It’s Annoying When They Tell You To Slow Down

I feel cautious about promoting the idea of slowness without anchoring it to something concrete and meaningful. Carl Honoré suggests that everyone is eager to learn how to slow down, but they want to discover how to do it quickly.
Most of us recognise that rushing does not lead to greater fulfilment and satisfaction, and we are sold the notion that slowing down will enable us to become fitter, happier, and more productive.
But when people treat slowness as a quick fix, they make it part of the problem it purports to solve. So, I’m wary about discussing slowness, rest, play, and creativity in this way because these concepts are frequently packaged and sold with unrealistic expectations. They turn into merchandisable identity markers and romanticised lifestyle choices, feeding the illusion that we can still be, do, and have everything, if we simply approach it differently.

Have you ever tried to fix, finish, or fashion something under time pressure? Rushing often leads to spills, mistakes, and forgetfulness. I can feel my heart racing as I write this, thinking of moments when I’ve tried to do things with adrenaline pumping – a recipe for imprecision, clumsiness, and forgetfulness…oh, just like that. I already said that, didn’t I?
What are the least helpful words to hear in that moment?
“Stop rushing. Take a breath. Just slow down.”
It’s annoying to be told to slow down when you have no time, especially when the same voices urging self-compassion are piling on the pressure. The same culture that demands we do more, better, and faster also sells slowness as a personal responsibility.
It’s particularly frustrating when those with the privilege to embrace slowness preach it as a universal truth we should all be able to live by. Instead of addressing systemic conditions that make slowing down impossible for many, the conversation often centres on individual choices, successes, and failures.
What are the real implications of slowing down?
In reality, slowing down means we will be less “productive”. Doing fewer things in more time rather than more in less time. Some personal hopes and dreams might need to fall away (because we can’t do it all). We may feel anxious about missing out while perceiving everyone else striving ahead.
Slowing down is difficult because we fear being left behind in a culture obsessed with growth. And yet, marketers rarely acknowledge this side of the conversation. Instead, we see slowness touted as just another optimisation strategy—a different kind of hustle within the same old system. This comes through ideas like “Rest IS productive”. Humechanisation demands justifications for activities that can’t be actively measured or quantified. It tells us that rest, play, exercise, creativity etc are only worthwhile if they help us produce a result or deliver a useful outcome.
We need a new playing field. Radical slowness isn’t something we can achieve alone. It’s less about an identity or lifestyle and more about reshaping collective values and questioning the beliefs that drive our families, communities, and economies. It requires identifying the forces that push us to burnout and deciding together how to resist them. The answer isn’t individual heroes and gurus telling us what to do. It’s about coming together and actively collaborating to redefine our shared purposes..
When Slowing Down Isn’t Viable
This isn’t to say individual choices don’t matter. However, living with a perspective of slowness and playful rest is not currently viable for many. These shouldn’t be privileges that only a select few can enjoy (and sell as aspirational lifestyle choices for others to follow). They are the core foundations for building a healthy and happy society for all.
Byung-Chul Han’s book, The Burnout Society, addresses this issue at its core. It exposes the harm of self-help culture and toxic positivity, showing that burnout isn’t an individual failure but a symptom of a capitalist system that values people only for their productivity. Until we address this, slowness will remain another commodity posing as, but failing to provide, a meaningful solution.
Slow Rituals
Do you engage in any personal or collective “slow rituals”? Hobbies or habits that can’t be rushed to be done properly. I’ve had a great time embarking on collaging pages for the community zine this year. The deliberation and intentionality of it have been a welcome invitation to slow down and piece things together thoughtfully and “feelfully.” I took great delight in the gentle rebellion of “wasting time” (in the eyes of efficiency/productivity/achievement culture) and letting my hands create something that I was directly involved in.
What (if any) slow rituals do you have in your life? I’d love to hear!

Responses