Are you a chronic canceller?

Ever tried to organise an event, coffee, dinner, meeting or catch-up in the post-COVID world? You may have come across a new epidemic: last-minute cancellations. 

Friend (and we say this with love), you’re probably just as guilty.

Please don’t cancel us

The term ‘cancel culture’ has been thrown around a lot in the last decade. Well, add it to The Dictionary of Lost Words, because we’ve uncovered another definition. The same phrase used to describe mob justice also covers the unmitigated rise of last-minute cancellations.

Yes, you’re busy. And yes, we’re all guilty of the odd oversight. And, we agree: people should be able to unashamedly bow out of commitments when the unexpected strikes. 

That’s not what we’re talking about.

Yes means yes maybe?

For all its curses, COVID led to some pretty great social change: flexible and remote work, recognition that kids exist (even during work hours), and acknowledgement that a sick day should be just that. 

But it’s possible to have too much of a good thing. We love that it’s now ok to prioritise life, health and self-care. What we don’t love is how that acceptance has legitimised the ability to freely cancel on commitments. 

“Something’s come up”

“I’m not feeling well”

“My child has come down with something”

How often do you hear these excuses? Do you even believe them anymore? We know they’re all sometimes true, but chronic overuse has rendered them slightly unbelievable. 

And that’s a problem, because BC (Before Covid), yes meant yes. When you committed, it was because you planned to attend – ‘something coming up’ was a fairly uncommon occurrence. Now? Our record is three last-minute coffee cancellations on the same day… using the exact same reason.

With that record, you may think we offer wildly undesirable coffee chat. As we sat crying into our cups, we wondered the same. Maybe it is just us, or maybe it highlights one of the very real impacts of cancel culture – it doesn’t feel very nice if you’re on the receiving end.

Cancel culture builds on itself

The problem with a culture of cancellations is that it builds on itself. When yeses are treated more like tentative maybes, we can never really plan on anyone being where they say they’ll be. We now all have to invest a non-insignificant amount of time reconfirming plans, rescheduling and reorganising our calendars. Didn’t we agree that we’re all busy? What an unnecessary waste of time.

Don’t get us started on how demoralising it is for event organisers to try to wrangle numbers when the general consensus is to account for a 30-50% no-show ghost rate. How do you book catering, venues and speakers when you have no idea who is going to turn up? This one has a simple fix: change your RSVP as soon as you can. Even if it’s a virtual event, it shows your respect for other people’s time and effort.

But the cost of cancellations doesn’t stop there.

Operating on autopilot

Most of the time, we operate on autopilot. We rely on habits and routines to avoid decision fatigue, and most of us love life to fit into a pattern. Sometimes, those patterns don’t serve us.

It might feel easier to accept an invite when you have little intention of turning up.

It might feel easier to cancel when you don’t have to do it face-to-face.

It might feel easier to simply not turn up to an event when you are ‘just one of many’.

But all decisions have consequences. An invitation to anything requires effort on someone else’s part. Your cancellation wastes their time (and potentially money and reputation). When you cancel last minute, you’re effectively saying ‘My time is more important than yours’.

Yes, they’ll probably say ‘no problem!’, but do it a few times and we guarantee they’re thinking something else.

Social capital and other costs

Close your eyes and think about one ‘flakey’ person in your life – the chronic canceller. If you could identify someone reasonably quickly, it means their behaviour has negatively impacted their social capital and personal brand. 

We don’t want that for Powrsuiters. So if you think you might be a little too loose with the ‘cancel’ button, here are three simple steps to address the habit:

1. Track your cancellations

Over the next month, note down every time you cancel or reschedule. If it’s a rarity, well done. You, like that small group of people who never got COVID, have managed to escape the epidemic.

If not, read on.

2. Contemplate the cause

If you find yourself cancelling weekly or daily, get honest with yourself. Why are you cancelling? Is it because you’ve lost control of your calendar? Do you accept before considering whether you want to go? Using the ‘yes’ RSVP as a placeholder until you plan your week? Do you have a tendency to overestimate how much you can do? Feel a little nervous about social interactions?

Be honest with yourself, because then you can address the root cause. Which takes us to point three:

3. Plan for disruption

Now you know why you cancel, a bit of planning will help you break the habit.

If you’re overwhelmed, challenge yourself to agree to fewer things, or check 2-3 weeks out for commitments you can reasonably reshuffle. Lots of uncontrollables to manage? Stick to the times that you’re least likely to be disrupted. Or, front-foot your uncertainty – trust us, people appreciate it. Nervous about going alone? Invite a friend before you commit. The first port of call when the kids get sick? Organise a better way to share the load.

If you do need to cancel, then remember those excuses we listed earlier – and don’t use them. Honesty is usually the best policy.

Let’s cancel cancel culture

Every cancellation bears a cost, so let’s save ‘em for when we need ‘em.

If there’s a one-off genuine, couldn’t be predicted, no alternative reason to change plans, go for it. For everything else, use your planning and communication skills – you’ll save everyone (including yourself) some much-needed time and energy.