A feminist approach to time and productivity

Productivity has never been neutral.

Its roots lie in a long history of organising labour to maximise output, often by reducing people to economic units. From early industrial models to modern project management practices, time has been carved up, measured, and optimised in service of efficiency.

In this process, time itself has become tightly woven into how we value work. What happens, though, when time becomes the dominant lens through which we manage projects- and what quietly gets lost in the process?

The myth of urgency

In many project environments, urgency is constant.

Deadlines pile up, timelines shrink, and everything feels equally important. Tools like the Eisenhower Matrix ask us to distinguish between what is "urgent" and what is "important," yet in practice, urgency almost always wins. And when time is limited, something always gives. But what gets lost, however, is rarely visible in a workplan.

Reflection is usually the first to go. Without space to pause and think critically, or to (un)learn, patterns repeat themselves and the systems of oppression embedded in our ways of working go unnoticed and unreplicated.

Care becomes strained as emotional responses intensify and wellbeing and relational dynamics are quietly sidelined. Communication and collaboration suffer too. We stop asking for help and start working in silos because it feels faster, rushing through conversations instead of building shared understanding and moving into reactive modes without space to reflect.

When timelines are unrealistic, it is not just time that gets squeezed but people. We skip steps that would have improved outcomes and lose opportunities to re-plan, which is a cornerstone of adaptive, responsive project management. The result? Work may get done, but often at the cost of quality, sustainability, and the people doing it.

Time is not just an individual responsibility

Consider a common example from the humanitarian sector: organising a participatory community consultation.

On paper, this might be planned as a one-day workshop. In reality, meaningful participation requires far more: building trust, ensuring inclusive outreach, adapting materials to local languages and contexts, navigating power dynamics, and creating space for people to speak safely. It often also involves follow-up conversations, feedback loops, and adjusting plans based on what emerges. What appears as a straightforward activity is actually relational, iterative, and deeply context-dependent. Yet timelines routinely reduce this complexity to a single line in a workplan.

Time estimates, in this way, do not just shape reality. They erase the parts of it that matter most.

Time as a resource: who decides?

To-do lists are never-ending, and mastering them is not the goal. Instead of trying to control the list, what if we focused on the relational nature of work? Some tasks may be manageable. Many are not. They depend on people, context, and shifting realities. In project management, we think carefully about financial budgets, but what if we treated time with the same intentionality? Do we explicitly allocate time for reflection, care, and collaboration? Who holds the power to define timelines, and whose realities are left out of that process? Where do you, as a project manager, have influence over how time is structured and protected? Reframing time in this way opens up new possibilities and allows us to challenge extractive practices in favour of projects that are more humane, inclusive, and sustainable.

Towards a feminist take on time

If time is political and constructed, then it can also be reimagined. A feminist approach to productivity does not aim to optimise individuals but to transform systems. It recognises that progress is not linear and that meaningful work requires space for reflection, adaptation, and care. In practice, this means designing projects with breathing room rather than back-to-back deliverables, protecting time for collective sense-making, and resisting the pressure to treat every deadline as equally urgent. 

This asks us to pause and consider: What assumptions about time and productivity are shaping our work? Where does urgency come from, and is it real or constructed? Who decides how long something should take, and whose realities are left out? 

Perhaps what we need is not better time management, but a new vision of time altogether.