CSotD: Love and loyalty

I suppose this counts as more of a "classic" than a "comic strip of the day," since it's not new. But I hadn't seen it before Mark Anderson posted a blog entry yesterday entitled "Business Cartoons You Don't Want in Your Employees' Cubicles." 

Good title. 

Confucius asked, "How can one be said truly to love who fails to make demands upon the object of his love? How can one be said truly to be loyal who hesitates to criticize the object of his loyalty?"

But I think his notion of making demands of your subordinates had to do with challenging them to do their best and not accepting slipshod work and half-hearted efforts. It did not mean demanding that they sit through endless, repetitive, moronic PowerPoint presentations:

Nor, for that matter, did his advice for subordinates to criticize their superiors mean that he wanted to encourage a system of endless, pointless bitchfests:

Anderson's headline about not wanting these cartoons posted in your employees' cubicles is delightfully open-ended, because he mostly talks about whether management would find them funny. He doesn't get into what management ought to do about it.

Now, certainly, there are different rules for what I guess you could call "closed" or "open" workplaces, the distinction being whether the public, and in particular your clientele, are going to see the aforementioned cubicles.

I've never understood why any manager would allow the "You Want It When?" classic to be posted in view of customers or clients.

The idea that you would announce to your customers that pleasing them is not only a low priority but a concept that you find humorously unlikely just doesn't convey anything I find positive in the workplace.

But things are different in a closed system where the only people to whom you are making indiscreet declarations about your lack of loyalty and dedication are your fellow workers and, of course, your boss.

And I will confess that, at one particularly soul-killing stage of employment, I had this Calvin and Hobbes in my cubicle. (I'll also confess that it's one panel from a two-panel cartoon, but the second half trod on the punchline, so I cropped it out. Sorry, Bill.)

First of all, this is far too indirect for any of the people who were making my life miserable at the time to recognize as commentary on my job, and, second, I was shopping my resume all over by then.

And, third, my boss was equally miserable, though the two of us worked hard not to make that a frequent topic of conversation. I honestly can't remember whether this went up before or after he bailed out, but I wasn't far behind him.

I can't stand people who bitch about a situation that they aren't willing to address, and, way too often, these cartoons are posted as an alternative to taking control of your life. And my response is that you should either get a grip or STFU.

The other day at the dog park I was talking to a woman who is tired of her job, but recognizes that it pays well, the benefits are terrific and that, given the state of the economy and the fact that she has a small child to consider, she needs to stay put unless something magical appears on the horizon.

However, she's more bored than miserable and she's certainly sensible enough not to turn a vague lack of enthusiasm into an overwhelming case of soul-cancer by posting constant reminders to herself that she's not thrilled with the gig.

If the job really is killing your soul, your primary responsibility to your family is to not die young and, in the meantime, to act as a functioning parent, even if it means taking a financial hit, turning the thermostat down and drinking generic sodas. In her case, it hasn't come to that point.

And I'll admit, I was lucky: At the time I had Calvin in my cubicle, the kids were grown and gone and my mantra was "It's just me and the dogs, and they think sleeping in the park and eating out of Dumpsters would be a blast!"

But it didn't come to that. Not that time, anyway.

I kept the resumes circulating and, within a few months of my boss's abandonment of the creeping meatball, made my own way to safety, which meant a new job in which I was not only happy and appreciated, but at which I had a subordinate. And at the job after that, I wound up with even more subordinates.

So my take, as a boss, on walking past a subordinate's cubicle and seeing one of these "You're killing my soul" cartoons is twofold:

1. This person is either on the verge of pulling the rip chord or has no sense of discretion and good judgment. They are also probably helping to bring down other employees who might otherwise enjoy being there. There is no point in considering them for promotion or special assignments and, in fact, you should feel fortunate if they leave on their own and you should do absolutely nothing to encourage them to stay.

2. They could be a canary in your coal mine. Look inward. It's possible that you are guilty of killing the souls of your subordinates and don't realize it.

Not sure how useful that second point is. To end with the philosopher with whom we began, "In vain have I looked for a man capable of seeing his own faults and bringing the charge home against himself."