The ‘Can’t Be Bothered’ Epidemic
When Effort Became Optional
Since the pandemic, I’ve noticed a shift not in me, but in people in general.
Before 2020, there seemed to be more enthusiasm in the air. More yeses. More willingness to go the extra mile, whether that was for work, for friends, or just for the sake of a good night out.
These days, I still want to be out and about, to try new things, to meet people, to keep that zest for life alive. But around me, I’m seeing more “meh.” More half-done jobs, cancelled plans, and “can’t be bothered” attitudes creeping in — not as the odd off-day, but as a default setting.
And I’m not talking about being tired now and then. This feels like a pandemic hangover, a lingering apathy that’s bled into work, social lives, and even basic courtesy.
The Case of the Blurry Glasses
A friend of mine went for a bog-standard eye test. Nothing fancy just a new prescription and some new glasses.
She tried one of the big chain opticians. Then a private one. Then another. Surely, one of them would get it right.
Instead? Three different sets of glasses, all so strong she couldn’t see a thing. She put them on, blinked, and said, “I think these are wrong.” The reply? Not “Let’s check that straight away” but “Wear them for a week and see how you get on.”
That’s like giving someone the wrong size shoes and saying, “Just walk around in them for a bit - your feet will adjust.”
Eight weeks, countless phone calls, and more shop visits than anyone should endure - still no apology, no ownership.
You’ve probably had your own version of this. The thing you’ve paid for, done badly, followed by the expectation that you will do the legwork to fix it.
Premium Gym, Budget Service
I pay a premium price for my gym because I like the “luxury experience.” Elemis shower gel, fresh towels, my favourite classes, I live a wellness lifestyle.
This week? Four out of my five regular classes were cancelled.
One class has been dropped until September because it’s “not completely full” despite 15 people turning up every week (apparently, that’s not enough to warrant keeping it on).
The other three? Instructors on holiday, no cover provided, even though they’re fully booked every week.
So, the timetable shrinks, the service drops, but the price stays the same.
If you’ve ever stuck with a service because you love most of it, only to watch the quality slide while your direct debit stays exactly the same, you’ll know how this feels.
LinkedIn: Where Effort Goes to Die
I spend a lot of time on LinkedIn - building relationships, writing posts, engaging with people’s work. You know, the point of the platform.
This week, I accepted a connection request. Seconds later, a message pinged in:
“I’m expanding my network.”
And that’s it. That’s the message. Not a “hello,” not a “I saw your work on X,” not even a generic “hope you’re having a good day.” I replied,
“Good for you.”
I think we can safely say that is the shortest connection on LinkedIn this week.
Another message invited me to speak at a conference. In the US. They’d never heard of me, didn’t know my work, and hadn’t even checked that I live on an entirely different continent. Just chucking the net out and hoping something sticks.
If you’ve ever opened a message and thought, this took zero thought, you’ll know why this isn’t just lazy - it’s off-putting.
Hospitality… But Only on My Terms
My daughter is a supervisor at two busy restaurants. They’re always understaffed. Not because the jobs are impossible, but because they “can’t find anyone who can be bothered.”
Applicants turn up not with enthusiasm but with conditions:
“I don’t do lunch shifts.”
“I won’t work weekends.”
“I don’t mop floors.”
Since when did job descriptions become a pick ’n’ mix? It’s like signing up for a football team but insisting you’ll only play if the pitch is dry and you can wear your own kit.
If you’ve ever been part of a team where one or two people carried the whole thing while others breezed through, you’ll know just how quickly morale disappears.
The Summer of No Plans
My son’s back from uni and was looking forward to catching up with his mates over the summer. He’s the organiser type - he suggests what they could do, drops it in the group chat, gets everyone to agree.
Come the day? One says he went out the night before and “can’t be bothered” and suddenly, the rest start dropping out too. Snowball effect.
Can you imagine, at 21, not being bothered to go out with your mates in the summer? In our day, you’d have been out the door before you even finished your cornflakes.
It’s more than laziness - it’s that pandemic hangover again. The social zest is gone.
The Ripple Effect of Not Bothering
You’ve probably been on the receiving end of this. The wrong order, the half-done job, the email that makes you think, did they even read my message?
This is where it stops being a small annoyance and starts rotting the foundations.
When people can’t be bothered, the consequences don’t stay neatly in their corner. They spread:
Extra burden: Someone else has to pick up the slack. Your “couldn’t be bothered” becomes their overtime.
Wasted time: Customers and clients spend hours chasing what should have been done right the first time.
Lower standards: Once you see others slacking without consequence, it’s tempting to think, Why should I bother either?
Knock-on frustration: The smallest things start to feel like big problems because you’re already at capacity from dealing with other people’s shortcuts.
It’s like everyone leaving their trolley in the middle of the car park - easy for you, but now someone else has to deal with it, and it’s blocking the way for everyone else.
And this is where the rot sets in: effort becomes optional, care becomes rare, and pride in work becomes something people talk about like it belongs in black-and-white films.
But pride isn’t quaint. It’s not some old-fashioned virtue that only matters to people polishing silverware. Pride is the thing that makes you stand taller because you know you did the job properly. It’s the quiet confidence that builds trust.
For the client or customer, pride shows up as:
Getting what you paid for - without chasing it.
Feeling valued and respected.
Choosing to come back, because they remember how it felt.
For you whether you’re the boss, the team member, or the business owner - pride gives you:
A reputation that travels further than your business card.
A sense of personal integrity that can’t be faked.
The satisfaction of knowing your work wouldn’t embarrass you if your name was stamped on it.
Without it? You’re just clocking in, clocking out, and hoping no one notices the corners you’ve cut.
A Final Reflection
Maybe this is happening because people are burnt out. Maybe it’s because we’ve replaced quality with speed. Maybe it’s because “that’ll do” is easier than “this is my best work.”
But if we’re honest, most of us have moments where we stop bothering. We dash off the half-hearted reply. We skip the final check because “no one will notice.” We think our effort doesn’t matter that much and that’s exactly how standards sink.
The truth is, we can’t fix everyone else’s attitude. But we can choose whether or not to join them.
If you want better service, better teamwork, better anything you have to bring the pride back, even if it feels like you’re the only one doing it.
Because if we all keep lowering the bar, we’ll soon be tripping over it.
Where have you seen the “can’t be bothered” epidemic this week?
And be honest - where might you have joined it without realising?