I have a problematic relationship with productivity and work culture, and a lot of guilt around working too little. I could really use a book like this. But this isn’t it.
It’s just so, thoroughly, a self-help concept book. It’s like an AI wrote this, picked the buzzword to repeat every few pages. There’s the “dark night of the soul” cliche when Devon becomes burned out and despondent. The neverending examples of friends who experienced the same thing. Vague handwavey history. The weird association of “laziness” with the 1800s, or slavery, or capitalism - never really pinned down.
It’s just not great. I’d rather read a book that had more to say, or hear the words “you are doing okay” from a friend or therapist - that’d do the same thing.