Act Blur and Live Longer
In the army, I discovered the most powerful productivity hack ever invented.
It’s called Act Blur.
Not lazy. Not incompetent.
Just… selectively unclear.
When I was a recruit, my corporal had a favourite line.
“Don’t be a smart aleck.”
Translation: Don’t volunteer brilliance. Don’t improve the system. Don’t suggest new ideas that create extra work for everyone else.
The system is already suffering. Don’t make it ambitious.
If you suggest something, you do it.
If you fix something, it is now your permanent job. It's your baby now. You take care of it.
If you do it well, even better. You have just been “identified as talent.”
And in the SAF, being identified as talent means two things:
- You get promoted.
- You get more work.
Sometimes both.
I had a clerk friend who survived decades in the same office. Same table. Same drawer. Same stapler.
Her advice to me was simple.
“Act blur. Because the reward of good work is more work.”
She didn’t say it with bitterness. She said it like a Zen master passing down ancient wisdom.
If you type fast, you become the typist.
If you fix a computer problem, you become the IT department.
If you solve one problem, congratulations. You are now the problem solver.
Commanders like capable soldiers under them.
Not always because they love talent.
But because talent makes them look good.
If their unit performs well, their report card looks clean. Their boss is happy. Life is smooth.
Nobody wants the blur fellow handling the important job.
If he messes it up, it’s not just his problem. It becomes the commander’s problem.
And in the army, one mistake can spoil someone’s promotion.
So when something really matters, they don’t take chances.
They call the steady guy.
Which is why, if you are steady, congratulations.
You just volunteered without volunteering.
So the good ones get loaded.
The blur ones get left alone.
Over time, you notice something fascinating.
The blur ones book out on time.
The efficient ones stay back.
The blur ones carry one file.
The capable ones carry five.
And here’s the twist.
When promotion comes, some NS guys quietly decline it.
Imagine that. In civilian life, people fight for titles.
In the army, people fight to avoid them.
Because promotion means extension.
Extension means responsibility.
Responsibility means less sleep.
Here are some life lessons I learned:
- If people know you are good, they will keep calling you.
When others see that you are capable, they give you more chances. But they also give you more problems. Sometimes being noticed means you never get to rest. - The better you are, the more work you get.
If you fix everything, people stop trying. Why should they? You will settle it anyway. Soon, you are carrying everyone’s load. - If you are reliable, you become the default person.
Once they know you won’t say no, you become the “go-to” guy. And “go-to” often means “go-to until you burn out.” - Sometimes keeping quiet is smarter than being the hero.
You don’t have to jump in for every issue. Not every silence means you are blur. Sometimes it just means you are protecting your own energy.
But here is the uncomfortable truth.
Act blur is a survival strategy, not a growth strategy.
It keeps you safe.
It keeps you invisible.
It keeps you average.
In the army, that might be wisdom.
In life, it becomes a ceiling.
The SAF taught me how to act blur.
Life taught me when to stop.
Because if you act blur for too long, one day you wake up and realize:
You didn’t avoid extra work.
You avoided your own potential.
