In my first article on this topic, I was diplomatic and very honest. Both these qualities have their downsides. Now I will advocate for the need to be willing to get up from that comfortable couch. In my case, it is a recliner with two empty slots. I use one for snacks and the other for drinks. After all, my favourite Maths Teacher in my school, Verma Sir, used to scold students who didn’t finish their homework or do the classwork properly, “Khane kaa, Peene Ka, Nikhalne Kaa. Aur Kuch Aataa hai kya ?”  Maybe, some Japanese inventor will do the needful to address the gap in my recliner’s function. 

Laziness, viewed through a Cost of Investment lens, presents an interesting paradox. I have been told to use bullet points to get more readers. Here are those insights.

The great externalisation of life — We have successfully delegated cooking, groceries, driving, and even thinking to apps. Breathing, eating and a few other vital  functions offer an opportunity for new apps and subscriptions. Someone somewhere could well be working on monetizable  model for that.

Laziness as career strategy: There’s an old piece of corporate wisdom that deserves more credit than it gets: the laziest person in the room almost always finds the most efficient way to get things done. Not because they’re gifted, but because they’re motivated to avoid the hard way — asking relentlessly: Does this need to happen? This way? By me? Managers dress this up and call it delegation. The rest of us call it survival instinct with a LinkedIn-friendly coat of paint.

But strategic laziness has a shadow side that the folk wisdom conveniently skips. Every task you elegantly sidestep lands on someone else’s desk, quietly eroding trust and team morale over time. The hard, unglamorous work is also often where the real learning happens — optimise your way out of difficulty too early and you plateau without knowing why. And in most workplaces, being seen to work hard still matters: the person always hunting for shortcuts gets labelled as not a team player, regardless of output.

When the app goes down: The one day that Swiggy, Blinkit, Zomato or Zepto has an outage is the day we discover our kitchens still exist. A meditation on what happens when the 10-minute world takes 10 hours off.  We revisited some of the lessons we learned during Covid when the LPG crisis hit us. This sparked a small revolution in our kitchen. They taught us that convenience has a shelf life. Laziness is fine — until the shelf is empty.

Laziness, viewed through a Cost of Investment lens, presents an interesting paradox.

The pros are: Laziness often drives efficiency — lazy individuals instinctively seek shortcuts, automating or streamlining tasks to minimise effort. This “productive laziness” reduces time costs and can spark innovation. Energy conservation is another benefit. By avoiding unnecessary tasks, one preserves cognitive and physical resources for higher-value activities. 

The cons are: However, laziness carries steep long-term costs. Avoiding upfront investment in learning, relationships, or health can lead to larger deficits later. Opportunities forfeited due to inaction can represent significant opportunity costs. Reputational damage and sliding discipline can further enhance the hidden price of chronic laziness.

My understanding from all the above is that Strategic laziness pays; habitual laziness bankrupts.

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