A Premature Rejection of Getting Things Done (GTD)

In 2007, I came across the book Getting Things Done: The Art of Stress-Free Productivity by David Allen, about six years after its initial release in 2001.

I bought the book and skimmed through it, reading some sections in detail.

My takeaway? If someone had even a spark of inspiration or a hint of creativity, then Getting Things Done (GTD) would feel stifling. To me, GTD seemed like a neurotic system built for robots.

Consequently, I dismissed the book.

In 2014, a friend mentioned he’d read a book called Willpower: Rediscovering the Greatest Human Strength by psychologist Roy F. Baumeister and New York Times journalist John Tierney. So, I started to read. The book includes two sections between pages 75 and 87 that discuss GTD (Getting Things Done). Even though the broader concept of willpower has been critiqued as ineffectual¹, I found these sections convincing—and the most insightful introduction to GTD I’ve encountered.

The book directly addressed my concerns about the GTD system being overly neurotic. On page 77, it notes: “You might dismiss this all as evidence of dreary anal-retentiveness, but Allen could not be less dour or more relaxed.”

There’s also a relatable story about comedian Drew Carey feeling overwhelmed.

And then there’s this compelling passage:

I decided to revisit GTD. Instead of starting with the book, I searched YouTube for every video featuring David Allen or others discussing GTD: online courses, a lecture at Google, training sessions at a bank, numerous interviews with avid YouTubers, a TED Talk, and more. Over the following weeks, I watched and rewatched the videos.

I’ve come to realize that GTD is practical and grounded. I had misunderstood it at first. In fact, it’s especially useful for those in creative fields.

GTD is essentially about cultivating good habits. Once it’s integrated into your routine, it feels like common sense. At its core, it teaches us to make decisions about information, ideas, and tasks so they don’t constantly occupy our minds like persistent ghosts. It also emphasizes storing our tasks and projects—our “stuff”—in an external system, because our brains aren’t built to be efficient inventories.

I noticed positive effects within the first two weeks of adopting the system. I remember walking through downtown San Francisco, feeling both relaxed and more observant—a sensation I hadn’t realized was missing until it returned.

A week after that realization, while waiting for a talk to begin, I worked through a list of tasks (referred to as “next actions” in GTD terminology). I didn’t have to think about what to do next. This supports David Allen’s point that GTD users know what to do even when unexpected disruptions like power outages happen. Disruptions are simply shifts in context.²

Now, I see the habits of GTD as fundamental—on par with exercising regularly and eating well.

A few weeks ago, a constantly busy friend I’d often recommended GTD to finally gave it a try. Now she texts me things like “Have a great GTD day!”-which is nice to get.