Meetings: Are They Time Well Spent?
© Howard Gardner 2025
I don’t travel anymore. Or, more precisely, my wife Ellen and I don’t take airplanes anymore. Our last flight (in September 2022) was to honor the memory of a treasured friend. We still drive and take various forms of public transportation, but we spend upwards of 90% of our time at our home in Cambridge. We work there at our own pace, see family and friends, and go frequently to our offices at nearby Project Zero, a research group at Harvard where we first met over half a century ago.
Why share these strands of information? It’s because, just recently, I reflected on how much time I’ve spent in the last several decades going to meetings—almost always by plane, typically for just a few days, to meet with colleagues and transact various forms of business.
In truth, I came to take such meetings so much for granted that I stopped being cognizant of them—like eating, breathing, sleeping, or (not as frequently as I should have) exercising.
It might seem that planning and attending meetings is something that people always did. But that would be misleading and, indeed, hyperbolic. For one thing, meetings are more frequent and more salient in democratic societies than in autocratic ones—in the latter case, decisions are made by the figures in authority, with others just following suit. In the early 1830s, the recently established United States provided the principal example of what French observer Alexis de Tocqueville termed “voluntary associations”—and so our country set a high standard for the importance and frequency of meetings.
Also, to an extent that it’s hard for any young person to understand, a great deal of business used to be conducted by mail—or what we might have termed “post”. Telephones (even telegraph) only became important in the 20th century, and, of course, radio, television and internet are entirely 20th century phenomena. Mail could be pursued leisurely—and most correspondents put a considerable effort into communicating clearly (and legibly!) Before moving a few years ago to a smaller home, I went through my own files and those of my mother and other relatives. I was amazed by how much business was transacted by post—sometimes a few postal cards a day! And before placing long-distance telephone calls, I was warned by family members to “keep it short…get to the point…the [weekly or bi-weekly] call is getting costly.”
Why this background? Because I have been reflecting on whether the time spent getting to meetings, attending those meetings, returning home, making up for lost time (on work, interacting with family—and sleep!) was time well-spent.
Realizing that I am a sample of one—and perhaps atypical—let me chronicle the kinds of meetings that I attended over the last fifty plus years (roughly 1970-2020).
At the beginning, I attended meetings almost entirely as a fledgling member of a professional group—in my case psychology, developmental psychology, neuropsychology (especially aphasia), and, before too long education (with sub-divisions, like arts education, assessment, curriculum, etc.). I wanted to meet peers, listen to celebrities—of the academic variety—while they were still alive and worthy of celebration, and, to the extent possible, deliver papers or participate on panels.
Right from the first, I preferred small, intimate meetings over larger ones (e.g., the Society for Research in Child Development, rather than the American Psychological Association; the Aphasia Academy rather than the Society of Neuroscience).
After a decade or so, new options arose. I was invited to join groups that were more selective—for example, the International Neuropsychology Symposium. As well, I was asked to assume leadership roles—which I did for the Aphasia Academy and the National Academy of Education. I did not particularly enjoy these more public roles (at most, I am a compensated introvert); but I tried to carry them out in a responsible way—both because I like to fulfill expectations and because I cared about the health of these organizations.
Well into middle-age, I was fortunate to have other options. These fell into three categories:
Howard Gardner at the Aspen Institute’s Ideas Festival, July 2009
1. Societies that involved scholars from diverse fields—these brought back to memory my college days, when I delighted in listening to and learning from scholars in natural science, social science, humanities, the arts, as well as professions like law and journalism.
2. Board membership in an institution of higher education (Amherst College); an arts institution (The Museum of Modern Art); and a philanthropic institution (e.g., the Spencer Foundation, focused on supporting research in education).
3. Invitations to attend public forums that covered the intellectual and political landscape, and allotted slots for social scientists and educators—these included the World Economic Forum (at Davos in winter) and the Aspen Institute (in Colorado in summer).
It’s not easy for me even to type these words. It makes me feel like I’m showing off. I realize that I was privileged—as a rising professional—to be offered these opportunities. Moreover, even though honoraria were rare (and, in my judgment, inappropriate), my transportation and housing expenses were typically reimbursed.
I have yet to mention two other kinds of meetings:
Ad hoc groups, set up to deal with new opportunities or new challenges
Meetings with colleagues to collaborate on research projects. Indeed, to pick the most salient example, with respect to our thirty-years study of “good work” and “good citizenship,” I am certain that I went to scores, if not over one hundred meetings. Colleagues reflected on what we had learned, corrected course as appropriate, and planned new initiatives.
However, my purpose in sharing these thoughts is not to celebrate—indeed, quite the contrary.
Having reached seniority, I’ve begun to wonder to what extent these meetings were actually “time well spent”—putting aside the social benefits of meeting person-to-person in a convivial atmosphere. I’ve come to realize that I actually went to many meetings (or even sets of meetings) which were not time well spent, indeed might even be deemed “a waste of time”. Lest you think that I’m stretching here, I recently remembered two sets of meetings (one in the 1990s, another in the 2000s) that had been totally forgotten—which certainly raises the question of whether they were worthwhile!
With the advent of COVID, on the one hand, and the availability of Zoom and other communication networks on the other, much of what used to be accomplished by airplane rides, taxis, hotel and meal expenses can now be accomplished by a small number of online meetings—at a fraction of the financial, ecological, and physical cost.
I recall individuals who had enormous influence on the Western intellectual tradition...
Kant walking at Königsberg
Philosopher Immanuel Kant lived in the then-German city Königsberg (now Kaliningrad, Russia) for decades and rarely ventured elsewhere. (One could set one’s wristwatch by his afternoon walks.)
So, too, French philosopher Michel de Montaigne remained secluded on his estate for a decade.
Closer to home, almost sixty years ago, I had the privilege of studying with Kenneth Burke, a literary master whose work touched many fields—and influenced many scholars. While “KB” (as he dubbed himself) was 70 years old (almost half a century older than I was at the time), I was amazed to learn that he had never left the United States! Indeed, he had largely remained in his home on the East Coast. When, still in his 70s, he made his first trip abroad, he excitedly sent me a postcard from Rome. Compared to KB, I learned to my surprise that I had been the world-traveler!
Much closer to home: At Harvard’s Project Zero, a research site where I have worked for almost sixty years, we have always had meetings in person—sometimes regularly scheduled, sometimes ad hoc. Since the pandemic, most individuals have stopped coming to work regularly—and appear in-person only for scheduled meetings…if at all.
To be sure, this arrangement is convenient for many persons—especially those who live far away or who have young children. But I think a great deal is lost when individuals do not have the opportunity to meet and chat informally—over coffee, in the hallway, or in adjoining offices. I believe that these chance encounters, which can be counted on to occur with some frequency, are very important both socially and cognitively. It’s possible that the very practice of reverting to scheduling more formal meetings actually gets in the way of collegiality, comradeship, and scholarly progress.
Takeaway
We should strive to have more informal encounters, more composition of thoughtful letters, fewer scheduled encounters, especially ones that are costly and that harm the ecology of the planet and its billions of inhabitants. Much of what used to call for extensive and expensive travel can be accomplished by old media—like letters—and new media—like Zoom.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
For comments on earlier drafts, I thank Ellen Winner.
REFERECNES
De Tocqueville, Alexis. (1835). Democracy in America, English edition. Saunders and Otley.
