The Standing Meeting That Should Have Died Six Months Ago
A eulogy for the recurring invite that no one has the courage to kill
You know the one.
It’s on your calendar every Tuesday at 2 pm. Or maybe it’s the Monday morning “sync.” Or the Friday “check-in” that somehow takes 45 minutes to accomplish what a three-line Slack message could handle.
It started with a purpose. Maybe there was a project launch. Maybe a new team has been formed. Maybe someone said, “We should meet regularly to stay aligned,” and everyone nodded because nodding is easier than asking “do we though?”
That was eighteen months ago. The project ended. The team changed. The original reason for existing evaporated.
But the meeting lives on.
Shambling through your week like a zombie, consuming time, providing nothing, impossible to kill because no one wants to be the person who suggests killing it.
The Anatomy of a Zombie Meeting
You can diagnose a meeting that should be dead by its symptoms:
The first five minutes are people arriving late. Because even their subconscious knows this isn’t worth being on time for.
The agenda is the same every week. “Updates from each team.” Round-robin status reports that could’ve been a shared doc no one would read because nothing in them matters urgently.
Half the attendees are multitasking. Cameras off, responding to Slack, doing actual work while the meeting drones on. They’re not disengaged—they’ve correctly assessed that their attention isn’t required.
Decisions are never made. Things get “discussed” and then “tabled for next week” where they’ll be discussed again, forever, because this meeting is not actually a decision-making body. It’s a ritualistic gathering that serves no function except existing.
No one can articulate what would be lost if it stopped. Ask anyone in the meeting what its purpose is. Watch them struggle. “It’s good to stay connected.” “It keeps everyone informed.” Vague, defensive answers that amount to “I don’t know, but canceling it feels scary.”
Why Zombie Meetings Won’t Die
Killing meetings has social cost. The person who suggests ending a meeting risks looking like they don’t value collaboration. Or like they’re “not a team player.” Or like they think they’re too important for this. So everyone suffers in silence rather than risk the political hit.
The meeting owner’s identity is tied to it. Someone created this meeting. It’s their baby. Suggesting it should die is suggesting they made a mistake. So it lives on as a monument to someone’s ego and everyone’s conflict avoidance.
Meetings feel like work. Sitting in a meeting looks productive. Your calendar is full. You’re “busy.” The meeting provides a socially acceptable way to fill time without having to produce anything. This is the darkest truth: some people prefer the meeting because the alternative is actually having to do something.
No one does the math. Eight people in an hour meeting = eight hours of company time. If average salary is $75/hour fully loaded, that’s $600 per week. $2,400 per month. $28,800 per year. For a meeting where nothing happens. When you put a dollar amount on it, the zombie starts to look a lot less harmless.
How to Kill It
If you own the meeting:
Just kill it. Send a message: “I’m canceling our recurring [meeting name]. It served its purpose when we were [original context], but I don’t think it’s providing value anymore. If you disagree, let me know and we can discuss.” You’ll get zero pushback. People will be relieved.
If you don’t own the meeting:
Ask the owner directly: “I want to make sure I’m adding value here—what would we lose if I dropped off this meeting?” Watch them struggle to answer. If they can’t articulate it, suggest a trial: “What if I skip the next two and we see if anything breaks?” Nothing will break.
If you’re senior enough to do a purge:
Declare a meeting amnesty. “We’re killing all recurring meetings. Each one has to re-justify its existence to get back on the calendar. If you can’t articulate what the meeting produces, it stays dead.” You’ll reclaim hundreds of hours. People will worship you.
The Replacement
Not every meeting needs to become an async Slack thread. Some coordination genuinely requires real-time conversation. But here’s the filter:
If the meeting is for information sharing → kill it. Write it down. Send a Loom. Post in a channel. People can consume information faster when they’re not trapped in a conference room.
If the meeting is for decision making → keep it, but tighten it. Pre-work required. Decisions documented. 30 minutes max. Specific outcomes or it didn’t happen.
If the meeting is for “connection” → make it optional and make it real.
No agenda. No updates. Just humans talking.
Call it what it is: social time. Stop pretending it’s work.
Your Move
Pull up your calendar right now. Find the meeting that made you think of while reading this. You know the one.
This week, decline the next occurrence. Just decline it. See what happens.
I promise you: nothing will happen. No one will notice. The company will not collapse. You’ll just get an hour of your life back.
And if someone does notice? Good. Now you can have the conversation that should’ve happened eighteen months ago.
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RIP to the meeting. It served its purpose once. It’s time to let it go.