So much for the work ethic

 

I was both sympathetic and very annoyed to read a woman's account of how she set about demonstrating that her job was meaningless.

It was around then, as the company went through various rounds of restructuring, that I developed a nagging suspicion that my role was irrelevant and futile ... No one – my new manager included – really knew what my role was meant to entail. I looked at what I was doing day to day, hour to hour, and looked at what everyone else was doing, and it all started to feel like a convoluted farce.

So, I decided to conduct an experiment. Out of protest, I resolved to stop working and to see how long it would be before anyone noticed.

. . .

This was in the era before working from home, so I knew I’d have to go to my office each day and at least appear to be working.

I quickly realised, though, that there is no greater ruse in a modern office than the spreadsheet.

People walk past, see all that small text and columns, and just assume you’re working. What was I actually doing? Meticulously planning 10 months of travel: day-by-day itineraries, budgets, where we’d stay, what trains to get, things to see. My now-husband and I had always planned to travel; I was simply using company hours to prepare for it.

Of course this involved a lot of Googling, so I always had a page that looked like work ready, so that I could minimise my travel research quickly. I’d angled my monitor, but I was lucky to be sat in front of a window, away from any footfall, so it was rare that anyone saw my screen.

To leave a paper trail – so that if anyone asked, I could point to tasks I’d completed – I’d send a couple of emails during the week. I’d pad the basic questions about some account or other out with extra thoughts, so that it seemed like I’d considered the subject at length. Sometimes I’d create a document based on whatever was exchanged in the email. Other times, I might even turn the email contents into a PowerPoint presentation. With about 15 minutes of effort, I would have earned my crust.

If I hadn’t done even that, half an hour before my weekly one-to-ones with my manager I would spend 15 minutes knocking up a page of something, typically a presentation with figures I knew he wouldn’t bother to follow-up on. Then I’d deliver my updates in a convincing tone, using the appropriate buzz phrases. “I’m making great progress... the stakeholders are on board…”

My manager would nod: “That all sounds great! Carry on.”

In that way, I did no work for an entire year. The experiment ended not because anyone exposed my idling, but because I finally left.

There's more at the link.

She doesn't appear to have worried at all that it might be unethical to take an honest day's wage for a dis-honest day's work.  That was the infuriating part.  On the other hand, there was also sympathy for working in such a meaningless, dead-end environment (which I experienced more than once during my years in the business world - not to mention the military).  On average, I'd say that the companies and institutions where I worked probably had a good 30% of staff who were basically redundant, hindering the company rather than helping it, soaking up resources that could have been better applied elsewhere.

I remember when Elon Musk took over Twitter.  I understand he shed about 80% of its workforce, some through being dismissed, others through encouraging them to leave through buyout offers, and not a few resigning in outrage that the left-wing ethos of the company was being stripped away.  For a couple of years Twitter was in financial difficulties, but it bounced right back, and is currently profitable - but still a much smaller company in terms of headcount.  What were those people doing who were removed?  How could Twitter have justified keeping them on the payroll when clearly it could have functioned - and is now functioning - just fine without them?

I suppose part of the problem is that too much of one's corporate status is dependent on how many people and/or functions report to you.  The more people a given level of management supervises, the more senior it's deemed to be, and the greater the rewards and incentives offered to its manager(s) to hire even more and expand even further.  Very few companies seem to value managers who reduce headcount and economize on corporate resources.

On the other hand, small companies seem much more focused on their purpose.  Every employee has to contribute measurably to their success, financially or otherwise.  If someone's a freeloader, he or she will be identified much more quickly as such, and probably shown the door within a matter of weeks.  That's as it should be.  A small company doesn't have the accumulated resources to carry unnecessary bodies with it.  It has to be lean, mean and economical, because its proprietor's income is utterly dependent on himself and his small group of workers.  Any loss of focus will cost money out of his pocket - a very good incentive to keep a tight rein on outflows.

I guess there are too many companies who end up with employees like the author above, but tolerate them for all the wrong reasons.  We really need to have concrete, specific ways to evaluate how every job contributes to the mission of the company/department/etc.  If your output can't be measured, how do you know you're doing something worthwhile?  And how do you know that about those who work for you?

Peter