The Cost of Now: How High-Speed Living Steals Our Joy

Love the quick profit, the annual raise,
    vacation with pay. Want more
of everything ready-made. Be afraid
to know your neighbors and to die.
And you will have a window in your head.

Why does a drive thru dinner from your local fast food restaurant cost far more than the price you pay at the window? As we’ll see in this article, it all depends on where and why we assign value. 

This is the second article in our series about time preference. Using something as simple as baking bread, we will explore how this economic concept plays out in modern life and why developing low time preference is so important to our mental, emotional and financial well-being.

Before we move on, it will be helpful to revisit some familiar terms. It can be easy to ascribe a particular meaning to common words like cost and value, which I use extensively in this article. However, assuming meaning also makes it easy to miss their deeper application. It’s important that we not do that. We inherently know cost and value are linked, and it’s important to understand how deep that connection goes. 

• Value: Whether you’re treasuring a keepsake, pricing a stock, or defending honesty, you’re answering the same essential question: How much is this worth to me?

Your values (convictions and principles) help determine what you value (esteem or hold dear) and even the value (price or cost) you’re willing to pay or receive.

• Cost: In medieval ledgers, the cost was that which stands against what you receive. Whether dollars, hours, or missed opportunities, cost is the counter-weight that balances your choice.

Cost is what you give up—money, time, or opportunity—each time you make a decision. 

So how does this relate to time preference? Our personal time preference is the most pure reflection of the value we assign and the cost we are willing to pay. 

Let’s also quickly revisit the definitions of both high and low time preference:

• High time preference: When we view the cost of waiting to obtain or achieve something as being too high a price to pay. Or when we place a higher value on saving time rather than money. In a word, impulsive. 

• Low time preference: When we are willing to spend time now—saving, learning, building, waiting—because we believe that returns, information, effort, or patience will enable us to acquire something of greater value and/or more rewarding later. In a word, patient.

VALUE OVER CONVENIENCE

We live in a time of great convenience, with access to nearly every tool, product, resource, or service at the click of a button. As a result, we can accomplish many things in a short amount of time. Often this is appropriate and beneficial, but it also encourages a high time preference mindset, causing us to believe everything should be quick and easy. And, as a result, we begin to value the quick and easy without realizing what’s happening.

But what about the things which should be neither quick nor easy? We should be careful not to fall into the trap of exchanging convenience for value, valuing convenience above all else. There are many things that just take time, and which are very much worth the wait. 

Some Things Just Take Time

A few years ago my wife began making sourdough bread. It’s a fascinating process, and a great example of a low-time-preference approach as it relates to food.

Sourdough begins with the starter—a small jar of flour and water kept alive by daily feedings. Many mornings my wife will stir her starter, adding a spoonful of fresh flour, and leave it on the counter to wake up while she does the same with her morning coffee.

On those days when she’s preparing a fresh loaf, in the late afternoon she’ll fold the starter into more flour, water, and a pinch of salt, only to then allow more time to pass while the dough rests, quietly rising in a bowl on the counter. Throughout the evening she’ll return to stretch and fold it. The entire process is a balance of effort and patience. At the end of the day, just before bed the shaped loaf goes into a basket, covered, and spends the night in the cool fridge allowing the flavors to further deepen.

The next day the dough goes into a dutch oven that has been preheating for 45 minutes, and cooks for another 35 minutes. Steaming, the crust cracks, and the kitchen smells like something that should never be forgotten, without a hint of convenience. And then we wait another hour —long enough for the crumb to set —and finally we slice into the warm bread. Butter melts into each pocket, and then we swirl ribbons of honey from our family's beehives into pools on top.

From first feeding to first bite spans almost two days. Its a rhythm that can’t be rushed, yet the reward is unmistakable: flavor, easy digestion, health and a shared ritual that reminds us good things are worth the wait.

This is similar to a backyard garden—established in the spring, tended through the summer and harvested as fall approaches. A garden requires vision, planning, effort, care and patience. The result: fresh vegetables for dinner (and if you’re so inclined, canned tomatoes, pickles, sauces and salsas throughout the winter). It’s healthy, sustainable and satisfying food that provides for  family and friends for many months of the year. 

Decisions like these nurture family bonds. They provide a common purpose and a shared experience. Furthermore, baking bread and preparing homegrown vegetables tends to prioritize sharing meals together around the dining room table. Does it take time? Sure. Is it convenient? No. But the long term value is both high and multifaceted. This is quintessential low time preference. 

Quintessential high time preference is fast food drive thru dinners, on the go as we hurry to the next event on today’s agenda. It’s certainly convenient, and relatively inexpensive. But the cost goes beyond the price we pay at the window. 

Am I arguing that modern conveniences are bad? I am not. I am saying that they come at a cost. Every decision we make is an exchange. It is a demonstration of where we place value. And that is really the question - where do we place value and what are the costs of the decisions we make?

Why Low Time Preference Feels Hard (and Why It’s Worth It)

In our work as financial planners and stewards of family capital, there have been occasions where we’ve seen potential fortunes rise— and then quietly unravel—because of high time preference thinking: choosing today’s comfort rather than cultivating tomorrow’s harvest. 

Low time-preference thinking is the thread that weaves together disciplined investing, resilient family governance, and a life that feels purposeful. If you grasp it, cultural and market noise begins to grow faint, decisions gain clarity, and your resources have the opportunity to begin compounding in ways ‘you only live once’ culture can’t match.

It’s true, low time-preference living asks you to do the inconvenient and sometimes uncomfortable thing now—save, study, stay disciplined—while the payoff can remain invisible for years. That tension is real, but so are the dividends.

Why It Matters

At the beginning of this article is a stanza from a poem by Wendell Berry titled, “Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front." In it, Berry reminds us that a life spent seeking quick profit and shallow comfort leaves us with little more than a view through a window in our head—instead of establishing roots in real, lasting value. Those lines, like this article, are not a critique—they’re an invitation: to slow down, see clearly, and reclaim a way of living where value grows quietly, over time.

Being aware of our own time preference isn’t about baking bread or saving money. It’s about reclaiming agency in a culture that commodifies your attention and rushes your decisions. It’s about choosing to become a steward, not a consumer.

When you slow down enough to let value build over time, your decisions start to align with your values—and your life will begin to reflect the kind of legacy you actually want to leave behind.

At Sequoia, we believe in this long game. Whether we're helping families plan their financial futures or designing estate strategies that protect generations, our work is rooted in this same idea: what matters most often takes time—and is always worth it.

Start Small. Stay Curious.

If this idea resonates with you, take the low time preference approach and set aside 15 minutes this week to reflect on one area of life where patience could pay off. Better yet, talk to someone you trust—your spouse, your advisor, a close friend—and ask:

What’s one small change I could make today that might bless my future self a year from now?

Start there. And if you'd like a sounding board, or you're curious how this kind of thinking could shape your financial future—we’re here to help.

*A huge thank you to Michael Lindemann for his significant contribution in crafting this article.