How Imperfect Action Can Help You Get Sh*t Done
A little bravery and a beginner's mind go a long way.
Greetings, dear readers! Today I’m rewinding a post from the 2024 archives on how to move out of the stagnation phase that perfectionism and/or imposterism often have us mired in. Do remember, however, that I see perfectionism and imposterism as issues with roots in structural inequality, so the method I suggest here may feel safer to some of us than others. If you struggle with perfectionism or imposterism and feel this method is still too risky, that says more about the structures you work within than about you.
I was nervous about starting Publish Not Perish at first.
Sure, I knew I enjoyed teaching others what I had learned about academic writing and managing aca life. I loved working with graduate students, especially when I could see them relax after I told them about my graduate school writing struggles and gave them practical advice on how to improve their writing. The idea for this newsletter, however, did not come to me until the summer of 2022, and at first I was quite anxious about putting it out in the world.
Publishing this newsletter was somewhat daunting at first because it brought along a slew of uncertainties, including the following questions:
Would people question my experience because I was an untenured professor without decades of experience? Would I need a more extensive publication record to be considered credible? Would I invest hours of effort only to find no readers? Would the content resonate with people? What types of content would prove most useful? Would I lose interest in the project after a few weeks of writing?
You can see that my apprehension was a blend of imposter syndrome and genuine logistical concerns. The Jenn of years past might have postponed the launch of PNP for weeks, months, or even years, believing she needed to acquire more knowledge, devise better plans, or attain higher career achievements before trying such a venture. Fortunately, the old Jenn has given way to the new Jenn.
Over the past few years, I've come to appreciate the value of taking imperfect action and understand that failures and missteps are useful instructors. I wrote about the beginner’s mind and learning from failure in this post:
It only took New Jenn about two weeks from conceiving the idea of a newsletter to publishing my first post last summer. That initial click of the "publish" button made me step out of my comfort zone because I didn't have all the answers, but I had the confidence that I could figure things out along the way. In the worst-case scenario, I would attempt the newsletter and glean valuable lessons even if it didn't pan out.
I’m so glad I did, dear reader. You all are a wonderful community that is teaching me so much, and it is such a privilege to come to your inboxes each week.
In honor of you, today’s post is about imperfect action.
The Significance of Imperfect Action
Imperfect action involves taking the leap, even when conditions are less than optimal and things aren't entirely figured out. It entails making decisions, setting goals, and forging ahead with your research, teaching, and service, even in the face of incomplete information or uncertainty. In essence, it prioritizes progress over perfection.
In academia, imperfect action also arises out of necessity. This career—and I include graduate students here—doesn't always provide us with the ideal learning or working conditions. The demands on our time far exceed our capacity to address them all with the utmost precision.
We can't afford to dwell on every decision, given the pressure to complete dissertations, secure jobs, or attain tenure. In fact, if we insist on protracted decision-making processes or pursue every task with unwavering perfectionism, we'll end up stretched past our limits because there simply isn’t enough time to do everything perfectly. If you want to learn more about prioritizing your time according to your priorities, see this post:
The reality of our professional lives is that we must grapple with incomplete data, ever-evolving student needs, and university committees that appear to be in a perpetual state of confusion. It's easy to become stagnant while waiting for ideal conditions, letting valuable opportunities slip through our fingers. This is where imperfect action becomes invaluable.
A Few Examples
So, how does this play out in our academic lives? Let's dive into some examples:
Dissertation Proposals: I often see graduate students delay finishing their dissertation proposals due to the insecurity of not having all the answers yet. They worry about which research method will best address their questions and what might happen if their method doesn't yield the expected results. They worry they are picking the wrong case studies because they don’t know enough about the cases yet.
The truth is that no one starts a dissertation or book project knowing all of the answers because the actual point of the dissertation or book is to learn about the subject of study. Why would you know everything before actually doing the research? Proposals are essentially your best-educated guess or plan, which you will continuously refine as you gather more information and experience. This learning process is essential because you must learn by doing, and no amount of planning ahead of time can substitute for doing. So just take the leap.
So, the key is taking the leap of imperfect action, knowing full well that the dissertation will evolve over time.
Book Project Discussion: A few months ago, a university press editor approached me to discuss ideas for my next book. Initially, I felt unprepared to talk about a new project because I hadn't yet narrowed down my focus. The concept in my mind seemed too vast to be manageable at that point, and my instinct was to decline the meeting.
However, instead of allowing my reservations to hinder progress on my book, I decided to embrace imperfect action. I agreed to the meeting, even with the uncertainty. During the discussion, the editor posed insightful questions that helped me make crucial decisions about the book's direction.
If I hadn't taken that meeting, I wouldn't have made that progress on the book.
Teaching Experiments: When I initially started teaching in graduate school, I dedicated a significant amount of time meticulously planning every aspect of my courses. I contemplated each assignment and activity extensively, creating numerous alternatives to ensure they aligned perfectly with my course objectives. I planned rigorously.
However, as my responsibilities grew as a full-time faculty member, I found myself with less time to plan every detail. So, I adopted an approach grounded in imperfect action. For example, I would come up with an idea for a class activity, quickly jot down a procedure, and try it with the class as an experiment. Sometimes, it worked well, and I incorporated it into future semesters. Other times, it fell flat, and I discarded it.
Instead of dwelling on failures in the classroom, I adopted a mindset that said, "You tried, you learned, and it will be better next time." This approach allowed me to experiment in my teaching and learn through practical experience, freeing up more time for research and other high-priority tasks.
Importantly, I also discovered that meticulous planning didn't always guarantee success with my students, but embracing imperfection led to meaningful progress and adaptation.
In sum
Imperfect action empowers us to experiment, to learn through experience, and to adapt as we encounter new information and insights. It's a mindset that frees us from the paralyzing grip of imposter syndrome, letting us focus on learning rather than fixating on the impossible expectation of already knowing.
To fully embrace this approach, you must step out of your comfort zone and summon the courage to venture into the unknown.
By taking imperfect action, you recognize that the pursuit of perfection can often lead to stagnation and missed opportunities. It demands the adoption of a beginner's mind, a perspective that treats failures not as reflections of one's identity or potential but as valuable opportunities for learning and growth.
But imperfect action is not just a mindset; it's a catalyst for getting sh*t done.
We acknowledge that in academia, where there are so many demands on our time, we must adapt and make decisions even when we lack complete information. It requires the willingness to start projects and engage with challenges without having everything perfectly figured out, knowing that we will refine and improve as we move forward.
So, I invite you to push publish on some form of imperfect action. If you’re feeling extra brave, post about it in the comments. You might just inspire someone else along the way!