If-Then Plans: Decide the Start Before the Moment Arrives
Decide in advance, not in the moment
Most failures to start do not happen at the desk. They happen earlier, in the gap between intending to do something and the moment when it is supposed to happen. You decide you will start after lunch. Lunch ends, the phone lights up, a message needs an answer, and suddenly the decision has to be made all over again — in worse conditions than the first time, when you are fuller, tireder, and already distracted.
An if-then plan moves the decision to an earlier, calmer moment. You decide in advance what you will do, when you will do it, and what will remind you. When the moment arrives, it only needs to be recognised, not debated. It is the same logic as laying out your clothes the night before: the morning version of you has one less decision to make, and one less excuse to stall.
Why "I'll do it later" is not a plan
"Later" has no shape. It names no time, no place, and no first action, so when later arrives, nothing in particular happens to remind you. The brain treats a vague intention as if it were already handled, and the easiest available thing wins the moment by default. That is not laziness, and it is not a lack of discipline. The plan simply had nothing to hold on to.
Vague intentions fail in three predictable ways, and an if-then plan is built to fix all three:
- No trigger. "Later" never announces itself, so the moment passes unnoticed. A real plan is tied to something you will actually notice: a time, a place, or an action you have just finished.
- No first step. "Work on the report" is a project, not an action, and projects are easy to put off. A real plan names one physical movement: open the document, write the first line, put the folder on the desk.
- No recovery. When something interrupts a vague plan, the plan is gone. A real plan includes what happens next if you get pulled away, so one interruption does not end the day.
The if-then formula
The formula is short enough to write on a sticky note: If a specific situation happens, then I will take one specific action. "If it is 9 a.m. and I have finished my coffee, then I will open the document and write the ugliest first line." The situation is the cue. The action is the start. Everything else is decoration.
Two rules keep the formula honest. First, the cue has to be something you will genuinely notice — a time on the clock, a room you walk into, or the moment you finish something else, like closing your inbox. "When I feel ready" is not a cue; you will never feel ready, and the plan will wait forever. Second, the action has to be small and physical, something you could finish in two minutes. A beginning you can abandon is a beginning you will attempt, and most of the time, once you have begun, you keep going.
Write the plan down where you will see it, in the exact words you will say to yourself. A plan kept only in your head competes with everything else in there. A plan on paper, on a note by the keyboard, or at the top of today's list only has to be read. And make one plan per stuck task — five plans for five tasks is useful; five plans for one task is just another way of planning instead of starting.
Five if-then plans you can steal
Borrow these as written, or change the cue and the action to fit your day. The pattern matters more than the wording: a cue you will notice, then one small physical step.
- If I sit down at my desk in the morning, then I will open the hardest task first and write its first line before I open anything else.
- If I finish lunch, then I will put my phone in another room and spend two minutes on the admin task I have been avoiding.
- If the meeting ends, then I will send the one follow-up message before I do anything else, while the details are still fresh.
- If I get interrupted mid-task, then I will write down the next tiny step on a note, so I can pick it up again without re-deciding what comes next.
- If it is 8 p.m. and the dishes are still in the sink, then I will wash for two minutes only, with full permission to stop — and let the timer decide, not my mood.
Where start/ish fits
start/ish is one option in this space, built around the minute before beginning. You unload what is circling in your head — typed or spoken, messy is fine — and it hands back one small, editable next step you can begin in two minutes, with a gentle timer running. When the timer ends, it asks the honest question: kept going, made a dent, got set up, or need something smaller? Every answer counts, and nothing tells you you are behind. If-then plans work the same way: decide the cue, shrink the step, and let the moment do the rest.
Free to try, on the App Store for iPhone now, with a 7-day free trial on the yearly plan.