We live in an age of extremes. From super-sized meals to binge-watched television series, from the relentless pursuit of maximalist productivity to the embrace of radical minimalism, our culture often seems to operate at the poles. We are either all in or all out, burning the candle at both ends or not lighting it at all. But what of the vast, fertile, and profoundly underrated territory that lies between? What of the 25%? This is the domain of the Quartist.
Quartism is not a formal philosophy found in dusty academic textbooks. It is a quiet, pragmatic, and deeply personal approach to life, work, and creativity. It is the conscious, deliberate decision to engage with something not to the point of exhaustion (100%), not even to a level of committed mastery (75-80%), but to a purposeful and satisfying 25%. It is the art of the dabble, the science of the sample, and the wisdom of knowing that sometimes, a quarter of a whole is more than enough to furnish a life with richness, variety, and sustainable joy.
The Tyranny of the Whole and the All-or-Nothing Fallacy
To understand the Quartist, we must first diagnose the ailment of our modern mindset: the tyranny of the whole. This is the pervasive belief that if something is worth doing, it is worth doing completely, perfectly, and obsessively.
Consider a common example: fitness. The narrative is familiar. You decide to get healthy. The all-or-nothing mindset dictates that you must now join a gym, commit to five days a week, overhaul your diet entirely, hire a personal trainer, and buy a new wardrobe of athletic wear. For two weeks, you are a paragon of sweat and discipline. Then, life happens. A busy week at work means you miss three sessions. You feel you’ve failed. The entire structure, built on a foundation of 100% commitment, collapses. You abandon the project entirely, returning to 0%. The cycle repeats.
The Quartist approach is radically different. The Quartist decides that a 25% improvement in fitness is a magnificent and worthy goal. This might mean a fifteen-minute walk each day. It might mean choosing to take the stairs. It might mean doing ten push-ups each morning. It is sustainable, manageable, and most importantly, it is not vulnerable to catastrophic failure. A Quartist who misses a day doesn’t see a collapse of their entire regime; they see a 24% effort for that week, which is still a resounding success. They have built a system that is antifragile.
This principle applies everywhere. The aspiration to read more leads many to set a goal of 50 books a year, a daunting figure that can make reading feel like a chore. The Quartist aims for 15 minutes of reading a day. Some days it becomes an hour, some days it’s just the fifteen minutes. But at the end of the year, they have read consistently and enjoyably, without pressure, and have likely consumed more than they would have if they’d abandoned their 50-book goal in February.
The Quartist in Creativity and Learning
In our creative and intellectual pursuits, the pressure of mastery is immense. We are told to find our passion and grind until we become the best. This is, for most, a surefire way to kill joy. The beginner guitarist dreams of playing stadium solos but is quickly frustrated by the painful fingertips and the slow progress of chord changes. The 100% goal is so distant it becomes demoralizing.
The Quartist picks up the guitar with a different aim: to learn enough to play a few campfire songs and derive pleasure from the act itself. They commit to 25% proficiency. They practice not for hours each day, but for ten or twenty minutes, consistently. They celebrate small victories—a clean G chord, a simple melody. Their goal is not external validation or professional mastery, but the intrinsic joy of the activity. This 25% engagement is often the key to long-term adherence; it keeps the flame of curiosity alive without smothering it with the weight of expectation.
This approach liberates us to try more things. A wholeist can only dedicate themselves to one or two pursuits in a lifetime, for 100% of anything consumes all available resources. A Quartist, however, can be a 25% gardener, a 25% watercolourist, a 25% chess player, and a 25% baker. Their identity is not fractured but enriched, a tapestry of diverse interests that provide continuous novelty and stimulation. They are a lifelong learner, not a master of one, but a joyful dabbler in many.
The Economics of 25%: Combating Consumerism
Quartism is also a potent antidote to the engine of consumerism, which thrives on convincing us we need the whole, the complete, the entire set. The tech industry sells us smartphones with 512GB of storage and a hundred features we will never use. The fashion industry tells us we need a capsule wardrobe for every season and occasion. The kitchenware industry convinces us we need a unitasker for every conceivable culinary task.
The Quartist resists. They ask a simple question: “What 25% of this product’s functionality will I actually use?” They buy the phone with adequate storage, not the maximum. They cultivate a small wardrobe of versatile, loved items rather than a bursting closet of situational outfits. They cook with a well-used chef’s knife, a pot, and a pan, knowing that these three tools can prepare 95% of the meals they will ever want to eat.
This is not cheapness; it is a refined and intentional form of consumption. It values utility over spectacle, experience over ownership. The money and mental energy saved by not pursuing the superfluous 75% is then freed up to be invested elsewhere—in experiences, in savings, or in other 25% pursuits. The Quartist understands that owning 100% of a thing often means it owns 100% of a portion of your life, through maintenance, worry, and upgrading.
The Social Quartist: Depth Over Breadth
Even our social lives are not immune to the quantifiable pressure of the whole. Social media encourages us to collect friends and followers, to broadcast our lives to a wide but shallow network. We feel compelled to say “yes” to every invitation, to maintain countless connections, often at the cost of our energy and authenticity.
The Quartist seeks a different social arithmetic. They understand that no one can be a 100% friend to hundreds of people. Instead, they consciously invest their social energy into the most meaningful 25% of their relationships. This doesn’t mean callously discarding acquaintances, but rather being intentional about where they pour their deepest emotional resources. They prioritise a few hours of deep, uninterrupted conversation with a close friend over a night of milling about at a large party. Their social circle may be smaller, but it is fortified with trust, understanding, and mutual support. It is a network built on quality of connection, not quantity of contacts.
The Philosophical Underpinning: Sufficiency and the “Good Enough”
At its heart, Quartism is a philosophy of sufficiency. It is a rebellion against the cult of “more” and the anxiety of “not enough.” It finds profound satisfaction in the “good enough.” This is not a philosophy of mediocrity, as its critics might charge, but one of profound wisdom and self-awareness.
The Quartist knows that for most things in life, the law of diminishing returns is ruthlessly efficient. The effort required to go from 0% to 25% is minimal and yields enormous gains in satisfaction, knowledge, and ability. The effort to go from 25% to 95% is Herculean, and the effort to squeeze out the final 5% to reach 100% is a Sisyphean task often reserved for true geniuses and maniacs—and the two are often indistinguishable.
By embracing the 25%, we reject the exhausting and ultimately futile pursuit of perfection. We accept our beautiful, flawed, and multifaceted humanity. We make room for error, for off-days, for rest, and for the simple, unoptimised joy of being.
Becoming a Quartist doesn’t require a grand manifesto or a life-upheaval. It starts with a simple shift in perspective. The next time you feel the pull of an all-or-nothing commitment, pause. Ask yourself:
- “What would a sustainable, enjoyable 25% effort look like?”
- “What is the core, essential part of this that I truly need or want?”
- “Will pursuing the whole add value, or simply add stress?”
Embrace the quarter-hour walk, the chapter a night, the simple recipe, the brief, meaningful check-in with a friend. Build a life not of monolithic achievements, but of a thousand small, sustainable, and deeply satisfying quarters. In the aggregate, this mosaic of 25% pursuits creates a life of remarkable breadth, resilience, and contentment. It is in the sum of these parts that the Quartist finds not fragments, but a whole that is truly complete.
Anderson