Beating the clock
A review of ‘Why Does When Matter?’ (British Museum, 1 May 2009)
It’s 8am at Whitechapel tube station in East London. The train bound for central London pulls up and people crowd on. They wait, but the train doesn’t move. People start checking their watches and frowning.
Then the announcement comes: this train will depart in a few minutes, but the train on the opposite platform – also heading west – is now ready to depart! There is a scramble as people dive across the platform and into the train before the doors slam shut. Two minutes later, the first train trundles off with a few people left inside, casually thumbing their free newspapers in the deserted carriage.
I have to admit, I’m often among those people dashing across the platform. I know the manic effort will only save me a couple of minutes. But that doesn’t stop me tripping over my fellow Londoners to get on that train. So what is happening – are we going mad?
Our modern obsession with time was the subject of a debate at the British Museum last week. The panel, chaired by Slow Down London director, Tessa Watt, grappled with the question: why does ‘when’ seem to matter so much these days?
“We all live on the clock,” said Silke Ackermann, a curator at the British Museum. “For every minute of the day, there is something we should be doing or somewhere we should be. Even if we are just at home relaxing, we are still fitting that into our schedules.”
London doesn’t help matters either, being pretty much the fastest place to live in Britain. The collective madness at Whitechapel station is played out across the city every day, with ludicrous results. Arriving on the tube platform to discover there won’t be another train for four minutes, we throw up our hands in disbelief – four minutes? But I’ve got places to be!
The madness of always trying to beat the clock was neatly demonstrated by panelist Peter Sheppard Skaerved, a classical violinist from the Royal Academy of Music. On his 300-year-old Stradivarius, Skaerved whipped through a piece which frantically repeated itself as it climbed the neck of the violin. “The piece is basically hogwash, but it contains a brutal truth,” said Skaerved. “The faster it goes, the more it seems to stand still.”
Anthropologist Brian Durrans, a founder of the Time Capsule Society and consultant to the British Museum, pointed out that time has only recently become an international obsession. “It’s difficult to imagine now, but as late as the 19th century, countries were setting their own time. And still using natural means such as the sun and moon.” Before 1855, many areas of Britain weren’t observing the time set by Greenwich – although since the most common mode of transport was still the horse, punctuality wasn’t too high on people’s agendas.
It was only once transport improved and global finance cranked into life that the world needed to get on the same clock (which many countries had done by 1911). Since then, timekeeping has gone global. “It’s good to remember – even just occasionally – that our concept of time is only something we agree to take part in,” said Durrans, “and not something that concretely exists.”
So should we be concerned about our obsession with hours and minutes? “I don’t think we should,” said Durrans. “We organise our lives around schedules and routines because they give our lives meaning – it’s part of what makes us human.”
However, Ackermann believed the most important thing is not being ruled by the clock. “We spend so much time worrying about what is happening next, but even just taking regular moments to pause and reflect can be immensely empowering,” said Ackermann.
While none of us are going to be throwing our watches in the Thames any time soon, it might just be worth remembering this point before diving onto the tube tomorrow morning.
Chris Cox
Image by Mike King
