the obsession with perfection: a diagnosis of our time

We live in an era obsessed with optimization. From the moment we wake up, tracked by applications analyzing our sleep patterns, until the instant we go to bed, after counting every calorie consumed and every step taken, we exist in a state of constant evaluation and perpetual improvement. This mindset, which initially seemed promising—after all, who doesn’t want to be the best version of themselves?—has revealed itself as an inexhaustible source of anxiety, dissatisfaction, and, paradoxically, widespread mediocrity.

We’re investing immeasurable sums in developing Artificial Intelligence, for example, while neglecting human development—intellectual, emotional, spiritual, and philosophical.¹ This represents a dangerous myopia: we’ve optimized our systems for efficiency and technological innovation, leaving our capacities for empathy, cultural understanding, and ethical reasoning largely undeveloped.

The irony is palpable: in our relentless pursuit of excellence, we’ve become slaves to arbitrary metrics, losing sight of what truly matters. As I observed in another context, “we’re forgetting how to be present and, consequently, we’re forgetting how to think in a certain sense; we’ve ceased knowing how to contemplate and how to elaborate on what we contemplate.”² This obsession with perfection isn’t merely an individual phenomenon; it has infiltrated our institutions, our relationships, and the very way we conceive of success and human value.

the hidden costs of excellence

When did excellence transform from an aspiration into a tyranny? It might have begun with the management manifestos of the 1980s or accelerated with the digital revolution’s promise of infinite optimization. Whatever its origins, the cult of excellence now demands constant tribute, paid in the currency of our wellbeing.

Barry Schwartz, in his book “The Paradox of Choice,” introduces us to the concepts of “maximizers” and “satisficers.” Maximizers are those eternally seeking the best possible option, while satisficers are content with what is “good enough.” At first glance, we might think the former would have an advantage in this competitive world.

However, reality tells a different story. Schwartz argues, and subsequent studies confirm, that satisficers tend to be happier, less anxious, and, surprisingly, often more successful in the long run. Why? Because while maximizers are paralyzed by excessive analysis and fear of making the wrong choice, satisficers move forward, learn from experience, and, ironically, often end up making better choices.

Consider the common experience of choosing a restaurant in an unfamiliar city. The maximizer spends hours reading reviews, comparing menus, and calculating distances—often ending up exhausted before the meal even begins. The satisficer identifies a place that meets their basic criteria and proceeds to enjoy their evening. Who has the better experience? Who has more energy left for the conversation that matters?

This imbalance has created a paradox: we’re more connected but less understanding, more informed but less wise, more capable but less fulfilled. How do we navigate a world where polarization increases, technological transformations are dizzying, and the challenges we face—from climate change to economic inequalities—are systemic and interconnected?

This phenomenon isn’t limited to consumer decisions. In the professional world, we see a similar dynamic. Companies that demand constant “excellence” from their employees—through relentless performance evaluations, ever-increasing goals, and the expectation that everyone should go “above and beyond”—often end up creating toxic environments that stifle creativity, undermine collaboration, and lead to burnout.

the wisdom of “good enough”

It’s in this context that the concept of “good enough,” proposed by psychoanalyst Donald Winnicott, gains surprising and timely relevance. We might speculate that Winnicott, in developing his theory of the “good enough mother,” wasn’t merely talking about parenting. He was offering a profound perspective on human development and, by extension, on how we can flourish as individuals and as a society.

The “good enough mother,” according to Winnicott, obviously isn’t perfect. She’s the opposite of perfection: she makes mistakes, sometimes fails to meet the baby’s needs, other times misinterprets signals. But—and this is the crucial point—these failures aren’t catastrophic. On the contrary, they’re essential. It’s these small frustrations, administered in tolerable doses, that allow the child to develop resilience, autonomy, and a realistic sense of self and the world.

What happens when we translate this wisdom to organizational life? Just as a mother who tries to anticipate and fulfill every need creates a dependent child, organizations that eliminate all friction and challenge may inadvertently foster brittleness rather than resilience. The “good enough” organization doesn’t shield its members from every difficulty—instead, it creates a holding environment where manageable challenges become opportunities for growth rather than sources of trauma.

