Chapter 2 of What Matters Most challenges a common nostalgia: the belief that life was slower and more spacious a century ago, when people supposedly had “more time.” Hyrum Smith dismantles this idea by examining how modern technology and expectations have reshaped our relationship with time, often leaving us feeling more harried despite labor-saving advances.
Many people express a wistful longing for the past, imagining pioneers or earlier generations enjoyed abundant leisure. Smith counters that the real difference is not the quantity of time—everyone still receives the same twenty-four hours each day—but the sheer number of options available for using those hours. Technology has accelerated tasks dramatically: household chores that once took a week can now be completed in a few hours, and meals that required hours of preparation are ready in minutes.
Yet this efficiency has not delivered the promised leisure. Instead, it has multiplied expectations. Clients, employers, and even personal networks now demand output that would have been impossible in earlier eras. The time saved is quickly absorbed by additional demands, leaving less room for reflection, dreaming, or simply allowing the mind to wander. Smith contrasts this with pioneer life, where repetitive, slower tasks often provided extended periods for thoughtful pondering—something rare amid today’s constant pace.
The chapter introduces the concept of “timelock,” drawn from Ralph Keyes’s 1991 book Timelock. Just as traffic can reach gridlock and cease to move, time can become so overloaded with urgent claims that no additional second feels available. Urgent matters—many trivial—consume the majority of attention, following the 80/20 rule: up to 80 percent of time goes to activities that represent far less than 20 percent of what truly matters.
Modern communication technology intensifies the problem. Cell phones, pagers, and email follow people everywhere, turning commutes, evenings, and even vacations into extensions of work. The ability to stay connected has become an expectation to stay connected, eroding natural pauses for recovery and reflection.
Smith emphasizes that the core issue is not a lack of time but a failure to choose intentionally. When someone says, “I don’t have time,” they are actually saying, “I value something else more.” This realization applies to every decision: declining a lunch invitation, postponing playtime with a child, or skipping help with household tasks. Each “no” reflects a prioritization, often unconscious, of one value over another.
The chapter concludes that in an era of endless options, the power of choice becomes paramount. Freed from mere survival, individuals can fill their days with meaningful activity or allow them to drift into busyness without purpose. Recognizing that time allocation is a direct expression of values is essential for regaining control and directing life toward what truly matters most.
Questions for Reflection:
1. Do you ever find yourself thinking that an earlier era offered “more time”? After reading this chapter, how has your view of that idea shifted?
2. Where in your daily life do you notice “timelock”—when urgent demands crowd out space for reflection or what feels truly important?
3. Think of a recent moment when you said (or thought), “I don’t have time.” What were you actually choosing to value more in that instance?
Please share your thoughts in the comments below. In the next entry on February 23rd, the discussion will advance to Chapter 3, where Smith begins to outline the practical steps for identifying governing values.
