Call me old fashioned, but… I like to be punctual. I’ve always been the one to arrive almost an hour early to functions due to the hour of leeway I habitually plan for unforeseen circumstances. Call it paranoid, but even the thought of being 5 minutes late to work makes me feel physically ill.
I attended an NGen training session in Pyrmont the other month. Coming from way out West (Blacktown - Yes, I live in Blacktown and still live to tell the tale!) Pyrmont isn’t exactly an ideal destination for public transport warriors like I. For those of you not privileged enough to feel constantly violated in a crowded peak hour train every morning, Pyrmont is best reached via taxi.
Being in my first year of the industry, and as apprehensive as I am to taint my professional reputation, in true form to myself I checked and compared train timetables, checked Google maps for an estimated taxi ride duration, and then added an extra half an hour to my trip “just incase”.
Thinking it was a good idea to travel there with someone, I organised with a colleague new to the industry and to full time work to meet at our office at 8:00am, ready for an 8:30am start. (I figured I had to compromise in order to accommodate for someone who wasn’t used to my sense of timing).
I made my intentions to be punctual very clear from the start, and the morning of the training session called my colleague just before 8 to make sure they were running on schedule.
...They weren’t.
They conveniently forgot to inform me they missed the train, and were now scheduled to get to the office at 8:20am, leaving us only 10 minutes to get to the location.
Nauseated by the prospect of being late, and conflicted with my moral compass, I finally decided to inform my colleague I was going to leave without them and meet them at the venue.
Arriving somewhere late, or even right on time denies me the golden opportunity to scope out potential members for group tasks, get amongst the complimentary breakfast, choose a good seat and all those other important things.
My colleague finally arrived over half an hour late, clearly upset with me for leaving them behind, resulting in brutal silent treatment. I almost felt guilty before reassessing the situation. Not only were they in the wrong; but they were angry at me for wanting to do the right thing?
Time is everyone’s most valuable commodity. The phrase ‘time is money’ is an understatement. You can’t reuse, exchange or earn back time. Once spent, it’s gone for good. When you agree to a time with someone, they are trusting you, and vice versa with a finite resource. A lack of punctuality or being late is a breach of that trust. Beyond just a breach of trust and a lack of professionalism, it says to them and those around you that not only do you not care for or value your own time, but you don’t care for or value theirs either.
If this trust is broken, not only does it reflect badly on you; it blemishes your professional reputation. If you can’t be trusted with managing the basics of your own life, how can you expect to be trusted by your employer or manager with your own workload, an account, your team or the other responsibilities that are handed to you?
Maybe accounting for an extra hour of time is a bit drastic, but by demonstrating to those around you that you can invest effort into what may seem like something small, you build a much greater and significant rapport with your colleagues and superiors.
Zerah Gallardo
Universal McCann
The AdNews NGen blog: Better Never Than Late - Is time more than just money?
5 December 2011