Extending this concept beyond the mother-child relationship, we can see how the idea of being “good enough” has profound implications for how we live and work. Imagine a work environment where the focus isn’t on always being the best, but on being consistently good enough. Where mistakes aren’t viewed as catastrophic failures, but as opportunities for learning and growth. Where collaboration is valued above competition, because there’s no need to constantly prove one’s superiority.

What we need aren’t more isolated skills, whether “hard” or “soft”—a distinction that’s increasingly obsolete.³ We need to develop meta-competencies: fundamental capabilities that allow us to learn, adapt, and continuously evolve. These meta-skills aren’t simply higher-order skills, but transformative capacities that reshape how we engage with all other abilities and challenges.

For instance, the meta-competency of “learning how to learn” transcends any particular subject matter. It empowers us to approach new domains with curiosity rather than fear, to recognize patterns across seemingly disparate fields, and to adapt our learning strategies to different contexts. Similarly, the capacity for maintaining ethical conversations allows us to navigate complex moral terrain collaboratively, rather than retreating to rigid ideological positions or simplistic moral binaries.

This isn’t a call for mediocrity. On the contrary, it’s an invitation to a more sustainable and, paradoxically, more productive form of excellence. Because when we’re not constantly exhausted by the pressure to be perfect, we have more energy and creativity to truly innovate and grow. Might we actually achieve more meaningful excellence by aiming for “good enough” than by exhausting ourselves in pursuit of an impossible perfection?

the fallacy of “do what you love”

One of the greatest deceptions generated by our obsession with excellence is the mantra “do what you love and you’ll never work a day in your life.” This idea, repeated ad nauseam in motivational speeches and LinkedIn posts, is not only unrealistic but potentially harmful.

The solution proposed for those dissatisfied with their jobs is frequently “become an entrepreneur!” As if that were the path to finding what you love and, in a spectacular error of logic, stop doing chores and achieve eternal satisfaction. These are promises from the Universal Church of Entrepreneurship,⁴ or the “unicorn hunters.”

However, as Byung-Chul Han argues in “The Burnout Society,” modern entrepreneurs often become “slaves to themselves.” Without the limits imposed by an external employer, many entrepreneurs work endless hours, sacrificing health, relationships, and quality of life on the altar of success.

I’ve witnessed this firsthand with close colleagues and friends who left corporate jobs to “pursue their passion,” only to find themselves working longer hours with greater uncertainty and often less financial stability. Their Instagram profiles might showcase freedom and fulfillment, but private conversations reveal a different reality: anxiety about the next client, exhaustion from constant self-promotion, and the blurring of all boundaries between work and life.

Between the stress of working for others or being an entrepreneur, it’s difficult to say which scenario generates more tension and anxiety. The Korean philosopher even suggests that the self-employed may be in a worse condition than those working for others. The illusion of the former will be greater, more installed, and more ego-syntonic. True freedom, I suggest, isn’t found in finding the perfect job or, necessarily, in being your own boss, but in developing a healthier and more balanced relationship with work itself.

What if, instead of seeking work that never feels like work, we acknowledged that all meaningful endeavors involve elements of difficulty, boredom, and frustration? What if we recognized that even activities we love—parenting, creating art, pursuing sports—contain aspects we don’t enjoy? A healthier approach isn’t to eliminate work’s challenges but to develop the capacity to engage with them constructively, supported by adequate rest and renewal.

the myth of the perfect leader: why we need good bosses, not superheroes

In today’s corporate world, few words are as venerated as “leadership.” Books, seminars, and training programs promise to transform ordinary managers into visionary leaders, capable of inspiring and motivating teams to achieve the impossible.

But what if this obsession with exceptional leadership is part of the problem? What if what we really need aren’t charismatic leaders, but simply good bosses?⁵

Knowing how to set realistic goals, offer constructive opinions and suggestions, resolve conflicts, and ensure that work is done efficiently and healthily are crucial capabilities that aren’t always charismatic, but are indispensable.

