My first experience of the world of work started with clocking in.
As a management trainee at Harrods, I had to swipe in and out at the start and end of each day with my employee ID card. Our daily time records were scrutinised weekly by our line managers, despite giving no indication of how productively we spent our hours in between. That largely depended on whether we worked in a bustling, high-footfall department like the Food Halls or a sleepier outpost such as Lighting, or whether an A-list celebrity was in the store distracting us all with their glorious presence.
Goodbye swipe machines, hello timesheets. Fast forward 2 years and as a management consultant, not having to clock in or out felt very grown up. Instead, our contributions at work were assessed via that staple of professional service firms, the timesheet. We had to account for every minute of our working day in 6 minute increments, logging these to various time codes. One of the biggest time drains of my early consulting career was the time I spent trying to figure out the right code to charge my time to. Part art, part science, this baffling activity merited a timecode to itself. Sometimes submitting a well-crafted timesheet seemed at least as important as delivering good quality work.
I quickly learned the unspoken truth that there were ‘good’ time codes to use and other time codes to avoid. Billable codes (for client work) trumped all others. But if you weren’t 100% resourced on a project, caution was needed. The ‘admin’ time code could squash any promotion chances if it appeared too often on your timesheet. Far better to demonstrate that your time had been busily devoted to the more purposeful-sounding ‘marketing’ time code or better still, to the loftier timecode for ‘developing new intellectual capital’. Selecting time codes that would send the right signals about my contributions and ambitions honed my resourcefulness and creativity in my early career.
Old habits, new life
After accounting for my time on a daily basis at work for 17 years, this proved a hard habit to break. As a new mother, I enthusiastically embraced Gina Ford’s structured (and divisive) approach to looking after our daughter. I happily wrote out Gina’s daily routines broken down into 15 minute segments and stuck to these religiously. Our daughter thrived and we stayed sane (just). I loved the order that the routines brought to the chaos of those early months. As well as creating space for me to breathe, they enabled me to carve out small chunks of time when I could resume my professional identity and do some freelance work
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Fridges and frogs.When I returned to work more fully, running professional networks in London, my experience of time changed again. I discovered that surreal phenomenon whereby child-free time ticks by twice as fast as time spent with your child(ren). “
Seriously? Pick-up time already?” With this new two-speed time, success meant completing the most important tasks in the short fragments of time between daily travel, calls and meetings. Without being seduced by more urgent or easier tasks. Or knocks on the door. Or our fridge contents.
‘Eating the frog’ is an expression usually attributed to Mark Twain which advocates doing the most important and hardest task(s) first thing in our working day. This is far better for our cognitive functioning and our daily productivity than deferring it until later in the day or tomorrow. I’ve found it tough to stick to but like going out for a run in bad weather, I bask in my sense of achievement (and the warm glow of self-virtue) afterwards.
A new direction.
Reflecting back on the many organisations I've worked in and with, I’ve become fascinated by our attitudes and habits in relation to our time at work. Why are our working hours so much longer than in other European nations and yet our productivity is so much lower? Why are we fixated on measuring time as an input instead of valuing what we actually achieve? What drives our collective frenzy of cramming ever-increasing amounts of activity into our working hours? Surely there’s a better way of managing our time. Exploring these questions has led me, to my surprise, into a new career chapter.
I’m researching and writing a business book titled
The Future of Time. In it, I’m explaining how our culture of time at work needs to change. We can find better ways of designing organisations and collectively managing our time that enable us to be more productive, make the most of our diverse talents and live healthier, happier work lives. It’s a complex challenge with no single, quick solution. But it’s achievable. Covid 19 has already proved that we can radically transform the way we work in a very short space of time.
Maybe we can finally ditch those time stamps and timesheets too.