my guests. Not listeners who would have been just as happy with fewer episodes released at a sustainable pace.

The urgency was entirely in my head. A story about what launching "should" look like. A manufactured timeline that was making me miserable.

So I changed it.

I gave myself permission to slow down. To release episodes when they're ready, not according to an arbitrary schedule. To prioritize the quality of conversation over the quantity of content.

And guess what happened?

The work got better. The conversations got deeper. I started enjoying it again.

Nothing externally changed. The "urgency" had been fiction all along.

The same thing happens with organizations.

When you reject manufactured urgency and create space for strategic thinking, several things shift:

Decisions improve because you're not making them under artificial time pressure.

Quality increases because you're not rushing to meet invented deadlines.

Capacity expands because people aren't constantly in stress mode.

Strategy clarifies because you have time to think about whether this is the right move, not just whether you can execute it quickly.

How To Reclaim Strategic Thinking

If your organization is trapped in manufactured urgency, here's how to start reclaiming space for strategic thinking:

First: Name it. In your next leadership meeting, ask: "How much of our current urgency is real versus manufactured?" Just naming the pattern creates space to question it.

Second: Test it. Try the five-initiative audit. Ask what would actually happen if you paused things. Use real consequences, not imagined catastrophes.

Third: Reset timelines. That deadline you're all stressed about? Who set it? Could you change it? What if you did?

Fourth: Practice strategic no. Not every opportunity requires quick response. Not every grant is worth applying for. Not every meeting needs to happen this week.

Fifth: Model a different pace. If you're a leader, your relationship with urgency sets the tone. When you rush, your team rushes. When you slow down strategically, you give permission for thoughtful work.

From Urgency To Importance

The thing I keep (re) learning is this: urgency and importance are not the same thing.

Urgent things demand immediate attention. Important things deserve sustained attention over time.

Mission-driven work is important. It's not always urgent.

When we confuse the two—when we treat everything important as if it's urgent—we undermine our own capacity for impact.

We move fast but don't get far. We're busy but not strategic. We're exhausted but not effective.

The antidote isn't moving slowly. It's moving thoughtfully. It's distinguishing between real urgency and manufactured pressure. It's having the courage to reject false timelines in service of genuine impact.

Not everything urgent is important.

And most urgency? It's a story we're telling ourselves.

Time to write a different one.

This is lesson 10 in a 25-part series exploring insights from podcast conversations with leaders who leave the world better than they found it.

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