The Timing Trap: Small Delays, Big Costs

Timing is a curious thing, isn’t it? It’s the subtle yet critical difference between simply showing up and actually taking action at the right moment. And that difference hit me squarely in the chest recently, as my wife and I navigated a kitchen renovation, a series of small frustrations, and, unexpectedly, some big-picture insights about life.

Let me set the stage.

The kitchen was finally “done.” The contractor signed off, I signed off, and my wife signed off—after adding a few last-minute instructions. Done and dusted. Or so I thought. A day later, there were things that didn’t sit right anymore. And that’s the story of timing in a nutshell. It’s not just about missing the moment; it’s about the financial, emotional, and logistical costs of fixing things when the moment has already slipped by.

Coffee Machine Philosophy

This idea of timing cropped up again in the smallest, most mundane of places: the office coffee machine. It’s one of those fancy machines with fresh beans, milk, and, of course, a little tray to collect the coffee grounds—a “residue box,” if you will. The machine is polite. It gives you plenty of warnings: “Milk running low,” or “Residue box almost full.”

And yet, what do people do? They shrug. Not my problem. They walk away and leave it for the next person to deal with. Meanwhile, I can’t help myself. If I see the message, I empty the box or refill the milk. Not because I’m some coffee martyr, but because, well, I’m a user too.

That coffee machine, in its own way, speaks volumes about human nature. We see the signs. We know action is required. But often, we leave it for someone else to fix. Maybe it’s the rush of the moment or the hope that it’s not urgent enough to address right away. Either way, the small choice to ignore a task often creates an inconvenience for the next person.

The Drain and the Overflow

The same thing happened in our newly renovated bathroom. A shiny new drainage system, but with a house full of people with thick African hair, that drain clogs fast. The first person showers, sees the water rising but ignores it. The second person showers, and the water’s now at ankle height. By the time I get there, it’s practically a flood.

Again, it’s not about the specifics—it’s about the pattern. We see the signs. We shrug. We move on. And that shrug, multiplied by billions, scales up to something far bigger.

Timing on a Planetary Scale

This shrugging off responsibility, this habit of saying “not my problem,” is how we get to crises like climate change or resource depletion. The signs have been there for decades, if not centuries. Rising temperatures, food waste, mass consumption—pick your poison. And yet, we continue to treat these issues like the office coffee machine. Let someone else deal with it.

Now, I’m not here to take a side on the climate debate. I’m no expert. But I can’t help noticing the parallels. Whether it’s a clogged drain or a warming planet, the lesson is the same: timing matters.

Looking in the Mirror

Of course, it’s easy to point fingers. But if I’m being honest, my frustration with the kitchen, the coffee machine, and the bathroom drain is really about me. As the Dutch say, I have to “hand myself my own chest.” I didn’t prioritize maintenance on our house when I should have. I figured we’d sell it someday, maybe after the mortgage period was up. But when we realized we didn’t want to leave—because we love our home, our neighborhood, our view—I had to face the cost of all those delayed decisions.

We decided to renovate, and I’m glad we did. But I can’t escape the lesson: timing isn’t just about when something happens. It’s about acting before it’s too late.

The Bigger Picture

So here we are, 8 billion people on this planet, juggling big problems and small ones. Whether it’s AI, climate change, or a coffee machine, the challenge is the same: can we act before it’s too late?

Timing, it seems, is not humanity’s strong suit. But maybe—just maybe—it’s something we can work on.