By Jesper Lindgaard Christensen, Associate Professor, AAU Business School and union representative for academic staff in Djøf

Time passes. It can also run, even fly, but it can also move along at a snail’s pace. So time can be fast and it can be slow. I’ll come back to that.

In a world where everything seems to move at an ever-faster pace, many people find that working life is characterized by a lack of time for tasks, interruptions, demands for availability, fragmentation of tasks, and more and shorter deadlines. The concept "tyranny of time" has gained a central place in discussions about modern society and working life. In particular, Norwegian professor Thomas Hylland Eriksen used the term to point out the pressure that individuals generally experience to be constantly productive and available. He puts this in the context of its implications for research and contemplation in particular, as it hinders the deep engagement needed to achieve groundbreaking scientific advances. Although the debate has mainly focused on research, I would say that many technical and administrative colleagues will recognize the points made by Hylland Eriksen and my observations below. 

Research requires more than just intellectual capacity; it also requires time to think deeply, reflect and let ideas mature; it requires 'slow time'. However, given institutional expectations and funding structures, academics are often under pressure to produce quick results. Universities and their staff are subject to targets that promote quantitative performance, in some cases at the expense of the quality of the research. This can lead to superficial, short-term projects and maximizing the number of publications – rather than focusing on basic research. 

In terms of organizing your work, the logic of the tyranny of time means that you multitask and constantly switch between tasks, which undermines contemplation. Some researchers also report experiencing a crisis of meaning where their work feels like a mechanical task, and they question the point of even being in academia. Do you sometimes bike home from work, thinking that a large part of your day was spent answering emails? The fragmentation of tasks and a lack of time for them can cause employees to develop individual strategies, like arriving early or leaving late, working weekends/the upcoming summer holiday, etc. to block out time for the core of their work. 

Moreover, we should not underestimate the psychological impact of the tyranny of time. Having to constantly juggle administrative demands, publication pressure and teaching responsibilities can trigger stress and burnout. This can lead to a vicious cycle where mental exhaustion further reduces the ability to think clearly, deeply and creatively. 

Occasionally we see a backlash against the tyranny of time. Some universities have realized the necessity of protecting research time. For example, at AAU, we have talked about the necessity of promoting better, not more, publishing. In addition, a trade union has proposed that 'Time for Research' should be included in the package of collective agreement demands that will be negotiated in six months. But the backlash is insufficient; the problem remains. 

The question is, what to do about it? There is undoubtedly a need for a culture change, and it is as obvious as it is easy to say – and not very specific. Can’t we do something more tangible and operational? I think we need to promote a different culture, but at the same time, perhaps it is high time (!) to open a dialogue about a time policy for your department (or other entity – faculty, university). We have policies for many big and small things. My own department has a policy for office curtains, i.e. who is allowed to have which screens in the offices. That’s not a bad thing. But currently discussions on working time agreements, working hour standards, reforms of job content and working methods and much more have begun, and this raises the question of whether we should also look at how time is used and whether something can be done structurally to protect the 'slow' time. Because when it comes to the struggle between 'fast' time driven by external demands, and slow time with space for contemplation driven by employees themselves, fast time usually wins out. 

Inspiration for a dialogue on a time policy may come from literature, including Hylland Eriksen, who provides examples of elements of a time policy. But there is also inspiration to be drawn from practice, including from organizations in both the private and public sectors that have already taken steps towards a time policy, with rules on emails, accessibility, sabbaticals and much more. 

But do we dare? And are our relentless, firmly entrenched counting methods, for measuring both performance and time, a barrier to even having a conversation about it?

Translated by LeeAnn Iovanni, AAU Communication and Public Affairs