We schedule "quality time" with our partner for Saturday afternoon, then watch it fill with errands, a long lunch that stretches into coffee, maybe a walk that turns into window shopping.
By evening, we've been together all day but can't quite remember what we talked about. The time was there, so the relationship work expanded to fill it, without actually deepening the connection.
This is Parkinson's Law showing up in our closest relationships.
Originally observed in organizational settings, Parkinson's Law suggests that work expands to fill the time available for its completion.
In relationships, this means the emotional labor of staying connected - the real conversations, the vulnerability, the intentional presence - can stretch indefinitely when we assume we have unlimited time together.
We tend to treat relationship maintenance like a task with no deadline. Got all evening? The meaningful conversation can wait until after dinner. After the dishes. After scrolling for a bit.
Living together? We'll get to that difficult discussion eventually. The time feels abundant, so the complexity of our interactions expands to match it, often without producing the depth we're actually seeking.
This matters because time together and connection aren't the same thing.
We can spend hours in the same room and never actually bridge the distance. The law suggests we might be confusing proximity with intimacy, mistaking shared time for shared understanding.
If proximity isn’t the same as intimacy, then connection has to be designed, not assumed. That starts by giving important conversations shape instead of letting them drift.
Set artificial constraints for important conversations. Instead of "let's talk this weekend," try "let's take a 20-minute walk after dinner to discuss this." The boundary forces clarity. You'll find yourself getting to the point faster, listening more carefully, saying what actually matters.
Apply the same principle to quality time. Rather than vague "let's spend the day together" plans, create specific windows: "Let's have coffee for 30 minutes and really catch up" or "Want to cook dinner together? Just us, no phones, one hour?" The limitation paradoxically creates more presence.
When conflict arises, use time boxes. "Let's give ourselves 15 minutes to talk through this right now" often produces more resolution than "we need to have a serious talk soon."
The constraint prevents the issue from becoming an all-consuming, multi-hour spiral that exhausts you both without reaching clarity.
For long-distance or busy relationships, shorter scheduled check-ins often beat sporadic marathon catch-ups.
A focused 10-minute call where you're fully present might deepen connection more than a distracted hour-long conversation that meanders without purpose.
The shift feels counterintuitive, less time creating more connection, but we often find that constraints force us to show up more fully in the moments we have.
Did this resonate with you? Forward it on to someone who could use it too. These insights are better when shared.
Cheers,
Alex
Disclaimer: I'm a curious researcher, not a licensed psychologist. I study these concepts because I believe understanding how our minds work can help us navigate life more effectively. This content is for educational purposes only and should not replace professional advice. Please consult qualified professionals for personal guidance. Individual results may vary, and readers should use their own judgment when applying these concepts.