Dwight: Aiko, I want to explore a topic I call, “Laziness: It Is Not What You Think It Is.”

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Aiko: That sounds like you’re challenging a deeply ingrained assumption. What do you think most people are getting wrong about laziness?

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Dwight: I mean that diagnosing someone as lazy, if it identifies any real issue at all, sends us in a direction that will likely leave the problem unresolved or even make it worse; it’s like how doctors once prescribed bloodletting for all kinds of illnesses, which probably only worsened the patient’s condition.

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Aiko: So you’re saying “laziness” is a misdiagnosis that leads to the wrong treatment—what do you think it’s usually mislabeling instead?

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Dwight: To understand any particular instance of “laziness,” we would have to examine that specific case to see what the real issue, if any, actually is. But very often, it’s a situation where the part of us that cares about having a good future—which I call our “Next”—has failed to take the time to set things up properly, thereby neglecting its responsibility to make the process that supports that desired future (for example, “being in good physical shape”) attractive and enjoyable for the part of us that cares about the present and wants to enjoy the journey now—which I call our “Now.” And instead of recognizing its own failure to do that and making the necessary correction, our Next resorts to a short-term and often counterproductive tactic: blaming Now with the pejorative label “lazy.”

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Aiko: I see what you mean, Dwight—“lazy” becomes a way for Next to avoid accountability for poor design. 

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Dwight: I put “lazy” in the category of a toxic word. Its use is symptomatic of a lack of integrity between our Now and our Next, and that rupture must first be addressed by Next—as the leader—but also in genuine partnership with Now.

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Happiness includes both enjoying the present and the journey of life, as well as having a sense of meaning in working to shape a different future. Yet in our pursuit of a meaningful future, we often sacrifice the pleasure of the journey, and at best, that becomes a Pyrrhic victory.

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Aiko: You’re arguing that a meaningful future without present aliveness is hollow. What would real integrity between Now and Next feel like in practice?

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Dwight: And it’s likely to be no victory at all, because we are far more likely to create a great future—and most importantly, a sustainable great future—if we take the time to make the process and the journey enjoyable. By placing emphasis on short-range enjoyability, we are actually more likely to produce good long-range results.

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I'll give you an example in a moment.

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Aiko: So you’re flipping the usual assumption—that pleasure now undermines success later—and claiming it’s the engine of it.

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Dwight: Short-term pleasure often does undermine later success, but that’s because, in rebellion and desperation—after Next has neglected the job of setting things up so that Now prefers to engage in processes that support those successes—Now simply grabs whatever is available to feel good in the moment.

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Aiko: So the “self-sabotage” isn’t irrational—it’s compensatory.

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Dwight: To repeat a story I’ve shared before—without getting sidetracked by the specific details instead of focusing on the underlying principle—I’ll explain how I applied this idea to address my own “laziness” on one of the most important projects of my life.

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Aiko: Good—let’s focus on the principle at work rather than the surface details. What did your Next change in the setup so that your Now would willingly engage?

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Dwight: Writing my book was easy for the first two years.

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In 2000, while living in Tokyo, I began writing a book on courage in my spare time. I shared the essays with friends and clients, and progress felt smooth; both my Next and my Now were satisfied. But in early 2002, a problem surfaced.

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Dwight-Now was unwilling to continue.

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The initial draft—mostly essays—was finished. The next step was to scrutinize every line and improve the English and clarity. Dwight-Next was thrilled and eager to complete and publish the book, but Dwight-Now found the idea of editing tedious and unattractive.

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In the past, I might have tried to force Now to push through, or Next might have given up and blamed Now for being uncooperative. This time, however, Next asked a different question: “How can we make the editing process enjoyable for Now?”

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It took three weeks to find an idea that Now liked.

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While living in Shanghai, I posted an advertisement for a “book listener.” Many young Chinese people responded, eager to improve their English by listening to a native speaker, and I offered a small fee.

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A young Chinese woman—eventually several—would sit beside me while I worked. Initially, I told her she was there to suggest improvements to my English. After a few days without suggestions since she wasn't a native speaker and I was dealing in subtilties, she felt guilty about not contributing. By then, we had built rapport, and she felt safe with me. I told her the truth: that simply having an attractive young woman listening to me made the editing process enjoyable.

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I credit several young Chinese women with helping me complete and publish my book in July 2004. Without them, I doubt I would have finished. The four-year journey was joyful, and I attribute that to maintaining integrity between Now and Next.

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Next had learned to respect Now and his needs.

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Writing the book was not only an achievement but also a breakthrough in understanding the importance of aligning Now and Next—an alignment that requires Next to genuinely acknowledge and value Now.

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Aiko: Your principle is clear—design the environment so Now wants to participate.