Chapter 1 : Part 4

A Perfect Mess: The Hidden Benefits of Disorder - How Crammed Closets, Cluttered Offices, and On-the-Fly Planning Make the World a Better Place
By Eric Abrahamson, Ph.D., M.Ph., David H. Freedman

(Page 4 of 5)

But this is all anecdotal observation. There isn't much research out there to show whether concerns about mess and disorganization are really running roughshod over our psyches. So a survey of 260 people was conducted for this book. (It wasn't formally randomized but included a fairly broad cross section of Americans.) According to the results, fully two-thirds of the respondents feel guilt or shame about their messiness or disorderliness. And no wonder: 59 percent say they think "somewhat less" or "the worst" of someone who is messy and disorganized, while 70 percent think more of someone who is neat and organized.

Seventy-nine percent say they would be more satisfied with their lives outside work if they were neater and more organized, and 60 percent say they feel pressure to keep their space at work neat. Two-thirds believe they would be more successful if they were neater and more organized. Eighty-eight percent think their employers would benefit from being more organized or differently organized. Could their organizations benefit even just a little from being less organized? Ninety-three percent didn't see it. Interestingly, though, few appear to be losing the infamous hour a day, at work or at home, locating items. Respondents reported spending an average of just under nine minutes at work and just over nine minutes at home looking for things.

Following is a sampling of comments from the survey and from interviews:

"I have a good friend who is very, very organized and neat. . . . Although I generally consider myself fairly neat and clean, I find that I now compare myself to her. And I do not come out looking so good in the comparison." "[My boss] suggested to me that I should clean up my desk. When I told him I was able to find what I needed very quickly he responded, 'It doesn't make it right.' " "I wanted to change from having a life full of stress and unhappiness due to the continual mess in my mind and in my surroundings."

"I used to spend an hour each day planning out my day on an Excel spreadsheet until my boss told me I was spending too much time on it." "I'm so jealous of a friend of mine. She is incredibly organized, and she has three very young children. When I go over to her house, there is no sign of toys or mess. . . . It kills me!"

Help Me, Oprah

Professional organizers may tap into the thick vein of mess stress, but they don't create it. They don't need to. The message that we're not orderly enough is all around us. It has become a staple of television news, newsmagazines, and talk shows, from Oprah - who has outed unsuspecting people as messy in front of millions of viewers - to Today, which has had guests advise viewers on "systematizing your spousal relationship." There are two television series devoted entirely to the restoration of order in the bedrooms, dens, garages, and, consequently, lives of families whose home disorder has become overwhelming. And other shows seek to do much the same for parent-child relationships. Being neat and organized, after all, isn't just about getting rid of physical mess, it's about being systematic and consistent, following a scheme, and imposing the right processes, whether filing papers at the office or dealing with loved ones.

There are chains of stores that sell only organizational aids - the Container Store's annual sales have almost doubled over the past four years to nearly a half-billion dollars - and magazines that exist largely to promote an ideal of order in the home. (Sample advice from Real Simple: Assign each member of your family a towel color.) Businesses and other institutions, of course, are supposed to be epicenters of order - it's not a coincidence that we call them organizations. But by their own reckoning, a significant percentage of them are never quite organized enough or are disorganized - or so we might assume when trying to make sense of the fact that, according to Stanford University professor Robert Sutton, U.S. businesses spend more than $45 billion each year on management consultants. Given all the time, energy, money, and more that we spend combating mess and disorder - and the deep, widespread anxieties that motivate the spending - you'd think we'd be pretty clear on the benefits of pursuing neatness. Surely proof that we live better lives and enjoy more successful careers via tighter schedules, tidier homes, more rigid routines, and better filing systems, and that organizations and societies thrive by battling mess or disorder wherever it pops up must be laid out for us somewhere.

The notion is so deeply ingrained that questioning it seems absurd. It's not just the media bombardment or the presence of vast industries ready to "fix" our messiness and disorganization. We've heard it from our parents since infancy, it's echoed by teachers, and it's continually reinforced by our peers, bosses, and spouses. When we see ourselves as failing in some way, we're quick to blame poor organization. Our belief in the benefits of orderliness is as entrenched as the notion of the healthfulness of high-carbohydrate diets once was.

It's just common sense, isn't it? After all, the following statements would surely strike most people as unprovocative:

• Neatness and organization enable us to function more efficiently and in general more effectively.

• Neatness and organization simplify and structure the world in useful ways.

• Neatness and organization reduce mistakes and oversights, and usefully filter out the randomness of the world around us.

• Neatness and organization are aesthetically pleasing and relaxing.

It's not hard to think of scenarios where these statements seem true. But what if we could come up with common situations where they were clearly not true? Can the case be made that, in many situations, chasing after neatness and organization is largely pointless?

Copyright © 2006 by Eric Abrahamson and David H. Freedman

About the Author

Eric Abrahamson is the youngest-ever full professor of management at Columbia University's School of Business, and author of Change Without Pain.

David H. Freedman is the author of three previous books, and is a business and science journalist who has written for The Atlantic Monthly, Newsweek, and Wired, among other publications.