It's 10:03 AM, and you're sitting in yet another meeting that was supposed to start at 10:00. Three minutes might not seem like much, but multiply that across hundreds of meetings and thousands of employees, and you're looking at a staggering loss of productive time. But why does this happen so consistently, even in organizations that pride themselves on efficiency?

The answer lies not in poor time management or a lack of respect for others' schedules, but in a fascinating psychological phenomenon that we like to call the "meeting time drift". We've collectively created an unspoken social contract that treats meeting start times as approximate rather than exact, and this behavior has become self-reinforcing.

The Psychology Behind the Delay

When scheduling meetings, we consistently underestimate three critical factors:

  1. Transition Time: The physical or mental shift required to move from one task to another
  2. Technical Setup: The minutes spent connecting to video calls or preparing presentation materials
  3. Social Buffer: The implicit understanding that others will be "slightly" late

The most interesting aspect is how this behavior perpetuates itself. When people expect others to be late, they themselves arrive late, creating a cycle that's difficult to break. It's a classic example of what game theorists call a Nash equilibrium – everyone's behavior is a rational response to everyone else's behavior.

The Hidden Costs

What might seem like a minor inconvenience of starting meetings a few minutes late actually cascades into significant organizational challenges that few leaders fully appreciate.

The mathematics of wasted time are staggering. Consider a company with 500 employees: if each meeting starts just five minutes late, that's 31,250 hours of paid time spent waiting annually—over $1.5 million in salary costs alone.

Late-starting meetings create a domino effect of stress throughout the workday. When one meeting starts late, it often runs over its allotted time, forcing attendees to rush to their next commitment. The impact on mental health is undeniable.

The first few minutes of any meeting are crucial. When meetings start late, these critical moments are fragmented by interruptions. Studies show that meetings that start late are 60% more likely to miss their stated objectives.

The most insidious impact is on organizational culture. When late starts become normalized, they create what psychologists call "temporal anarchy" – a breakdown in the shared understanding of time-based commitments. High-performing employees become frustrated and disengaged.

Creativity dies in the rush between meetings. When every scheduled hour runs over, employees become hesitant to schedule the kind of exploratory sessions that drive innovation.

The choice is clear: continue paying the hidden tax of late meetings, or take action to reclaim this lost productivity.

Breaking the Cycle

The solution isn't as simple as mandating punctuality.

Successful organizations have found success by making 45-minute meetings the default, giving everyone time to transition and reset between sessions.

The meeting begins precisely on time, every time—no recaps, no waiting. Those who arrive late adapt quickly when they realize they're missing critical information. They make punctuality the norm through positive reinforcement. Instead of punishing latecomers, they highlight and reward teams that consistently start on time. Success breeds success.

The key insight? Don't fight human nature—design systems that work with it.

The real reason meetings never start on time isn't about time management at all – it's about human psychology and group dynamics. Understanding this is the first step toward creating meaningful change in how we approach professional gatherings.

The next time you're waiting for that 10 AM meeting to start, remember: you're not just witnessing tardiness, you're observing a complex social phenomenon in action. And perhaps, armed with this understanding, you'll be better equipped to be part of the solution rather than the problem.