If you don't have time to do it right, when will you have time

“If you don't have time to do it right, when will you have time to do it over?” So declared John Wooden, the teacher of champions, whose wisdom transcended the court of basketball and entered the realm of life itself. These words strike like a bell in the night, warning against haste, negligence, and carelessness. For in them is a truth as ancient as the earth: that labor done poorly must always be done again, but labor done with care endures. To neglect the right path in the name of speed is to invite a future burden greater than the present one.

The origin of this teaching is found in Wooden’s own life, forged in discipline and simplicity. As a coach, he demanded of his players not just talent but attention to detail. He would spend time teaching them how to put on socks correctly, for he knew that a wrinkle could cause a blister, and a blister could cost a game. This was not small-mindedness; it was vision. He saw that greatness lies in doing the small things right the first time, so that they do not return as stumbling blocks later. In this way, his saying is a call to wisdom: act with care now, lest you be ensnared later.

The ancients themselves bore witness to this truth. Consider the builders of the great pyramids of Egypt. Had they rushed their work, cutting corners in design or stone, those monuments would have long since crumbled into dust. Instead, because they took the time to do their work with precision, their structures have endured for millennia, testifying to the power of diligence. The builders may be gone, but their labor still stands, echoing Wooden’s admonition: “Do it right now, or you will never have the time to do it over.”

On the other hand, history offers us examples of ruin born of haste. The collapse of the Tacoma Narrows Bridge in 1940, known as “Galloping Gertie,” came because engineers ignored the importance of wind resistance in their design. In the rush to build quickly and cheaply, they sowed the seeds of destruction. The bridge twisted, buckled, and fell into the sea, a monument not of skill but of oversight. This tragedy is a grim reminder of Wooden’s wisdom: when you do not make the time to do things correctly, you will be forced to face the greater cost of failure.

There is also a spiritual weight in these words. Each life is but a span of fleeting days, and each day offers chances for action, for love, for labor. If we do not take the time to live well, to speak truth, to nurture relationships, then when shall we find the time to repair what neglect has broken? A kind word unsaid may never find its moment again; an act of courage delayed may vanish forever. The lesson is not only about tasks and labor, but about life itself: make the time to do what is right, because life offers no guarantee of second chances.

Thus, the teaching for future generations is clear: value thoroughness over haste, quality over speed, diligence over sloppiness. Let no task be beneath your full effort, for even the smallest duties echo into the larger whole. To do something carelessly is to dishonor your own labor and to create burdens for the future. To do it well the first time is to walk in wisdom, ensuring that your energy is spent on progress, not on correction.

Practical actions flow from this: slow your pace when needed, and give each task your full attention. Whether building, writing, learning, or loving, approach the moment with the discipline of a craftsman. Ask yourself before each act: “Am I doing this right, or merely doing it quickly?” For in that answer lies the measure of your future.

So let Wooden’s words be carried as a banner: “If you don't have time to do it right, when will you have time to do it over?” Guard your moments, for they are few, and spend them wisely, for they are precious. In diligence is freedom, in care is strength, and in doing things right is the path to greatness that needs no repetition.