Finish What You Start… Or Maybe Just Start Something Else: A Dissection of the Self-Help Circus

In the sea of self-help manuals and guides flooding our bookshelves and Kindle libraries, Charlie Gilkey’s Start Finishing: How to Go from Idea to Done stands out — not necessarily because it offers groundbreaking insights but because it manages to dress old advice in shiny new armor. This psychological critique dives into the ironic yet insightful depths of why most of us are probably doomed to be inspired by yet another self-help book but fail to apply its principles, all while clutching to the hope that this book will be the one that finally turns our chaotic creativity into a structured masterpiece.

The Promise of Productivity

Gilkey promises to transform us from perennial starters into proud finishers through a series of structured steps. The idea is as appealing as it is hopeful: the notion that following a meticulously crafted plan can take you from idea to execution without the typical existential dread and self-sabotage. Yet, here lies the first delicious irony — most readers who need this book are likely the same creative souls who inherently rebel against structured plans. The psychological mismatch is almost palpable.

Procrastination: A Cultural Biography

Let’s delve into the culture of procrastination which Gilkey aims to combat. Procrastination isn’t just a personal failing; it’s a cultural phenomenon, deeply embedded in the human psyche. Psychological research suggests that procrastination is linked with issues of self-esteem, anxiety, and a paralyzing fear of failure (Steel, 2007). Gilkey’s approach, while robust, lightly dances around these deeply ingrained psychological barriers, opting instead for a more surface-level, project-management style approach. It’s akin to telling someone who fears heights to simply not look down while scaling Mount Everest.

The Neuroscience of Finishing

Neurologically, the act of finishing a project is not just about overcoming laziness. It involves a complex ballet of neurochemical activities, including the release of dopamine that rewards task completion. However, for many, the dopamine surge linked with starting a new, exciting project far outweighs the less intense satisfaction derived from following through with an ongoing one (Berridge, 2007). Gilkey’s method, which heavily emphasizes the planning phase, might inadvertently be more thrilling than the execution itself, leading to a cycle of planning euphoria followed by execution ennui.

The Sisyphean Task of Self-Help

One must ponder the existential humor in the self-help industry: a Sisyphean enterprise where success lies in selling the promise of change, not necessarily facilitating it. Gilkey’s book fits perfectly within this framework. It’s packed with actionable advice that, theoretically, should be life-changing. Yet, the industry thrives on repeat customers who purchase one book after another, accumulating dust on shelves as monuments to unmet aspirations. This isn’t to discredit Gilkey’s work, which is insightful and practical, but to highlight the morbid comedy of our collective self-help addiction.

The Dark Side of Self-Improvement

On a darker note, the relentless pursuit of self-improvement can lead to what psychologists call “self-help fatigue,” an exhaustion that stems from constantly being told that we are not enough just as we are (Norcross et al., 2008). Gilkey’s book, while meant to be empowering, might inadvertently contribute to this fatigue, particularly for those who find themselves perpetually in the starting blocks, never quite making it to the finish line.

Conclusion: To Finish or Not to Finish

Start Finishing is a well-intentioned compass in the vast wilderness of productivity tools, meant to guide lost souls towards the nirvana of completed projects. Yet, its true psychological impact might just be to remind us of our own limitations and the humorous futility of our eternal quest for self-optimization. Perhaps the real lesson is to find satisfaction in the journey of perpetual starting, or better yet, to consider whether the things we think we need to finish are worth the existential turmoil at all.

This critique invites us to laugh at ourselves and our endless quest for a better version of ourselves — surely a more enjoyable path to self-acceptance than forcing ourselves through another 9-step program.