Elonomics - inneficient efficiency

Time equals money. This principle has found its way into every crevice of modern economic thinking, creating a culture obsessed with squeezing out every ounce of productivity. The goal? To ensure nothing—absolutely nothing—goes to waste, unless, of course, this wastage serves some strategic end.

Enter what we might call Elonomics: a billionaire’s ideal where everything runs at full tilt, no interruptions allowed. It’s the dream of relentless efficiency—life as a seamless machine, operating at full chat, 24/7. From the boardroom to the airport terminal, any glitch in the system feels like a betrayal of progress. Time "lost" becomes intolerable because it threatens the dream itself.

A glaring example of this obsession emerges when the hotel room is not ready. In a split second, the excited holidaygoer transforms into a rage-fueled monster, with a mouth of a sailor never before possesed by this individual. Those precious 72 hours of vacation are suddenly cut to 68. The fury feels justified—after all, this trip required effort, planning, and money. But beneath the anger lies something deeper: a worldview where every activity must pay its dues. Life itself becomes a series of transactions. Rest, creativity, and human connection are evaluated for their return on investment. Did I maximize that event for networking? Was this weekend outing worth the cost? Is this downtime productive enough?

It’s no wonder that when life operates as a ledger, every cancellation or inefficiency feels like theft. Yet ironically, the obsession with maximizing time often backfires. In trying to extract value from every moment, we become prisoners of the obsession itself. Nothing feels savored—not even the ride—because we’re too busy measuring it. What should be time to pursue passions, nurture relationships, or simply be becomes a relentless checklist of tasks.

Under the shadow of Elonomics, even spontaneity feels like a luxury few can afford. But when life is reduced to a spreadsheet, where each minute must yield a positive balance, we risk forgetting what made those moments valuable in the first place. Life's richness often lies in the unmeasurable: the unplanned laugh, the aimless stroll, the creative spark that emerges only in stillness. These moments are precious not because they contribute to a final "sum," but because they exist—independent, vivid, and whole.

Here’s the paradox: the courage to waste time is often the key to reclaiming it. Time spent on rest, on reflection, or on bettering one’s health—physical or otherwise—doesn’t vanish. It comes back. With interest. The only way to truly "optimize" life might just be to stop chasing relentless efficiency and allow some beautiful, purposeful inefficiencies to take root.

Because in the end, life is not a machine to be perfected. It’s something messier, something wilder—something meant to be lived.