Your goodbye time stops... Now

Emotional farewells may be a hallmark of airport settings, but travellers departing from Dunedin, New Zealand, will need to speed things up. A newly imposed 3-limit on goodbye hugs in the airport’s drop-off zone aims to curb lingering embraces that could clog traffic.

Signs outside the terminal now warn, “Max hug time three minutes,” advising those looking for more heartfelt goodbyes to head to the parking lot instead.

CEO Dan De Bono explained to The Associated Press that the cuddle cap was designed to “keep things moving smoothly” in the airport’s revamped drop-off area. But there were mixed reactions. De Bono said, “We were accused of breaching basic human rights and asked how we dared to limit how long someone can have a hug.”

Some travellers had welcomed the change. The signs were intended as a gentler approach, contrasting with other airports that warn of wheel clamping or fines for overstaying in drop-off zones. In the UK, some airports have even started charging fees for all drop-offs, no matter how brief.

“Three minutes is “plenty of time to pull up, say farewell to your loved ones, and move on. The time limit is really just a polite way of saying, you know, let’s keep things moving,” said De Bono. He also pointed out that a 20-second hug is enough to trigger the feel-good hormones oxytocin and serotonin, adding that anything beyond that becomes “really awkward.”

Longer hugs speak volumes

Radhika Dhawan, a business and mindset coach finds Dunedin Airport’s “Max Hug Time” rule amusing. “Airports are crossroads of love and anticipation, places where emotions race. A farewell isn’t just about chemistry; it’s about being fully present in those fleeting moments. Sometimes, a simple ‘see you soon’ feels right. Other times, we need a longer, lingering embrace to mark the depth of a bond.” For Dhawan, while Dunedin’s rule might nudge travellers toward efficient goodbyes, it also signals a broader direction where productivity edges out ties. “Where do we draw the line?” she asks, challenging the fact that even small, expressive gestures are now on a timer. “A hug that speaks what words cannot stay with us far longer than the seconds it takes to share it,” she asserts.

Still a language of love

Dr Annie Baxi, a mental health practitioner, views Dunedin Airport’s “3-minute hug permit” with both humour and a sense of concern over the boundaries it places on human connection. “The idea of timing a hug touches on a deeper truth about public spaces and the quiet restrictions we place on emotional expression,” she explains. Many find it ironic that a time limit is placed on something so universally comforting, she notes. But beneath that humour lies a subtle discomfort. “The restriction feels emotionally limiting and even unnatural. Hugs bring a sense of calm and make us feel valued. To control or constrain this in public policy touches a nerve. A flight represents a period of separation, a temporary disconnection from loved ones,” Baxi says.

The “3-minute hug rule” may feel both comic and bittersweet, illustrating the clash between our inherent need for connection and the efficient, regulated spaces we navigate daily. It begs the question: Have we reached a stage where even the smallest gestures of affinity are regulated and streamlined?

Dhawan adds, “I couldn’t help but recall the opening scene of Love Actually, where Heathrow Airport becomes a backdrop for tearful reunions, heartfelt smiles, and hugs — a beautifully chaotic portrayal of airport hellos and goodbyes. The idea of placing love on a timer, as with this new rule, felt both comical and absurd, as though it’s somehow trying to contain the very emotions that make these farewells so deep.”