#873: David Allen — The Art of Getting Things Done (GTD) (Repost)

Hey everyone, Tim here—morning, afternoon, or night wherever you are. I’m sitting down with David Allen, the force behind Getting Things Done, whose work has shaped productivity from Silicon Valley outward, and I’m excited to finally ask him the questions I was too jittery to ask back in the 43 Folders and Lifehacker heyday.

Time stretches with good friends, so let’s just dive in and see what’s new.

You once said the brain’s for creating, not storage; can you expand on that?

Your head’s a terrible office—cognitive science shows we can juggle only a handful of items before quality nosedives, so externalize everything to stop spinning and start thinking clearly. I spent decades refining a simple algorithm—capture, then clarify what the work really is—by asking better questions instead of barking advice.

What do you do first with high-performing but overloaded execs?

We start with pure capture: set up a real in-tray, grab paper and a pen, and list every open loop from cat food to hiring decisions, tossing each sheet into the tray. That brain dump alone takes one to six hours, and we don’t organize or prioritize until it’s all out.

A Wired piece noted people feel both relief and grief after listing everything; what’s behind that?

Those items are promises to yourself, and your brain—timeless as it is—acts like all of them are due now, which tanks self-trust. You avoid that by not agreeing, doing it, or renegotiating, and you can only relax about what you’re not doing when you’ve named it and parked it, which is why I keep my backlog close to zero for the next surprise.

Where does your backlog physically live?

Mainly email, a clear physical in-tray, and a small wallet card for quick notes, plus Braintoss on my phone because it forwards straight to email instead of vanishing into app purgatory.

Why limit digital capture?

Tech is a gift and a sinkhole—too many places to stash things means lost commitments, and clicks add friction, so plenty of smart, distractible folks go back to paper for instant visibility.

Walk us through your early path—what were you into before all this?

I acted as a kid, crushed debate in high school, then spent a formative year with a family in Zurich, steeped in European art and ideas and exposed to the Beat crowd through my sister, which widened my world beyond the Shreveport default careers and nudged me from law toward the liberal arts.

And the academic track?

At New College in Florida I designed my own studies, got hooked on models of culture and thought—Spengler, big shifts—and I’ve always been drawn to how the unseen shapes the seen; my first gig at five was street magic for nickels.

How did that turn into teaching productivity to companies?

I bailed on grad school at Berkeley in ’68 to pursue inner work and real life, became a fixer in small businesses, realized that’s called consulting, and started collecting methods to keep a clear head as life got complex; years later HR at Lockheed asked for a course, we trained a thousand managers, and the corporate world became the natural home for GTD.

Who most shaped GTD?

Dean Atchiss gave me the mind sweep and the insistence on the very next action, and Russell Bishop’s Insight Seminars grounded me in the power of commitments as we adapted this work for organizations.

Explain next actions versus the vague stuff on people’s lists.

A next action is the specific visible step—call your sister, email the bank, buy nails—and if one step won’t finish it, you also name the project; capture, clarify, then organize, with the two-minute rule for quick wins.

After a big mind sweep, how do you prioritize?

I use six horizons—purpose, vision, goals, areas of focus, projects, and actions—so you can reference what matters at each level, and in practice I also ask what most has my attention right now.

Why relocate to Amsterdam?

We wanted a broader lens than the U.S., my work had gone global and virtual, the city’s gorgeous and English-friendly, and once we navigated residency we fell for bikes, parks, and dog-welcoming cafes.

Did your state of mind change with the move?

Not really—Santa Barbara was lovely too—but we felt complete with Ojai, sold our termite-tired house in a flash, used a Santa Barbara townhouse as training wheels, then made the leap.

What’s a personal investment that changed your trajectory?

Saying yes to a karate teacher with extraordinary range nudged me to leave a picture-perfect but misaligned life, choose adventure and inner work, and gradually find deeper stability.

Can you share a hard period and how you got through it?

