We know the moment. A meeting begins, and before long, one voice fills the air. The words keep coming, the agenda bends, and the rest of the room quietly slips back. Some withdraw in frustration, others decide it’s not worth trying. What is lost is not just time. What is lost is the very reason we came together, the possibility that many voices might shape something none of us could create alone.

The cost of meetings that don’t work is staggering:

  • Managers now spend around 13 hours a week in meetings, more than 20% of their work time (Fellow, 2025).
  • U.S. organisations lose an estimated $375 billion annually to unproductive meetings (Fellow, 2025).
  • 35% of meetings are considered a waste of time, while only 11% are seen as productive (The TreeTop, 2025).
  • Across the country, that adds up to 24 billion hours wasted every year (DiscoveryABA, 2025).
  • 71% of senior managers say meetings are inefficient and unproductive, and 65% believe they prevent real work from being done (Notta.ai, 2024).
  • More than 90% of employees report “meeting hangovers”, a drop in focus or motivation after poorly run meetings (Fellow, 2025).

These numbers matter. But the deeper cost is human. People leave meetings feeling smaller, quieter, and less inclined to try again. We do not just waste hours; we waste potential. So the question is not really, “How do I stop someone from talking too much?” That frames the issue too narrowly. The real question is, “What kind of room are we creating?” One where airtime is hoarded, or one where contribution is inevitable?

This piece explores the choices we can make in our meetings: how we intervene, how we steward airtime, how we design, and how we invite. Each is a step toward reshaping not just how we meet, but how we belong.

Why dominance happens

If the costs of poor meetings are so obvious, why do we still allow one person to monopolise the floor? The reasons are rarely malicious; they are usually a mix of personality, culture, and design.

Personality drivers: Some people genuinely process by speaking. Extroverts often “think out loud,” filling silence as they shape their ideas. Others equate visibility with value, believing that the more they speak, the more they are seen as committed or competent. For some, dominance masks insecurity: talking ensures they cannot be overlooked. And in many cases, it stems from good intent. They believe they are helping, bringing clarity, or keeping momentum alive. The problem lies not in intent, but in the unintended impact of crowding others out.

Cultural influences: Many organisations reward the fast, fluent talker. The ability to respond quickly and decisively is celebrated, while slower, more reflective contributions are overlooked. Leadership myths reinforce this: “good leaders speak up” becomes code for “good leaders speak most.” Senior voices can unintentionally dominate simply because status confers the unspoken “right” to be heard first and longest. Cross-cultural dynamics add another layer. In high power-distance cultures, junior members may hold back out of respect. In some cultures, assertive self-expression is expected; in others, it is seen as impolite. In global teams, these norms collide, and often the loudest style prevails.

Design flaws: Most meetings are under-designed for balance. Open-floor discussions, vague agendas, and a lack of clear facilitation create conditions where the assertive thrive and others fade. Online, the risks amplify. Silence in virtual meetings feels heavier, so dominant personalities rush to fill it, while quieter members retreat further behind muted microphones.

Dominance is not just a personal flaw; it is a system flaw. Without conscious design and stewardship, the loudest voice will win by default. Tackling it means going beyond asking one person to talk less; it means rethinking how the whole room is held. So what are we choosing when we let meetings run by default? What possibilities go unheard when silence is mistaken for agreement? And what responsibility do we each hold for noticing, for interrupting, for inviting, so the meeting belongs to all of us?

Intervening in the moment

When one voice dominates, the temptation is to let the moment pass and address it later. Yet a meeting is a living system, and silence signals consent. If the imbalance is left unchecked while it is happening, the message to everyone else is clear: this is normal, even endorsed.

Intent versus impact. It helps to remember that people who dominate airtime rarely do so with bad intent. Some are enthusiastic, some feel pressure to prove their worth, and others are filling the silence that feels uncomfortable. But good intent does not erase the negative impact on the group. Part of the facilitator’s role is to hold that tension: affirming contribution while protecting space for others.

