I’ve never hit Inbox Zero. I dream about it. I imagine what I could do if every email were read, every to-do ticked off. More meetings, more intros, more things done. The mythical ultra-efficient version of me must be unstoppable.

But here’s the thing: the more efficiently I manage email, the more email I get.

Let’s say I start the day with 100 unread messages. I answer 15, archive a few, flag some for later. The next day, I’m worse off than where I started. Last week, I blocked out time, powered through dozens of old messages, and got down to just 10. Victory felt close.

Three days later, my inbox was back to 150.

What happened?

Efficiency isn’t always the win we think it is

The inbox trap is a classic case of the Jevons Paradox: when we increase efficiency in how we use a resource—whether time, energy, or land—we often end up using more of it overall. Not less.

This is exactly what’s happening in agriculture.

For generations, the industry has celebrated its efficiency gains. Better genetics, smarter inputs, and precision tools have dramatically increased yield per acre, per liter, per dollar. That’s real progress.

Efficiency is often equated with sustainability—like this line from a U.S. farm trade group:

“U.S. agriculture would have needed nearly 100 million more acres 30 years ago to match today’s production levels.”

Sounds impressive. But here’s the catch: we're not actually farming fewer acres. Globally, farmland area has continued to grow—every year for the last five—even as efficiency per acre has improved.

It’s not just land. Agriculture today uses more water, more ag chem, more nutrients than ever before. Yes, we’re doing more with less per unit. But in total? We’re just doing more.

And because we’re so good at being efficient, the marginal cost of farming one more acre—or producing one more tonne—keeps dropping. So we keep expanding. That’s Jevons at work.

From Inbox to Inputs

The same thing that killed my shot at Inbox Zero—more responses leading to more replies—is happening all over the place in agriculture and agtech.  

Much of it is important progress, but we must be aware that efficiency without limits doesn’t bend the curve. It fuels it.

A friend gave me a piece of advice recently: if you’re overwhelmed, don’t chase inbox zero. Limit the use of your most precious resource. For me, that’s time. So now I give email a set block each day. And if I don’t get through it all, so be it.

What if agriculture did the same?

If land is the precious resource, and ag keeps getting more efficient, shouldn’t we be using less land over time? Shouldn’t “doing more with less” eventually mean doing less, full stop?

Especially given that we already grow enough food to feed everyone, and that global population growth is slowing faster than expected.

Instead, we’re still expanding. Still pushing. Still doing more.

Many of the enabling advancements are critically important; but we must be honest about the difference between sustainable and optimized growth.

Efficiency isn’t inherently sustainable

Efficiency isn’t inherently sustainable. Not in email, not in agriculture, not in any system without limits.

So if you’re backing innovation to improve efficiency—great. But don’t stop there. Ask:

• What problem are we actually solving?
• What behavior are we incentivizing?
• What unintended consequences might follow?

At Tenacious, we know early-stage investing is full of uncertainty. We can’t predict every outcome. But we can be intentional about what we reward and what we measure.

If we want to shift the system, we need to follow mechanisms through to outcomes. Because ultimately, efficiency isn’t the goal; resilience is.

And resilience doesn’t come from just doing more with less. It comes from knowing what enough looks like—and building systems that respect that boundary.