Go ahead: Waste my time

You have probably seen studies about the number of hours, days or years we would get back if we had eliminated or added this or that in our lives. Various scenarios flash across our awareness as we realize how much time we spend -- and waste. Perhaps it's the combination of my advancing age and busy schedule that cause these things to stand out to me.

We hear things like:

"The average American, by the time he is 30 years old, has spent what would amount to five years in front of the television."

"If we got eight hours' sleep on a regular basis, research shows, we would accumulate ten more years of sleep over a lifetime."

Those kinds of stats are always fascinating and eye-opening -- even alarming.

But I would propose another study if it were possible. How much time do dishonesty and connivery suck up? We're such scheming creatures who sap the hours and days -- maybe years? -- out of people.

Think of the time we would preserve if we dealt honestly and forthrightly in business, for example.

Time to sell a house, so what do we do? We play the game: list the house at a certain price, knowing we're not going to get that price, knowing the price is too high. A potential buyer comes along, sees the price, knows she's not going to pay that price. She submits an offer much lower than the asking price, pretty sure the seller isn't going to entertain that offer. The seller counteroffers, so close to the delusional original offer that she knows the buyer isn't going to bite on that price, either. The game continues. The clock ticks. It's a little like the stock market or chess or whatever other games people play to pass the time they'll never get back. It may even be a bit fun. Yes, I know it's the "way of the world" -- but it's time we cannot get back.

Here's another one: A company representative contacts someone to do some consulting. The consultant clears her schedule, attends the meeting and is ready to talk business. The company's team sits and converses with the consultant for an hour or more, explaining what they need, how desperately they need it, and how they know that person can get the job done. The consultant shares ideas and offers expertise, detailing things he can offer to assist in meeting the goals. Everyone's impressed, ready to move forward. The meeting ends with questions about pricing, of course, because isn't that the bottom line in these shenanigans? The business representative then states the company has no money budgeted for this project that is so desperately needed "like yesterday." The consultant is left wondering, "Um, why did you call me in here, then?" So the consultant moves a chess piece or two -- or maybe just attempts to redeem the time he just lost: "No money? Interesting. Let me know what you can afford, and we'll see if we can make it work." Look, how much time would be saved if folks were just honest from the get-go? Something like this: "This is our budget. Can you accommodate? ... Yes? Great! Let's move forward." Or: "We don't have a budget. Would you spend 5 months doing this -- for free? ... No? You mean, you really don't have a thousand hours to donate? How odd!" Or, on the flip side, the consultant could say from the start, "This will cost your company $15,000. How close to that can you come?"

That scenario may seem far-fetched. Trust me; it's not, and sometimes it's done repeatedly -- same company, same consultant, who didn't learn his lesson the first time. Some are actually starting to wonder if "Go ahead: Waste my time" is written across their foreheads.

We spend hours upon hours -- or however long research would determine we spend -- on this kind of mess. It's a waste of everyone's time. It's really a form of stealing. I don't like people stealing my money, but I'm becoming even more touchy about people stealing my time. I can make more money. I can't make more time.

What would happen if we just said what we meant and meant what we said? I know that truth stuff is not quite as dramatic and flies in the face of what we've come to accept as smart business, but it sure saves time and energy, and -- imagine this -- it might even be ethical.

If we spent less time on nonsense, perhaps we would have more time to spend on the things that are worth our time, such as saying, "Good Morning," rather than jumping into our request; saying, "I'm sorry for the inconvenience" when we -- inadvertently -- have not been mindful of someone's time; saying, "Thank you" to those who have been of help to us; the list goes on.

I know this idea of honest, forthright, no-games-played interaction seems like science fiction, but I rather like it -- especially as I become increasingly aware of my time and how precious it is.

Adrienne Ross is owner of Adrienne Ross Communications and a former Southeast Missourian editorial board member. Contact her at aross@semissourian.com.