Practical moves.

Intervening in the moment does not mean shaming or silencing. It means restoring balance with respect. Small, deliberate moves can shift the whole rhythm of the meeting:

Respectful interruption: When someone speaks too long, a gentle redirection helps: “Let’s pause there, I’d like to hear from others before we continue.” The tone matters. If it carries irritation, the group feels tension; if it carries respect, the group feels balance.

Naming what’s happening: Sometimes the group needs a mirror. Saying, “I notice we’ve heard from three voices, and there are five still silent,” brings awareness without blame. It turns the imbalance into something visible and therefore open to change.

Restoring interrupted voices: Dominance often shows up not only in airtime but in interruptions. If someone is cut off, restoring them matters: “Jamie, you were mid-thought, let’s come back to you.” This signals that every contribution has dignity and that silence after being interrupted will not be accepted as consent.

Direct invitation: Not everyone pushes their way into the conversation, especially in groups where dominance is normalised. A direct, open invitation helps: “Alex, what’s your perspective?” or “Before we move on, I’d like to hear from at least two more voices.” The key is to offer an invitation, not a demand, so that choice remains with the person.

Using silence deliberately: Dominant voices often rush to fill gaps. A facilitator who can hold a pause, five, even ten seconds, creates space for others to step in. Online, this can be paired with a prompt: “I’ll leave a moment so people can add their thoughts in chat.” Silence becomes an ally, not a void.

Virtual dynamics. Online, the risks are sharper. One person can fill the space while others stay muted, or contributions in chat are ignored. Structured pauses, breakout rooms, and visible “speaker stacks” help avoid the default where the fastest voice takes the stage.

The cost of avoidance. Leaders often hesitate to intervene for fear of embarrassment or conflict. But inaction carries a higher cost. It leaves quieter members disengaged, it rewards over-speaking, and it weakens trust in the facilitator. People stop believing the meeting is a fair space.

I was once coaching a team in tech and sat in a few of their meetings. A senior engineer habitually spoke first and at length. The team leader began gently redirecting: “Let’s hold that thought, and hear two others before we come back.” Over a few weeks, the engineer adjusted, and others began contributing more freely. What changed was not the engineer’s personality, but the expectation of balance.

Intervening in the moment is the first act of stewardship. It tells the group that airtime belongs to everyone.

So the question is this: when an imbalance appears in the room, will we let it pass and become the norm, or will we risk a small interruption in service of a larger fairness? And if silence signals consent, what are we silently consenting to?

Leaders as models and stewards of airtime

Dominance thrives most easily when leaders do not see their own part in it. The person who speaks the most is not always the problem. Often, it is the leader who sets the tone by talking first, by talking longest, or by talking as if decisions are already made. What feels like clarity to the leader can feel like closure to everyone else.

The truth is simple: when authority speaks, the room shrinks. Even an innocent remark, “Here’s how I see it,” tilts the conversation. Others fall in line, soften their own views, or stay silent altogether. Leaders rarely notice this; they assume their input is neutral. It isn’t. It carries weight, and that weight can crush possibilities.

Modelling restraint. The most powerful thing a leader can do is to wait. To speak last. To let others go first, even if they already know what they want. This is not abdication; it is trust. A leader who pauses is telling the group: your thinking matters as much as mine. Over time, this models a new norm, that leadership is as much about listening as it is about deciding.

Modelling curiosity. Restraint is not enough. Leaders also need to show that curiosity has value. A simple, genuine question, “What are we missing here?” creates more space than a polished statement. When leaders ask without knowing the answer, they legitimise uncertainty and encourage others to risk their honest view.

Stewardship of structure. Leaders can shape airtime through the way they host meetings. Choosing to rotate roles, facilitator, timekeeper, summariser, signals that no one voice owns the process. Starting with a check-in round or ending with a closing circle embeds balance into the design. When a leader introduces these rituals, they carry more weight: they say, this is how we do things here.

