Why You Wouldn’t Make ONE Meeting Without Clocks

Your phone says seven, the oven clock insists on six fifty-eight, and the kitchen radio swears blind it is seven. Who do you believe? Before alarm clocks were cheap, in the mill towns and London slums, you paid someone to wake you: the knocker-upper walked the streets before dawn with a long pole or a pea shooter and tapped bedroom windows until the client stirred, a subscription service with cash collected weekly and no snooze button. This video climbs nine rungs from shadow appointments and seasonal hours to the atomic clocks behind your phone, and asks how two people agree on a time when there is no shared time to agree with: Athenian water clocks, monastery bells, one-handed tower clocks, sandglasses at sea, Harrison’s watch, the railway zones of 1883, and Mary Smith’s dried peas at the window.