What we need, therefore, aren’t corporate superheroes, but rather good enough bosses. Based on the material provided, we can identify some key characteristics of good management:

1. Listening and Empathy: Good bosses aren’t in a hurry to express their opinions or to stifle discussions. They’re genuinely curious about what others think and feel. They’re patient, respect different rhythms, availabilities, and capabilities.
2. Openness and Accessibility: They’re accessible and not defensive in the face of complaints, which generates trust and improves the flow of information in the team.
3. Awareness and Competence: They’re aware of their own capabilities and limitations. They understand the work they supervise, including its difficulties and complexities.
4. Foster Development through Conversation and Relationships: They praise generously and criticize with kindness and firmness. They identify and nurture the potential of their people, supporting their continuous development.
5. Resource Management: They preserve resources, including emotional and psychological ones. They respect others’ time and mental space, without demanding proof of loyalty that compromises well-being.
6. Strategic Vision and Courage: They have the courage to say “no” when necessary, even running short-term risks. They keep in view both immediate and long-term needs.

By embracing the concept of being a “good enough boss,” we can create healthier, more productive, and more satisfying work environments. This doesn’t mean lowering standards or accepting mediocrity. On the contrary, it means establishing realistic and human expectations that allow sustainable growth and true development, both for individuals and for organizations.

conclusion: a “good enough” revolution

So, how can we navigate this world obsessed with perfection without succumbing to its destructive pressures? I suggest a conscious and intentional return to the concept of “good enough.” Philosopher Kate Soper claims that such a movement is part of the search for a new hedonism, in her book “Post-Growth Living.” This doesn’t mean abandoning ambition or accepting mediocrity, but rather recognizing that perfection is unattainable.

Some might object that embracing “good enough” represents a dangerous lowering of standards, especially in fields where excellence seems non-negotiable—healthcare, aviation, structural engineering. But this misunderstands the concept. “Good enough” isn’t about compromising on quality where it truly matters; it’s about recognizing where perfectionism becomes counterproductive and distinguishing between essential standards and arbitrary optimizations.

Let’s imagine a world where “good enough” was truly enough. A world where we could enjoy leisure without guilt, where creativity was valued for itself and not for its profit potential. Where we could accept that, sometimes, doing our best is enough, even if that best isn’t perfect.

This isn’t a world of mediocrity or stagnation. On the contrary, it’s a world of genuine innovation, authentic human relationships, meaningful and sustainable work. It’s a world where we have the freedom to experiment, fail, and learn, without the crushing weight of the expectation of constant perfection.

The “good enough” revolution isn’t a surrender to our laziest impulses, though it implies recognizing their existence. It’s a conscious rejection of the toxic mentality of growth at all costs, an affirmation of our right to a balanced and meaningful life. It’s a form of resistance against a system that wants us always productive, always optimized, always consuming.

In the end, true excellence might not be in being perfect, but in being authentically, imperfectly, wonderfully human. I’ve often heard my friend and mentor Luis Carchack say that “we humans are beings perfectly designed to be imperfect.”

By adopting this mindset, we aren’t lowering our standards, but redefining them in a healthier and more sustainable way. We’re recognizing that a person’s value isn’t in their ability to achieve perfection, but in their humanity, their ability to learn, grow, and contribute meaningfully to the world around them.

This paradigm shift has the potential to transform not just our individual lives, but also our organizations and societies as a whole. Imagine companies where the focus is on creating sustainable long-term value, instead of maximizing short-term profits at all costs. Imagine schools where the goal is to nurture curiosity and love of learning, instead of producing standardized test machines. Imagine a society where success is measured not just by what we achieve, but also by how we treat others and the planet in the process.

The journey to this ‘good enough’ world won’t be easy. It can’t be achieved through weekend workshops or self-help books. It requires time, dedication, and, crucially, community dimension. Like any important change, it works better when not done alone. We need to create safe spaces where we can develop these fundamental capabilities, where we can practice the art of being good enough, where we can learn from each other and grow together.

True human development doesn’t happen in silos or through pre-fabricated formulas. It happens through a continuous process of learning, reflection, and practice—a process that honors both the complexity of our time and the depth of human experience. Only thus can we develop the meta-competencies necessary not just to survive in this new world, but to shape it for the better.

Let’s move from imagination to creation. Let’s be, then, good enough. And let’s see how that can be more than enough.