Stewardship of individuals. Sometimes the leader’s role is to intervene directly: “Let’s pause there and hear two other voices.” Sometimes it is private: “I noticed you spoke a lot in that meeting, how might you use your voice to draw others in?” Both require courage. Stewardship is not about being nice; it is about making sure the room belongs to everyone.

The paradox of leadership is that the more space you hold, the less you need to fill. People watch closely. If the leader dominates, others withdraw. If the leader listens, others step forward. Culture is not written in handbooks; it is lived in these choices.

So the invitation is this: what if your leadership was measured not by the weight of your words, but by the breadth of voices you made room for? What would change in your team if speaking less became the most powerful contribution you could make?

Meeting design prevents dominance

We often blame people for dominating when the real culprit is design. Most meetings are not designed at all, they drift. An open agenda, a vague purpose, a room where anyone can speak at any time: this is an open invitation for the loudest voice to win. In the absence of structure, dominance is not the exception; it is the rule.

Design is not about scripts or rigid rules. It is about intention. The question underneath design is simple: do we want a meeting where contribution is a matter of luck, or one where it is inevitable?

Small choices shift the balance. A round of check-ins at the start ensures that everyone speaks at least once, and the meeting begins on a note of equality. A moment of silent reflection before opening the floor gives space to those who think more carefully before speaking, preventing the quickest voice from setting the frame. Pair conversations break the monopoly of the extrovert and bring out ideas that might never surface in the full group. These are not tricks; they are acts of design. They declare, this is not a room where you have to fight for airtime; it is already yours.

The same is true online. Silence feels heavier in virtual meetings, and dominant personalities rush to fill it. Yet the host can choreograph differently. A timed round where each person has two minutes, or a breakout where three voices meet before returning to the group, sends a clear message: contribution is part of the design, not left to chance. Even something as ordinary as pausing and saying, “I’ll wait ten seconds for thoughts in the chat,” redistributes power in a digital room.

Design is not about control; it is about choreography. Like a dance, each person knows when to step forward and when to step back. Structure does not stifle; it liberates. It frees quieter members to contribute without competing. It frees dominant voices from carrying the unconscious burden of always leading.

The paradox is that freedom requires structure. Without it, power defaults to the few. With it, possibilities open for the many.

So the invitation is this: what if you designed meetings not as containers for information, but as containers for equity? What kind of structures would you put in place if your goal was not efficiency, but belonging? And how much more might get done, if people trusted that their voice was already part of the design?

Building belonging through invitation

At some level, dominance is not really about airtime at all. It is about belonging. When people feel they are not part of the circle, they withdraw. When one person feels the burden to prove themselves, they overfill the space. Both are signs of a meeting that has forgotten its deeper purpose: not just to exchange information, but to create a sense of connection and shared ownership.

Belonging begins with invitation. Not the perfunctory “any comments?” that leaves silence hanging, but questions that carry curiosity. What possibility excites you most here? What feels at risk if we pursue this path? Questions like these open the circle wider. They signal that a person’s perspective is not just allowed but needed.

An invitation can also be ritual. A check-in round at the start, where each person names how they arrive, places everyone inside the circle, not on the margins. A closing round, where each person shares one gift they are taking away, reminds us that our presence has value beyond efficiency. These small acts turn airtime from something we compete for into something we steward together.

The role of the facilitator shifts in this frame. They are not a referee keeping order, nor a performer filling silence. They are a host. Their task is to create conditions where people feel safe enough to contribute, and accountable enough to show up fully. A host does not entertain guests; they welcome them into a table that already belongs to everyone.

When meetings are hosted this way, the atmosphere changes. People speak with more honesty, not less. They listen with more attention because they feel their words are being received, not tolerated. And the dominant voice? It no longer needs to carry the room, because the room belongs to everyone.

This is why invitation matters. It is not about technique. It is about whether people leave a meeting believing they belong, or doubting it. It is about whether contribution feels inevitable or optional.

