Toxic Productivity: The High You Didn’t Know You Were Addicted To

Let’s be honest: toxic productivity feels amazing. It’s legal adrenaline. The caffeine hit your ego has been begging for.

You know the high, 50 billable hours a week plus another 20 hours on business development or practice-building. Your calendar looks like the wiring diagram of a nuclear submarine, and you feel essential. Important. Valuable. Indispensable.

That was me.

For years, I believed my worth was tethered to output, my value measured by how much I could shovel onto the bonfire of “done.”

The cruel irony? What I thought was productive didn’t always align with how others saw it. Turns out, working 12-hour days isn’t impressive when nobody asked for it, and it often isn’t valued.

And yes, it nearly broke me. Many times.

The Trickster in Disguise

Toxic productivity is a trickster. It doesn’t show up wearing devil horns. It disguises itself as ambition. As dedication to the practice. As devotion to the firm.

You’re not lazy. You’re terrified.

• Terrified of irrelevance.
• Terrified of stillness.
• Terrified of hearing your own thoughts echo back.

So we binge on business development, delivery, or practice-building. It’s emotional avoidance dressed up as career strategy.

It’s the consultant’s version of eating a tub of ice cream in a dark kitchen—except it’s PowerPoint decks and WIP spreadsheets.

The Gut-Punch Realisation

Here’s the gut-punch I’ve learned: Toxic productivity isn’t about achieving. It’s about avoiding. 

Avoiding shame. Avoiding inadequacy and avoiding the consultant’s quiet impostor syndrome. It’s a vain attempt to hide behind busywork, hoping your practice Partner will notice and reward you with a promotion.

I used to think I was being noble, sacrificing weekends like incense to the gods of output. But here’s the absurd truth: nobody hands out medals for exhaustion, least of all the people who really care about you.

The Escape Plan That Works

The solution isn’t another productivity hack. It’s this: 

Play your own game. Get brutally clear about what matters to you—not your boss, not your firm, not some algorithm’s idea of success.

Start measuring your life by values, not output.

And here’s a simple test:

Ask yourself, “Would I still do this if nobody knew?”

If the answer is no, drop it.

Your Calendar Isn’t Your Identity

Your calendar, utilisation, chargeability or productivity are not your personality. Neither is your inbox.

Take it from someone who’s learned the hard way, your worth isn’t in what you finish.

It’s in who you become when you finally stop.