In my early Berkeley years I felt profoundly misunderstood, acted out, spent a brief stint in a psych ward, then chose cooperation; stumbling into Shambhala Bookstore opened a world of esoteric study, I found a long-term spiritual mentor, kept my outer life simple, and deepened the inner one.

What does “spiritual” mean to you, and any guidance on meditation?

It’s the unseen layers that shape us, accessible when you quiet the noise; follow your timing and intuition, because meditation is less about forcing stillness and more about lowering the volume so you can hear.

Do you still get overwhelmed?

Of course—new commitments push you out of comfort—but I quickly write everything down, decide next moves, and get back on the board like a surfer with an ankle tether.

Any new habits that helped recently?

Nasal breathing from The Oxygen Advantage—yes, even mouth taping at night—has been eye-opening.

Book you recommend often?

Oliver Burkman’s The Antidote, a witty case for embracing uncertainty and drawing on stoicism rather than forced positivity.

What’s your typical early-morning flow outside big events?

I check the next day’s calendar the night before to protect sleep, then it’s lemon water, French press, a protein hit, dog duty, a skim of the New York Times, a quick word game, and often a ride or walk to clear my head.

What do you wish GTD readers doubled down on?

All five steps matter: capture absolutely everything, define outcomes and next actions, keep a trusted system, review weekly, and re-read the material because different layers click at different times.

If you haven’t captured and clarified most of your world, you won’t have much to review, but even then, take an hour each week to step back, reflect, and look a couple weeks ahead on your calendar. A weekly sweep keeps ambient anxiety down because memory fades after about a week, and without that reset your system goes stale fast.

Do you have any hard-and-fast no’s, and how do you spot people you’d rather avoid?

I mostly pass on unpleasant people, though that’s rare now because folks who reach out tend to be kind. I still say yes to interesting work, I just charge more and do less than I used to.

You’ve called yourself a freedom guy, yet some see GTD as rigid—how do those fit together?

A bit of structure creates freedom, like the line down the road that lets you drive fast without crashing. GTD gives you space by capturing, clarifying, organizing, and reflecting, which creative people then use for what matters—whether that’s art, strategy, or being fully present; I’ve seen it with folks like Brad Keywell, Howard Stern, Will Smith, and Robert Downey Jr.

Is the weekly review something you do alone, or can it be shared with a team or family?

Do your own private review, then consider a shared check-in to cover what has everyone’s attention as a group. I’d frame it as a collective review of commitments rather than a formal weekly review.

What tools do you use for email and saving articles or references?

I run IBM Lotus Notes with a custom layer so email doubles as my task manager, with lists like projects, agendas, calls, and someday-maybe, and I can drag messages straight into them. I’ll clip the web to Evernote now and then, but I avoid dumping; any list system works if you curate it periodically so it doesn’t become write-only clutter.

Are there quotes you live by, or a message you’d put on a giant billboard?

My screensaver says, let go, because trying to control everything is the master addiction. If I had a billboard, I’d wait to see what’s truly needed in the moment—practically, I’d remind people to get ideas out of their heads and into a trusted place.

Years ago you hoped GTD would open doors to deeper questions—do you still want people to use the space that way?

I’m not evangelizing; I offer a way to create room, and people choose how to use it, including spiritual practice if that’s their path. My compass is simple: finish what’s in front of you with excellence, and the next step will reveal itself.

Thanks for making the time across time zones; folks can find you at @gtdguy and gettingthingsdone.com—anything you’d like to share before we close?

The updated edition of Getting Things Done is worth a fresh read, and a second pass lands differently. We also have a GTD Workbook coming in September that breaks the method into ten practical moves for stress-free productivity.

Any final advice for listeners?

Enjoy life, relax your body, and let go.

Show notes are at tim.blog forward slash podcast, and you can also hop on my short Five Bullet Friday newsletter if you want a light end-of-week pick-me-up. Thanks for listening.