So what invitations are we extending in our meetings? Do people hear, “Speak if you dare, but it won’t change much”? Or do they hear, “Your voice belongs here, and the conversation is incomplete without it”? What would become possible if belonging was not assumed, but deliberately created every time we gather?

Practical facilitation toolkit

Techniques matter less as rules and more as signals. Each one says something about the kind of room we are creating. The following practices fall into two families: processes that shape the flow of meetings, and activities that can be used at specific moments. Think of them less as tools to manage people and more as ways of extending an invitation to balance, equity, and belonging.

Processes: shaping the flow

Step up, step back.

A simple ground rule at the start: if you speak often, try stepping back; if you speak rarely, try stepping up. This is not about correcting anyone. It is about naming that participation belongs to the whole group, not just the few who find it easy. The moment it is spoken aloud, responsibility shifts from the facilitator to everyone present.

Example: At the start of a quarterly review, the leader said, “Let’s remember to step up if you’re quiet, and step back if you’re usually the first in.” Midway through, one of the frequent talkers paused and invited a colleague who rarely spoke to share their view. The group noticed the shift immediately.

Time limits as gifts.

When a meeting sets two minutes per person for a check-in or a round, it is not about control. It is about giving freedom. With a limit, people sharpen their thoughts, and the room has time to hear more voices. The structure is not a cage; it is a stage where everyone gets a turn.

Example: In a weekly sales call, each rep was given two minutes to share updates. At first, some resisted, but soon the reports became sharper, and the meeting ran in half the usual time while still covering more voices.

Restoring the interrupted.

When someone is cut off, it is tempting to move on. Yet restoring them, “Jamie, you were mid-thought, let’s return to you,” does more than repair politeness. It tells the group: your words matter, and silence forced upon you will not be accepted as consent. Over time, this creates a culture where listening is valued more than outpacing.

Example: In a product review meeting, one engineer interrupted another mid-sentence. The agile coach stepped in: “Hold on, let’s let Jaime finish.” The group visibly relaxed, and Jamie’s contribution ended up shaping the final decision.

Redirecting energy into stewardship.

Those who dominate often do so out of passion. Instead of asking them to quiet down, invite them into a role: timekeeper, pattern-spotter, summariser. This channels energy into service of the group. It reframes their voice from something to be managed into something to be stewarded.

Example: A passionate project lead who often dominated discussions was asked to act as the “theme catcher” during a planning session. By focusing on drawing connections rather than adding more content, they elevated others’ contributions instead of overshadowing them.

Conversations outside the room.

Sometimes, an imbalance cannot be shifted within the meeting. Then the choice is to speak privately. “I noticed you carried a lot of the airtime. How do you think we could make more space for others?” When this is framed as a shared responsibility, it strengthens trust rather than diminishing it. For this, also consider how you calibrate feedback. AID feedback structure is worth exploring.

Example: After several meetings where a senior analyst spoke far more than others, the manager had a one-to-one conversation. Rather than criticise, they asked: “How might you use your voice to draw others out?” At the next meeting, the analyst invited quieter colleagues to share first, changing the flow completely.

Activities: balancing in the moment

Round-robin check-ins.

To go around the room and hear each voice once is to say: this circle is whole only when every voice has sounded. It can be as brief as one word or as full as a minute. The point is not the content, but the equality.

Example: In a project kick-off, the team coach asked each person to name one hope for the project. Even the most junior member contributed before the senior manager spoke, and the tone of equality carried into the rest of the meeting.

Think–pair–share.

Some people need silence before speech, and a smaller space before the larger one. Think–pair–share gives both. First, a pause to write. Then, a conversation with one other person. Only then does the group hear the results. By the time the louder voices speak, the room already belongs to more than them.

Example: In a strategy session, the facilitator gave two minutes for silent reflection, then five minutes in pairs. When the group reconvened, four themes emerged instead of one dominant voice setting the frame.

Talking object.

