A surplus of time — time affluence — isn’t always a gift; it is also an obligation to decide wisely.
Arun Kumar
Arun Kumar + AI
Summary: A day consists of discretionary (DT) and non-discretionary (NDT) time. NDT covers essential tasks like work and maintaining hygiene, while DT offers freedom of choices. Deciding among choices for activities to fill DT, however, is not trivial. Evolution pushes us toward ease and can be a considerable influence on what we choose. Psychological traits like growth vs fixed mindset also play their role. A big philosophical question is whether some choices are better than others, and if so, why?
A single day is the fundamental unit of time that, when repeated and summed, shapes the arc of our lives. The way we choose to spend our available hours each day defines our existence — and perhaps, in the end, influences the words spoken in our eulogy.
Each day’s time can be divided into two distinct categories or boxes: discretionary time (DT) and non-discretionary time (NDT). Together, these boxes encompass our waking hours, typically ranging between 15 to 17 hours. What fills these boxes depends on how we prioritize our portfolio of engagements (PoE) — the collection of tasks, responsibilities, and pursuits that fill hours in the day.
Understanding and exploring how we allocate time between these two boxes, and what belongs in each, is an insightful and often enjoyable exercise, providing a meaningful audit of how we structure our days. In the end, this reflection can pull us out of autopilot, prompting us to question the value and meaning of our engagements and adjust our activities to better align with our current and evolving priorities and the sense of self.
The Non-Discretionary Time Box
The NDT box includes activities that are necessary for maintaining biological and social functionality. Eating is essential, as is working — unless, of course, one has the privilege of a substantial trust fund that removes the necessity of earning a living. Other routine activities, such as showering, cleaning dishes, shaving, and laundering clothes, fall into this category.
However, the size of this box and what remains in it depends on individual choices, conscientiousness, and financial means. A person might decide to grow a beard, eliminating the need to shave; shower infrequently, recognizing that daily showers are a luxury unavailable to much of the world’s population; wash dishes only when absolutely necessary; or wear clothes for an extended period before laundering them. These decisions reflect personal attitudes, preferences, and priorities, shaping how one manages life.
Financial standing plays a significant role in determining what stays in the NDT box. The ability to outsource routine tasks — by hiring a cleaner, a cook, or a concierge — allows certain engagements typically deemed necessary to be removed from this box, freeing up more time.
Once we determine the extent of our non-discretionary time outlay, we arrive at time that is left, i.e., the outlay of time in the DT box. What we do with the time in the DT box is entirely within our control. That freedom, however, comes with the burden of making choices and effectively moving time from the NDT to the DT box.
The Discretionary Time Box
What we do with DT is determined by personal priorities, interests, and motivations. It is with this time that we decide which pursuits are worthy of our attention. However, making decisions about activities in the DT box is not always straightforward or easy. One particular psychological tendency often lures us off course — the inclination to choose the path of least resistance, favoring ease and convenience over effort, intentionality, and agency.
The Evolutionary Trap: The Path of Least Resistance
Human beings have an innate tendency to opt for convenience, choosing activities that require minimal effort. This inclination, rooted in evolutionary survival mechanisms, has long been advantageous for survival and reproduction. Throughout evolutionary history, conserving energy meant avoiding unnecessary exertion, ensuring survival in a world of scarce resources. Our ancestors, faced with the need to hunt and gather (definitely not an easy task), implicitly knew that expending energy recklessly could result in failure, exhaustion, or even death (cognizant or not, natural selection will steer you towards such traits).
Even today, this evolutionary trait continues to shape our daily lives. Choosing to relax rather than exercise, procrastinating on personal development, or scrolling through social media instead of reading a book — all reflect our inclination for low-effort engagements. We are born cognitive misers.
While this mindset once benefited survival, in modern society, it can function as a barrier to self-progress, self-improvement, and pursuing meaningful achievements. Although important, the tendency to choose the path of least action, however, is not the only factor influencing choices we make.
