You may have heard about our culture’s or workplace leaders’ strong action bias. We like to do things, not reflect on them. But a false sense of urgency is different, and the distinction is important.

For one, action bias is not always bad — sometimes things genuinely need to get done, not waffled over. Project timelines are real, and deadlines and milestones are meaningful. If you don’t get that tax return in on April 15, the IRS is gonna want a word, right?

But a false sense of urgency is never a positive, because it’s false. It’s built on empty ideas like “the earlier the better, the faster the better, the sooner the better.” None of these are honest declarations or conclusions drawn based on what a project or goal might actually need. In many ways, they’re grounded in a scarcity mindset about time. The result is the idea that productivity, in and of itself, is the ultimate good — even if it leads to burnout, crappy work, and ruined relationships.

This false urgency can show up in a couple of different places. We get so caught up in setting goals in our personal lives. We set targets for everything from ounces of water to steps walked. Because the data is instantaneous, even a single day off can set off 20 phone alerts. And that leaves us in a constant state of, “Oh, my God, look at all the things I haven’t done! If that needs to be done yesterday, then clearly this has to get done tomorrow. Or today. Or now.” Suddenly, even the smallest thing has to happen immediately. Everything’s so important. Everything’s priority one.

Except when everything’s top priority, nothing is. Once again, we’re asking the impossible of ourselves. And from there, you can easily see how this false sense of urgency feeds into (and off of) catastrophizing, perfectionism, and people-pleasing. “If I don’t get this done, people are going to think I’m terrible, that I can’t manage my stuff, that I can’t handle my business. I’ll be put on a performance improvement plan, I’ll let Tara and Julie down, I’ll look like a terrible parent.” The false sense of urgency is like a jolt of caffeine to all these false stories we tell ourselves.

False urgency is one thing when we’re doing it to ourselves, but then another thing entirely when a system is doing it to us or other people. For instance, you could be going about your workday, no fires to put out, nothing really happening, only to get totally riled up in 60 seconds because your boss storms in asking, “Well, where is it? Where’s your slide deck? And the analysis report? Where is it?”

You know that the deadline isn’t for two months. You may be fully aware that half the data isn’t even in yet. But if your boss comes in screaming “Where is it?” I bet you’re going to get really amped up. Your emotional state is going to skyrocket. You’ll be on top of your team’s ass for the rest of the two months, leaving your best intentions and actual values on the sidelines, because “Where is it?!?!”

False urgency is one thing when we’re doing it to ourselves, but then another thing entirely when a system is doing it to us or other people.

Here, the bullshit creeps in, because you’re not stupid. You can recognize that the urgency here is false — you know when the deadline is and how long stuff takes, and you’re fine. But your boss is breathing down your neck over it, and you’re still trapped, because your boss is the one with the power to levy consequences. Sure, maybe you ask a question or two to try to poke holes in the timeline, get things to slow down — and then bam, suddenly you’re “questioning authority” or “thinking you know better than management.” You’re a troublemaker, or you’re not a team player. You’re the person who just won’t get it done. It’s almost like no matter what you do, the power dynamics will lock it in place.

And just when you thought false urgency was limited to work, it’ll show up with your family, too. Have you ever seen someone getting ready for the holidays? Suddenly, every picture has to be up on the mantel in a certain place; the stockings have to be hanging perfectly; the lights have to be set up outside by 11:59 p.m. on Thanksgiving night. The dog has to wear his bow tie, and everyone has to have the matching pajama set a month in advance. But why? Most of the time, family members don’t even care. They don’t notice if there are dust bunnies on the stairs. They just want to spend time together. They’re here for quality time, while you’ve taken it all the way to 100, because you want the Norman Rockwell experience, and you want it now.

In reality, no one’s going to die if you don’t finish putting up the ornaments, or don’t have the baby’s nursery picture-perfect before she’s born, or don’t capture every memory of your kids in a scrapbook. Again, it’s just a system putting pressure on you to do stuff (or, really, buy stuff) and leveraging your guilt to make that happen. Eventually, no one has to put the pressure on; you’re doing it to yourself, your team, and your family.