Three meetings deep. Same topic. Same people. Same slide deck.
Tom is somewhere over the Dolomites by now, mentally at least. He checked out the moment he realised he won’t be the one signing off on this. Karl is dismantling every argument on the table and offering nothing in return. Somewhere between the second hour and the ninth revision of slide three, the meeting stopped being about a decision and took on a life of its own.
Nothing is concluded. Nobody owns the outcome. And yet there’s already a calendar invite for the follow-up sitting in everyone’s inbox.
I’ve sat in that room more times than I’d like to admit. Sometimes, as Tom. Other times as Karl.
Here’s the part that took me years to see: that follow-up invite is a loan. For every unresolved meeting, the organisation borrows against a future meeting to pay for the decision it just failed to make. The interest compounds into decision debt, and most leaders underestimate the negative effects. This is because it never appears on a budget line, and because the meetings that generate it feel productive while they’re happening.
Decision debt gets run up in three ways. Each one starts the same way: a meeting is run as the wrong type.
First, know what meeting you’re actually in
Most meetings are one of three kinds, and most of the trouble comes from confusing them.
- Information meetings move in one direction. Company strategy, a process change, or project status. The goal is to spread awareness and get people to act on it, not to decide anything. They fail when someone in the room thinks they’re there to influence a call that was already made elsewhere.
- Permission meetings are smaller and higher-stakes. One person holds the authority to grant or withhold a decision, and that person is not always the one who called the meeting. They fail when the decision-maker isn’t in the room, when ownership is vague, or when everyone performs consensus around a call that one person was always going to make alone.
- Alignment meetings are the hardest to run. Several people hold legitimate but different views, and the room needs to leave with a shared position. They fail when the group treats agreement as the finish line and skips the harder work of committing to a specific path.
Run any of these three as if it were an alignment meeting (which is what happens by default, because alignment feels collaborative and safe), and you start incurring debt. Here’s how it accrues.
The phantom conclusion
You’re in the alignment meeting. Colleagues to your left and right are nodding, some in real agreement, some to avoid the friction of disagreeing out loud. The meeting ends on a warm note. Everyone files out.
Then each person acts on a different understanding of what was decided. No owner was named. The deadline was left soft. The next step was described but never assigned. The topic isn’t just unresolved; it’s now more confused than before the meeting, because everyone believes it’s settled and nobody agrees on how.
This is the classic alignment failure: the illusion of agreement standing in for commitment.
The moving goalpost
A conclusion is finally within reach. Then someone says the four most expensive words in corporate life: “Let’s loop in Sarah.”
A new meeting goes on the calendar. Sarah arrives with legitimate requirements nobody had accounted for, and the ground that felt solid last week is now unstable. The work gets redone. Ownership, already thin, spreads across one more person and gets harder to locate.
The instinct is understandable; more input, more buy-in, less risk. But every stakeholder you add to de-risk the decision makes it harder to say who is actually accountable for it. You didn’t reduce the risk. You diffused the ownership until no single person carries it.
The undocumented decision
This one is quieter, and it’s the one I see most often.
A decision gets made. A real one; reached, agreed, understood by everyone in the room. Then nobody writes it down. Two weeks later, a status meeting reopens the topic as though the first conversation never happened, and the same people relitigate the same question with the same arguments.
Without a record, no decision is ever truly made. It just waits to be made again.
The compounding
One inconclusive meeting is an inconvenience. The same topic, unresolved for six weeks, is something else: a debt that’s been accruing interest the whole time. Every re-run costs the salaries in the room, the momentum lost between sessions, and the opportunity of whatever those people would otherwise have decided. Deferral feels prudent in the moment. It’s the most expensive financing available.
So what do you do instead? Four habits, in the order they matter.
- Name the meeting type before it starts. Information, permission, or alignment. The format, the invite list, and the definition of success all follow from the answer. An information meeting doesn’t need thirty people and a vote. A permission meeting without the decision-maker present is a scheduled way to waste an afternoon.
- Bring something concrete to react to. Alignment in the abstract is nearly impossible. Someone should walk in with a recommendation, even a provisional one, that the others can attack. “Here’s what I think we should do, and why” gets you further, faster, than “What should we do?” It’s always quicker to iterate on a draft than to create a decision from nothing.
- Write down every decision. Especially the small ones. The decisions that feel too minor to document are the ones that get reopened. A decision log doesn’t need to be elaborate: topic, decision, owner, date. That’s the whole schema. Nothing can be relitigated once the record exists.
- Name an owner, not a facilitator. A facilitator runs the room. An owner is the person who makes the call when consensus doesn’t arrive, and (this is the part that matters for the debt) the person the decision is charged to afterwards. Debt with no name attached is exactly the debt that compounds, because nobody feels the interest. Give it an owner and it becomes visible, which is the first step to paying it down.
Every unresolved meeting has a price. It feels free because it sits on no one’s budget. It isn’t. Eight people, three meetings, ninety minutes each, at a blended €75 an hour … that discussion has cost €2,700 before anyone owns it.
Which is the real answer to the question. How many meetings can you have about a topic without reaching a conclusion? Exactly as many as you’re willing to pay for.


