Obsess over quality: The glue that binds Slow Productivity

In previous articles, we’ve talked about two of the three principles of Slow Productivity, a term used by Cal Newport in his book Slow Productivity: The Lost Art of Accomplishment Without Burnout to show that another kind of productivity, one that’s more in tune with human nature and less rushed, is possible.

However, it’s difficult to convince exhausted and overwhelmed knowledge workers that the solution to their burnout isn’t working more; doing fewer things and working at a natural pace represent a radical shift from the expectations of the modern corporate world. A crucial piece of the puzzle is missing: what prevents “doing less” from simply becoming “achieving less”? How do we justify to ourselves and others that we are turning down opportunities, saying no to projects, and working at a pace that some would consider “slow”?

Newport’s answer is forceful and challenging: obsess over the quality of what you produce. This third principle isn’t just another piece of productivity advice. It’s, in Newport’s own words, “the glue that holds the practice of Slow Productivity together.” It’s the element that transforms professional simplicity from an option to an essential. Because once you’re committed in doing something extraordinarily well, noise and distraction become intolerable.

Newport describes this principle as follows:

“Obsess over the quality of what you produce, even if this means missing opportunities in the short term. Leverage the value of these results to gain more and more freedom in your efforts over the long term.”

The paradox of value: when less is more

To understand why obsessing over quality works, we need to confront one of the great paradoxes of modern economics: in many cases, doing less and doing it exceptionally well generates more value than doing a lot in a mediocre way.

There are many examples of this, one of which is Basecamp, the software company founded by Jason Fried and David Heinemeier Hansson. In 2014, when the company had several successful products in its portfolio, they made a decision that would seem crazy in Silicon Valley: they decided to focus exclusively on their core product and leave everything else behind. While other tech companies pursued growth at all costs, they deliberately chose the opposite path.

The fascinating thing is that this decision allowed them to achieve something that few companies manage: maintain a small team (fewer than 60 people), generate millions in recurring revenue, and, perhaps most importantly, create a product that 15 million people consider indispensable. They did not pursue exponential growth; they pursued excellence. And paradoxically, that obsession with quality gave them something more valuable than simple growth: freedom to work on their own terms.

History repeats itself in completely different industries. The Mascaró Group, a Spanish footwear company with almost a century of history, has maintained its artisanal production in Menorca when most of its competitors moved their factories to Southeast Asia. They cannot compete in terms of quantity or price with mass industrial manufacturing. But precisely because of this, the company has survived where others have failed: its obsession with quality has earned it customers willing to pay more for products that last, are well made, and mean something.

The deeper purpose of quality

These examples illustrate something fundamental that Newport considers to be at the core of his third principle: obsession with quality is not simply an aesthetic preference or a luxury for artists. Rather, it’s a deliberate and powerful strategy for building a sustainable and meaningful professional life.

Why does it work? There are several interconnected mechanisms. First, focusing on quality forces you, almost automatically, to slow down. You can’t produce exceptional work while frantically jumping between tasks, answering emails every five minutes, and attending endless meetings. Quality work requires time, concentration, and mental space. It requires, in other words, exactly the conditions that govern the first two principles of Slow Productivity.

Second, obsession with quality transforms the decision to “do less” from a reasonable option into an absolute necessity. As Newport writes: “Once you commit to doing something very well, busyness becomes intolerable”. You cannot be constantly interrupted and distracted when you’re committed to producing your best work. You can’t accept every new project that comes along when you know doing so would compromise the quality of your main work. Quality becomes the filter through which you evaluate all demands on your time.

Third, exceptional quality generates what Newport calls “career capital”: rare and valuable skills that give you bargaining power. When you’re exceptionally good at something important, you have options. You can negotiate better working conditions, you can turn down projects that don’t interest you and you can structure your professional life in a way that protects your ability to do your best work. It’s a vicious circle: quality gives you freedom, and that freedom allows you to focus even more on quality.

But there’s something even deeper than that. In a world saturated with mediocre content, disposable products, and interchangeable services, exceptional quality stands out not only because of its rarity, but because it fulfills a fundamental human need: our desire to create and experience things that matter, that last, that mean something beyond the immediate moment.