Growth Mindset vs. Fixed Mindset
What choices we make for the DT available to us also depends on psychological makeup. People with a growth mindset embrace challenges, strive for development, and seek knowledge continuously. They view time affluence as an opportunity to acquire skills, explore new passions, and refine their abilities.
Conversely, those with a fixed mindset tend to resist change. They may believe their capabilities are static, leading them to avoid challenges or new experiences. This psychological distinction significantly affects time allocation — whether one chooses to invest DT for learning, creativity, and personal growth or prefers routine activities that maintain comfort.
Growth Mindset vs. “Content With Relaxing” Retirees
A particularly interesting example of choice emerges when considering growth-oriented retirees versus retirees who adopt a more laissez-faire approach. While some retirees seize their newfound time affluence after retirement to travel, explore new hobbies, and reinvent themselves, others — whom we can call “content relaxers” — find fulfillment in slowing down. These individuals may prefer watching TV, golfing, engaging in leisurely activities, and soaking in the comforts of routine, rather than chasing new experiences.
Perhaps, both choices are equally valid — what matters is whether the individual finds contentment in their decision and is at ease with them. There is no absolute measure to determine which way of making choices is better or worse (for that matter, our predispositions may not even allow for making choices against our innate nature). A measure for the right choices for activities could be a fulfillment they bring to us, which is a personal matter rather than external validation.
If a person feels secure in their choices, without regret or longing for alternatives, their approach to DT is perfectly legitimate.
Time Allocation During Life Transitions
Time allocation between DT and NDT boxes can fluctuate during life transitions. Major transitions such as retirement, career changes, or family matters, alter the distribution of time between DT and NDT.
When retiring, the size of DT box expands leading to time affluence. Without an anticipated or planned structure, this sudden increase in discretionary hours can become a slippery slope, resulting in a feeling of stagnation or lack of fulfillment. Some retirees struggle with too much free time, finding themselves adrift, uncertain of how to allocate their newfound hours meaningfully. Nearing the end of life and realizing the prospect of mortality, engaging in activities for their own sake is a double whammy. Those who plan in advance, however, do manage to redirect their time toward personal growth, leisure, or social engagement.
Parting Thoughts
In the end, time allocation is deeply personal. Whether an individual fills the DT box with intellectual exploration or chooses relaxation, there are no absolute metrics for determining which is inherently better. What matters most is contentment — if a person feels secure in their choices, without regret or dissatisfaction, then they are on solid ground.
As life transitions alter the balance between DT and NDT boxes, it is crucial to anticipate these changes, plan strategically, and adapt accordingly. No matter how circumstances change, one constant remains: our ability to engage with our available time in meaningful ways, using our choices to shape our lives in alignment with our aspirations and priorities.
Ciao, and thanks for reading.
A Note: The urge for this post started with my reflections on how the choices we make for the activities for the DT box intersect with a myriad of thought-provoking questions that generations of philosophers have dwelled upon. Are some choices inherently better than others — and if so, why? Do absolute metrics exist that allow choices we make to be measured and judged objectively?
Is learning a new skill, even without the intention to monetize it, more valuable than opting for the path of least resistance — one that television and the internet have perfected, offering unlimited content that seems endlessly novel? Is volunteering for a just cause a superior choice compared to other non-pursuits? How does the personal temperament we are born with, such as a growth mindset versus a fixed mindset, influence our choice of activities? Could legacy — the signature we leave behind — serve as a meaningful metric for choices we make? Or, in the end, are all choices equal, as long as we can look back on our lives without regret for paths we chose not to explore?
How about the role of inequalities (e.g., financial, or cognitive) in our ability to make choices. Having DT itself is a luxury of sorts that many do not have. For those who have the privilege to have this luxury, is the burden of the responsibility of making (right) choices higher? But then, we circle back again to pondering what is ‘right’?
In the end, all roads come down to the same question — is there a way to judge if some choices we make are better than others? This is what has kept philosophers busy since the dawn of civilization. And we continue on the same quest.
