How long has it been since you picked up your phone and accidentally found time staring back at you? How often do alarms and alerts tell you it’s time to join a meeting, leave a meeting, or even take the chicken out of the oven? Whether we realize it or not, we have constant reminders of the time on our phones, laptops, tablets, and even watches.
This was not always the case. A century ago, very few people knew the exact time at any given moment. Personal clocks were rare and often relied on public signals such as a church bell, a town clock, or even the position of the sun to indicate the day. Time was what you experienced most freely and was often anchored in events rather than precise minutes.
My research on planning styles (Avnet & Sellier, 2011; Sellier & Avnet, 2014) identifies two broad ways that people relate to time. Some people rely on external signals, clocks, alarms, and schedules to guide them when to start, stop, and transition between tasks. I see them as hourly timers. Others rely more on an internal sense of accomplishment. They start doing something when it’s appropriate and move on when it’s done. There are event timers.
This distinction may seem subtle, but it has important consequences for how people experience the world.
For example, event timers tend to be more “in-the-moment”. Since they are not constantly monitoring the clock, they can immerse themselves more fully in their work. They attention is less fragmented and their involvement deepens. Conversely, clock timers often divide their attention. Even when working on a single task, part of their day is spent tracking time, looking at a device, anticipating the next shift, or mentally calculating how much time they have.
Another important difference relates to the sense of control. When people stop the clock to dictate when things start and end, they can feel that control is beyond them. The clock becomes the power that shapes their day. In contrast, event timers often feel a strong sense of personal agency. They feel that they are the ones who decide when the job is done and when it is time to move on.
Importantly, my research does not suggest that one approach is better than another. People tend to naturally gravitate toward a style that they are influenced by personalityculture and norms of their environment. A highly structured organization may encourage clock time, while a more flexible or creative setting may encourage event time.
However, there is an important nuance: people can temporarily replaced from one mode to another.
In laboratory settings (Avnet & Sellier, 2011; Sellier & Avnet, 2014), we can induce people to adopt clock-oriented thinking simply by surrounding them with time markers, visible clocks, countdown timers, or frequent reminders. The effect is subtle but reliable. People pay more attention to time, control its probability and tend to dictate their behavior. Usually, these effects were short-lived.
But in today’s world, the “laboratory” never shuts down.
Our digital environments constantly expose us to time. Every time we check a message, open an app, or look at the screen, the time is displayed prominently. Alerts mark our day with reminders of what’s to come. In fact, we constantly train ourselves to think of a clock timer.
For those naturally inclined towards the clock, this can be perfectly suited, efficient, organized and reassuring. But for those who are naturally event timers, this constant exposure can create a subtle but persistent sense of discomfort.
In another work I will discuss its concept suitable (Avnet & Higgins, 2006), the feeling that the way we work is in line with our natural tendencies. When there is consistency, people tend to feel that things are “right”. They feel more at ease. confidenceand well-being. When there is inappropriateeven if they can’t explain why they feel something. There’s a sense of restlessness, as if the world is pushing them into a mode that doesn’t match their natural way.
From this point of view, the proliferation of digital time markers can do more than just keep us on time. It can cause many of us, especially natural event timers, to act in a way that feels completely wrong.
So what can we do?
The first step is awareness. Digital devices are not only communication tools and labor productivity; they are also powerful psychological indicators. They shape how we experience time, often in ways we don’t consciously register. Recognizing this influence allows us to better understand why we feel rushed, fragmented, or out of sync with ourselves.
The second step is to return one degree time agency. This does not necessarily mean giving up on the schedule or rejecting technology altogether. Rather, it involves creating intentional spaces where the clock returns to the background. This may mean working on a task without visible time markers, turning off non-essential notifications, or allowing certain activities to complete until they feel complete rather than until a timer is due.
This is not about labeling digital devices as “bad”. They bring undeniable benefits, coordination, efficiency and consistency. But they also subtly change our relationship with time, often drawing us into a more externally controlled experience.
Restoring the balance means allowing both species to coexist. There are times when time is important, such as when catching a train, attending a meeting, or coordinating with others. But there must also be moments when we can go back to the time of the event, when we can listen to our inner sense of rhythm, immerse ourselves fully and decide for ourselves that something needs to be done.
Ultimately, the question is not whether we are becoming “men of the hour.” In many ways, we already are. The more important question is whether we still have the flexibility to exit this mode when it no longer serves us.