Historical origins: the artisan mindset

The idea of obsessing over quality is nothing new. In fact, it’s deeply rooted in history. Richard Sennett, a professor at Yale, defines craftsmanship as “a basic and enduring human impulse: the desire to do a job well for its own sake.”

In medieval and Renaissance Europe, the culture of craft guilds provided a comprehensive framework for channeling this drive. Apprentices spent years, even decades, under the tutelage of master craftsmen, learning not only specific techniques but an entire mindset focused on excellence.

The ancient Greeks regarded their god of craftsmanship, Hephaestus, as a bringer of peace and civilization. For them, craftsmanship and community were inseparable. Being exceptionally good at your work isn’t just a smart financial strategy; it’s woven into the very fabric of civilization. Excellence is a core cultural value, not a personal preference.

This artisanal mindset persisted in different forms throughout the centuries. Renaissance scientists such as Galileo and Newton didn’t see their work as a series of tasks to be completed, but as works to be perfected. Jane Austen, working in modest circumstances in the English countryside, meticulously reviewed her manuscripts, polishing every sentence. Georgia O’Keeffe spent months in the New Mexico desert, studying light and form until she could capture exactly what she saw in her mind.

What all these creators shared was a completely different relationship with work than what prevails in modern offices. They didn’t measure their productivity by the number of emails sent or meetings attended. They didn’t celebrate “being busy” as a virtue. Instead, they evaluated their work by a single standard: is it excellent?

From pseudo-productivity to genuine quality

Modern corporate culture has almost completely replaced this artisan mindset with what Newport calls pseudo-productivity: the use of visible activity as a rough substitute for actual productive effort.

The very nature of knowledge work has probably had a significant influence. After all, intellectual work is notoriously difficult to quantify. How do you measure the productivity of a designer, a programmer, a business strategist, or a writer? Without clear metrics, organizations and workers have fallen into the easiest trap: confusing being busy with being productive.

As a result, we often prioritize tasks that are “visibly productive” (responding to emails, attending all meetings, working late, etc.) over work that actually generates value.

Becoming obsessed with quality is the antidote. When quality becomes your primary metric, everything else reorganizes itself around it. You start asking different questions: Will this meeting help me produce better work? Is it worth starting this project at the expense of compromising the quality of my main work? Is this quick email response really necessary, or am I just feeding the illusion of productivity?

How to cultivate obsession: specific strategies

As with the previous principles, Newport provides specific strategies for cultivating an appreciation for quality.

His first suggestion is that you try to improve your taste. Taste is your ability to distinguish between average work and exceptional work. Developing a more refined sense of taste in your field pushes you to improve your skills and aim higher. Some strategies for doing this are:

• Learning about fields other than your own (cinema, literature, art) gives you a more open attitude and can help inspire you.
• Meeting regularly with people who share your professional ambitions allows you to observe other approaches and access a more diverse “taste.”
• Using high-quality tools not only improves the quality of your own work, but can also motivate you to do things better. The feeling of “being a true professional” can be very valuable.

Another more challenging strategy is to bet on yourself. This can mean different things to different people. For some, it could mean getting up at 5 a.m. to work on a personal project before the “real” workday. For others, it could mean deliberately cutting back on expenses to have the freedom to turn down low-paying or unsatisfying work. For some, it might even mean seeking patronage or financial support to create the space necessary to produce exceptional work.

The point is that betting on yourself requires taking risks and making commitments, something that will push you to strive for quality. Newport warns that this is not about recklessly “following your passion.” He doesn’t suggest that you quit your job tomorrow to pursue your dream, but rather a balanced approach: start by developing exceptional skills while maintaining stability. Then use those skills as a leverage to create more freedom and control.

Conclusion: the glue that holds everything together

Newport describes obsession with quality as the glue that holds Slow Productivity together. This principle makes the other two work, transforming an interesting philosophy into a sustainable practice.

Doing fewer things becomes easier when you know that it allows you to do your best work. Working at a natural pace becomes natural when you understand that great work takes time. And obsessing over quality becomes possible when you’ve cleared your calendar and given your work the space it needs to breathe.

Perhaps the most interesting thing about this approach is that it changes the conversation about productivity. It’s no longer about doing more things faster. It’s not about optimizing every minute of your day. It’s not about looking busy. It’s about producing work that matters, work that lasts, work you can be proud of.