Passing a stone, a card, or even a visible speaker list in an online meeting is not childish. It is a ritual. It says: the floor belongs to one at a time, and each one will have it. This slows us down, and in the slowing, we listen differently.

Example: A leadership team debating budget priorities used a small bell as their “talking object.” The usual interruptions disappeared, and everyone remarked how much more deeply they had listened.

Silent brainstorm.

When the loudest voice sets the frame, ideas narrow. A silent brainstorm interrupts this. Everyone writes first, then shares. Sticky notes on a wall, or digital cards online, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that possibility appears before dominance can define it.

Example: In a design meeting, everyone posted three ideas on a digital board before speaking. Half the ideas would have gone unheard if the discussion had started immediately.

Closing circle.

To end with each person naming one insight or gift is to give the last word to the group, not the leader. It turns departure into recognition: we were here together, and each of us leaves with something of value.

Example: At the end of a tense operations meeting, participants shared one learning each. One admitted, “I need to listen more.” Another said, “I feel heard for the first time this week.” The circle created closure and connection.

These are simple moves, but their meaning is larger. They say to the group: you matter, your voice belongs, we will not leave balance to chance. So the question is not which technique to use. It is: what kind of signal do you want to send? Does the meeting belong to a few, or does it belong to everyone?

Conclusion

It is tempting to see the problem of dominance as belonging to one person, the talkative colleague, the assertive manager. But if we stop there, we miss the more profound truth. Dominance is a symptom of how we choose to meet. Without design, the loudest voice fills the space. Without stewardship, silence becomes withdrawal. Without invitation, belonging is left to chance.

The good news is that we can shift this. Not by silencing, but by redesigning. Not by controlling, but by hosting. Every process and activity in this toolkit carries the same message: airtime is not a possession; it is a shared resource.

The real test is not whether we can get through an agenda faster. It is whether people leave a meeting feeling that their voice mattered, that they belonged, that the conversation could not have been the same without them. If we achieve that, innovation and efficiency will follow, but more importantly, trust will deepen.

So perhaps the question is no longer, “How do I stop someone from talking too much?” A more useful one might be: “What kind of room do I want to create?”

A room where people measure their worth by how much they say? Or a room where every voice is already part of the circle, and speaking is an act of contribution rather than competition? The choice is ours, every time we gather.

Reflection for your next meeting

Before your next meeting, reflect with these questions:

  • What kind of room am I choosing to create, one where airtime is hoarded or one where it is shared?
  • How might I model restraint or curiosity so that others feel their voice matters?
  • What small structure could I design that makes contribution inevitable rather than optional?
  • In what ways can I extend invitation, not just to speak, but to belong?
  • What would become possible if we treated airtime as something to be stewarded, not owned?

Some of the ideas in this article were inspired by Engagement by Design and the book Community by Peter Block

Thanks to Ioana Bora, a fellow European coach, friend and professional colleague, for sharing this question in a recent conversation.

References

Fellow (2025) Unproductive meetings represent a significant financial burden, with studies estimating a staggering $375 billion annually in the United States, Unproductive Meeting Statistics. Available at: https://fellow.ai/blog/unproductive-meeting-statistics (Accessed: 24 August 2025).

Fellow (2025) Managers spend an average of 13 hours per week in meetings (over 20% of their workweek), Meeting behaviour trends: Fellow study. Available at: https://fellow.ai/blog/meeting-statistics-the-future-of-meetings-report (Accessed: 24 August 2025).

The TreeTop (2025) Time Wasted in Meetings Statistics. Available at: https://thetreetop.com/statistics/time-wasted-in-meetings-statistics (Accessed: 24 August 2025).

Notta.ai (2024) Too Many Meetings at Work? Here is How to Scale Back. Available at: https://notta.ai/en/blog/too-many-meetings (Accessed: 24 August 2025).

DiscoveryABA (2025) Time Wasted in Meetings Statistics. Available at: https://discoveryaba.com/statistics/time-wasted-in-meetings (Accessed: 24 August 2025).