"Talking about how busy you are has another undesired effect: It makes you seem ineffective"

Back in May I had published this quote (among others) that I had read in The Thinking Life, a thought-provoking book by P.M. Forni:

" 'I have no time,' we say, but we do, we always do. What we lack is the will or wisdom to commit our time to goals that would be smart of us to pursue. If you are really motivated to do something, you will make time for it. I am not arguing that you are not busy. Most of us are. I am simply urging you to consider that you are only as busy as you let yourself be."

I chose this particular excerpt to make the point that if we care enough about what we have to do, we will always find the time in which to do it.

The operative words are "what we have to do". And also "find the time".

Whether we are in full-time employment or in pursuit of an academic/vocational course, we may have little or no say in the nature of the tasks assigned to us. It is rare for a boss to ask you if you would like to do this or that job. And there is certainly no point in grumbling about the lack of time. When such is the case, surely it is to our advantage to tackle any assignment head-on by making the time for it and by caring enough about the outcome?

After all, if you love what you do, you get to do what you love.

Now here's another perspective on this tendency that many people have of asserting they are "busy as usual". Writing in The Week, the magazine's business editor Carmel Lobello says it is time to stop talking about how swamped you are because...

...talking about how slammed you are can actually damage your ability to connect and interact with people, which is bad for all aspects of life.

In Harvard Business Review, entrepreneur Meredith Fineman says, "To assume that being 'busy' (at this point it has totally lost its meaning) is cool, or brag-worthy, or tweetable, is ridiculous."

As my cool students would say, "True that."

Read Carmel Lobello's enlightening column in its entirety here: The worst word in business: 'Busy'.

PS: I remember that when I was working with Khaleej Times in Dubai, my colleagues would invariably respond to my friendly greeting "How are you doing?" with the retort "Surviving." But any time I was asked "How are you doing?", my response would invariably be "Thriving."

• ALSO READ: "How do you know you love your job?"

How does an editor take the decision to publish pictures that can upset readers?

Time magazine, in its issue of August 9, put an Afghan teenager on the cover with the caption: "Aisha, 18, had her nose and ears cut off last year on orders from the Taliban because she had abusive in-laws".

How does a magazine editor decide that a picture that has the potential to upset readers can be published at all, let alone on the cover? The managing editor of Time, Richard Stengel, says he thought long and hard about putting Aisha on the cover. "First, I wanted to make sure of Aisha's safety and that she understood what it would mean to be on the cover," he writes in the "To Our Readers" column in the magazine. "She knows that she will become a symbol of the price Afghan women have had to pay for the repressive ideology of the Taliban. We also confirmed that she is in a secret location protected by armed guards and sponsored by the NGO Women for Afghan Women."

He continues: "I apologize to readers who find the image too strong, and I invite you to comment on the image's impact."

And then he explains why it was important to feature Aisha on the cover: "But bad things do happen to people, and it is part of our job to confront and explain them. In the end, I felt that the image is a window into the reality of what is happening — and what can happen — in a war that affects and involves all of us. I would rather confront readers with the Taliban's treatment of women than ignore it. I would rather people know that reality as they make up their minds about what the U.S. and its allies should do in Afghanistan."

Predictably, the publication of this picture has stoked a fiery debate, according to the New York Times Kabul correspondent Rod Nordland, with "critics of the American presence in Afghanistan calling it 'emotional blackmail' and even 'war porn', while those who fear the consequences of abandoning Afghanistan see it as a powerful appeal to conscience".

• In Bangalore, both DNA and The Times of India reproduced the NYT article (with permission), though DNA, which had a better layout, inexplicably and unforgivably deleted the last two paragraphs.

In the light of the Time cover story and the ensuing debate, here's a question: Would an Indian magazine have featured Aisha on the cover?

• Read the Time cover story: Afghan Women and the Return of the Taliban.
• In class a few days ago, there were questions about how photographer Jodi Bieber managed to take those pictures of Aisha. Here, in a Time video, she talks about the experience: Photographing Aisha for the Cover of TIME.
• Read readers' letters to Time: Inbox. 
• Read my earlier post on publishing grisly photos here.
• Outlook editor Krishna Prasad's take on the Time cover: "Yet, they won't print pix of dead US soldiers"

UPDATE (October 14, 2010): Aisha now has a prosthetic nose, which, according to a report in The Hindu, she revealed proudly in Los Angeles this week. Read the report here.

THE BADAUN PHOTOGRAPH
On July 24, 2014, "Lens", the photography blog of The New York Times, reflected on the impact of the photo published around the world, which showed the bodies of two teenage cousins raped and then hanged from a tree in Badaun, Uttar Pradesh. Read the blog post here.

MH17 PHOTOS, GAZA PICTURES
And on July 23, 2014, the head of photography of the highly respected Guardian newspaper weighed in with his comments on the merits or otherwise of publishing graphic pictures in the wake of the MH17 crash and the strife in Gaza:

Two headline-grabbing and violent events — the downing of Malaysian Airlines MH17 in Ukraine and Israel's assault on Gaza — have generated some horrific photographs on a seemingly unprecedented scale. Of this flood of images, there are hundreds that we would not choose for publication because they are either deeply shocking, insensitive to human dignity, would be painful if seen by relatives or friends, or ultimately run the risk of forcing readers to turn away from the story, which would negate the purpose of photojournalism.

Read the post in its entirety here: "Graphic content: when photographs of carnage are too upsetting to publish".