There's a peculiar affliction that seems to spread through organisations, particularly as they grow. It starts subtly, a single recurring item in a calendar, then another. Before you know it, vast swathes of the working week are colonised by these gatherings. I’m talking, of course, about meetings. And in many instances, I’ve come to view them as a hidden, insidious ‘meeting tax’ levied on productivity.

I recall my early days, long before software and acquisitions became my daily bread. Whether it was cleaning the floors at a food factory or shifting boxes in a cavernous warehouse, time was directly, visibly linked to output. You did the work, you saw the result. There wasn't much call for a committee to discuss the optimal angle for a broom sweep or a weekly sync on pallet stacking strategies. The answer, as it often is, was usually pretty obvious, or best figured out by the person doing the job.

Now, I’m not suggesting a complex software business can run entirely without collaboration. That would be daft. But I am deeply skeptical of the default to a meeting, especially the recurring kind that populates calendars with an almost parasitic zeal.

I remember coaching a Business Unit manager, let’s call her Julie. Bright, energetic, deeply committed to her vertical. But her team was drowning. Their calendars resembled a particularly fiendish game of Tetris, every slot filled. They were busy, no doubt. But were they productive? When I asked Julie about the output of these numerous sessions, the answers were often… vague. "Keeping everyone aligned," "status updates," "touching base." All well-intentioned, I'm sure, but often a smokescreen for a lack of clear purpose or, more worryingly, a diffusion of responsibility.

"Julie," I asked one day, pointing to a recurring two-hour "Project Synergy" meeting on her whiteboard, "what number comes out of this meeting? What decision is made, what resource is allocated, what metric moves, because these specific people spend these specific two hours together every Tuesday?"

She paused. It's a question that often stops people in their tracks. Because for many meetings, the uncomfortable truth is that no specific, quantifiable number or immediately actionable decision does emerge. It’s become a ritual, a habit. The meeting tax.

We started to dissect her team's schedule. For each recurring meeting, we asked:

1. What is the explicit, unavoidable purpose of this gathering? If it can’t be stated in a single, clear sentence, that's a red flag.
2. Who absolutely needs to be there? More attendees rarely mean better outcomes; often, it just means more opinions and slower decisions. Parkinson's Law has a cousin for meetings: work expands to fill the time available, and discussions expand to include the number of people present.
3. What is the desired, tangible output? A decision? A plan with assigned actions and deadlines? A specific problem solved? "Awareness" is not an output.
4. Could this be achieved more effectively otherwise? A well-written email or memo? A quick five-minute stand-up for a specific, small team? A direct conversation between the two or three people actually responsible for the decision?

My physics training, I suppose, instilled a deep appreciation for elegant solutions and the stripping away of unnecessary complexity. If a system is producing a lot of heat (i.e., activity, meetings) but not much light (i.e., results), something's inefficient.

Julie and her team started culling. The "Project Synergy" meeting? It turned out most of its 'synergy' could be handled by a shared document updated by project leads and a 15-minute huddle for critical roadblocks only when they arose. The weekly "All-Hands Status Update"? Replaced by a concise weekly email summary from Julie, with individuals empowered to follow up directly on items relevant to them.

The results were, as you might expect, rather good. Hours were reclaimed. People had more time for focused, deep work – the kind that actually builds value in a software business. Decisions, when meetings were held, became sharper because the purpose was clear and the attendees were essential. The meeting tax was reduced, and the BU's effective 'disposable income' in terms of productive hours went up.

This isn't about abolishing meetings entirely. Strategic discussions, complex problem-solving with diverse inputs, and genuine team-building sessions have their place. But they should be the exception, the high-value interactions, not the default mode of operation. For much of the day-to-day, the answer is indeed a number, or a direct action taken by an empowered individual.

So, I'd encourage you to look at your own calendars, and those of your teams. Ask the hard questions. Is this meeting a vital engine of progress, or is it just another tick on the meeting tax form? The pursuit of lean, agile operations demands we constantly challenge these ingrained habits. Often, the most productive meeting is the one you don't have.