Clock Out From Time to Time

I don’t envy our ancient ancestors for much. Around 15% of neolithic humans had violent deaths, and “Paul Blart: Mall Cop” had yet to be filmed. However, I do yearn for one aspect of ancient life — their sense of time.

In our fast-paced world, a clock is viewed simply as a tool, yet it exerts a stranglehold on our conception of time. The clock controls how long we work, socialize and spend time alone. However, in cultures both today and from long ago, people structured time to fit with their lives, rather than conforming their lives to time.

The latter view is a freer, less anxious way of life. I don’t dislike clocks because I detest timely responsibility — I just believe the American perspective of prioritizing completed tasks over considering people’s needs is short-sighted. 

This isn’t to say we should get rid of clocks altogether. Rather, it’s important to question how much power we give them. If clocks aren’t serving the people’s needs, then perhaps clocks and schedules as a whole shouldn’t be viewed as law.

Tens of thousands of years ago, before even analog clocks loomed over us and dictated our days, humans looked to the sun and stars for guidance. People weren’t burdened by the continuous buzzing of an alarm clock at 8 a.m. or an electronic calendar reminding them of their 2 p.m. Zoom meeting.

When time was measured with the sun, people were forced to be more lenient with their time. No one could be told off because they were five minutes late to a meeting, and there was no clocking-in to commence a day’s work. 

Despite American culture’s obsession with time, some foreign cultures have held onto this idea of leniency and flexibility. 

Anthropologist Edward T. Hall invented the monochronic and polychronic labels of time in the early 20th century. Viewing time monochronically means completing one task at a time, whereas a polychronic approach claims multitasking is superior. Polychronism is the ability to balance a social, personal and work life all at once.

Hall’s book “The Dance of Life: The Other Dimension Of Time” describes a Spanish livestock trader’s office in Northern Arizona, where he made business deals with the Navajo and Hopi Nations. 

Unlike stereotypical modern business offices, the man’s workstation was in an open area in his house, simultaneously acting as a gathering place for friends, family and work associates.

Unlike the rigid structure of a traditional workday with a designated lunch break, some people — like the Spanish livestock trader who mastered the polychronic social space — merge various aspects of their lives, ensuring no single area is neglected. This more fluid way of life emphasizes what’s in the moment over a predetermined schedule.

Polychronism values personal relationships above appointments, shunning those who justify prioritizing work over family and friends. Polychronism forces workaholics to confront their schedules — what’s the point of long, stressful hours if you’re not able to spend time with those closest to you?

Each wrist watch and clock hanging on an office wall is a symptom and reminder of the U.S.’ monochronic problem. In the monochronic time America abides by, every action is de-contextualized. For the student living monochronically, each test puts a mountain of pressure on them, yet the purpose of the degree — the education itself — is mostly lost along the way. 

We become bees in a hive mind. The clock acts as the queen, ruling over the colony. It tells the colony when to eat, work and go home. 

There’s no living in the moment. As part of their schedule, office workers work on one task for 10 minutes before moving to the next, no matter if they’re in a creative block or flow. They absentmindedly follow the clock, ignorant to surrounding circumstances. 

Employees spend 32% of their time at work doing performative tasks of little value, according to Slack’s 2023 State of Work report.

Instead of feigning productivity, employees could be more efficient by working when they feel productive and relaxing when ideas don’t strike. There’s a reason many found the COVID-19 pandemic’s work-at-home conditions to be tolerable, if not beneficial.

Of course, there are downsides to looking away from the clock. While I studied in Rome, a culture known to have more of a polychronic mindset, it was common for buses to be delayed up to thirty minutes every day. 

After all, viewing time more holistically than as data points and metrics won’t always translate to maximum efficiency — but maybe that’s not such a bad thing.

At the end of the day, we’re humans — not machines. We shouldn’t be anxious over every minute, hour and day. We don’t have to see time as wasted or gained. The sum of a life is more important than the minutes of a day.

Time isn’t a clock, but a river. It doesn’t reset when the day is done, but flows constantly forward. You can either stand in the stream, trying to carve time into a rigid schedule, or you can step in with those who’ve decided to embrace the current and see how calm the river can be.