Slow is Smooth. Smooth is Fast.

In surgery, the number one cause of delays is surgeon error.  Simple small moves that have to be repeated—because they were not perfect on the first attempt—extend surgery time far more than all other causes. Extended surgery time means more anesthesia for patients, more opportunities for complications and a higher cost for the surgery center. Speed is sometimes a correlate for skill. But speed can come at the cost of accuracy and precision—rushed moves leave room for error. Going slower, and getting it right, is always much faster in the end. 

In the emergency room, speed can mean the difference between life and death. A chest tube inserted too slowly can cause a tension pneumothorax to become a cardiac arrest. Epinephrine administered too slowly can cause an anaphylactic allergic reaction to become airway swelling and respiratory arrest. But a rushed or sloppily inserted chest tube can injure major vessels nearby. Epinephrine administered too hastily can mean a dose error, or medication given unnecessarily. Speed is of course important—but accuracy of diagnosis and precise intervention avoids unnecessary, sometimes costly and potentially fatal complications.

In sports, speed can mean a win over a loss. It can mean a ball caught and a shot blocked. It can mean a summit reached or a window missed. But it can also mean a gate hooked, a ball fumbled, a misstep, a slip and a tumble. 

In fitness training, slow and steady progressions of weightlifting, balance exercises, and mobility lead to a natural growth in strength, stability, and agility. A rapid increase can lead to injury. The most common injury that comes from a rapid increase in load, for example, is stress fracture—often in a runner who too hastily increases mileage, then develops foot pain and/or a bone bruise and is then out of training for the many weeks of recovery. Achilles injuries often occur when an athlete, not training regularly, jumps from the couch to a basketball or pickleball court and their cold, tight Achilles tendon pops. 

In recovery from surgery, athletes often find themselves prizing a quick return to sport. Mistaking rapid return for successful recovery, they push to return faster than the body is ready. This can lead to reinjury and repeat surgeries. An estimated year of recovery from injury becomes two years. Returning to sport fitter, faster, and stronger doesn’t apply to the journey of recovery; it refers to the destination: the direction and the state on the other side of the rebuild. A slow and smooth recovery without reinjury is a fast recovery. 

While rushing means prioritizing speed over precision, it also diminishes listening, reflection, growth, and healing. But move too slowly and you can set the patient up for unnecessary costs and complications, a loss of momentum, or the possibility of never reaching their goals.

So how to move quickly when speed is of the essence, but accuracy is equally (or more) important? How to navigate the speed/accuracy trade-off in high consequence environments and through the rest of our lives?  

Apply the concept “slow is smooth, and smooth is fast.” Slowing down, even just a notch, invites diligence. It means execution with all supplies on hand, rather than a scramble to find missing tools mid-procedure. It permits a more insightful diagnosis, and a risky intervention avoided. Correcting a mistake is far costlier than the preemptive slow down. A slow and smooth procedure and recovery journey makes the entire experience less stressful and more enjoyable for all. 

Not all mistakes are avoidable, but the ones made because of rushing can be. So while there is objectively no more time in every second (although we often say we find it), taking a few more seconds to get it right the first time will make you better and faster in the long run. Slow is smooth and smooth is fast.