quietlyradical

Scott Adams, creator of the Dilbert comic strip is my hero.  Having spent twenty-five years in “Corporate America” I know of no one else who so adequately captures the utter ridiculousness of life in the modern business world.  I think what is most pathetic is the realization that there are some (usually at the uppermost echelons of the company) who actually believe the “company hype” and that all the endless “project iterations” and “change management” efforts have genuine meaning and usefulness.

I resigned from my company a decade ago, so I no longer have any fear of being fired or reprimanded.  However, in order to avoid the decidedly unpleasant experience of being sued or having my retirement pension revoked, I will decline to name my previous employer explicitly and have taken care to remove all identifiable company brand images or catch phases from my examples.  The point here is not to “bash” a particular company but rather to expose the fact, as Scott Adams does in Dilbert, that pointy-haired bosses, surly, power-crazed receptionists, disreputable Dogbert-like consultants and the evils of Catbert’s Human Resources department thrive in many large organizations.

The first interesting observation I made was that my company’s overarching “strategic planning system” was comprised of “12 Steps.”  I don’t know whether that was by design (at the direction of some high priced consultant) or just a damned funny coincidence.  But the idea that this huge organization is basically just a massive AA program is deliciously perverse.

Because I worked there for twenty-six years before “making a break for it” in 2011, I hold the dubious distinction of having been around when the company began composing “Step 1” back in the late 1990s.  The “deliverable” which emerged from these uncertain efforts was a 140-word “mission statement” which nobody in the company can seem to remember, probably because of its pompous and overblown language.  It reads (approximately) as follows:

“Company X’s mission is to help people manage the risks of everyday life, recover from the unexpected and realize their dreams.

We are people who make it our business to be “stand up guys and gals”; who built a premier company by selling and keeping promises through our marketing partnership; who bring diverse talents and experiences to our work of serving the Company X customer.

Our success is built on a foundation of shared values — quality service and relationships, mutual trust, integrity and financial strength.

Our vision for the future is to be the customer’s first and best choice in the products and services we provide.  We will continue to be the leader in the “Widget A” industry and we will become a leader in the “Widget B” services arena.  Our customers’ needs will determine our path. Our values will guide us.”

This “mission statement” bothered me from Day 1.  Why should it be so convoluted?  Why does it come off sounding like a bad speech by a slimy politician?  Why couldn’t we just have said something simple like, “Our mission is to treat our customers fairly, give them what they pay for and grow to be the biggest and the best company of our type in the United States of America”?  Or better yet, “We want to treat you good and still make lots of money.”  It’s a little “bare bones” but I think the customers would appreciate the honesty.

“Step 2” was comprised of the 10-Year Aspirations (which ironically were approaching the end of the tenth year of their existence at the time of my departure ten years ago).  The company website asserted that the 10-year aspirations would serve as a “brief and concise” bridge between the mission statement and the short term, 3-years goals.  The “brief and concise” 10-year aspirations, incidentally, were nearly 200 words in length.

We aspire:

• To have the most-trusted customer relationships within the [identifying references removed] industry.
  
  Through these relationships with individuals, families and small businesses, we will meet the needs of our customers, continue to lead the xxxxxxx industry, and become a leader in the xxxxxxx arena. Customers will look first to Company X to serve all of their xxxxxxx and xxxxxxx services needs.
• To anticipate needs and execute strategies better than any competitor.
  
  We will provide products and services our customers need, preserve our long-term financial stability, and pursue profitable growth opportunities. Our success will depend on understanding the changing business environments, challenging the status quo, and focusing on the customer.
• To provide an environment where we can do our best work.
  
  We will be an organization that provides professional and personal growth opportunities and is renowned for inclusiveness, opportunity, and development of all its associates. We will continuously improve our skills and knowledge to better serve our customers and to achieve Company X’s goals.

Now, even being the cynic that I am, I have to admit that on the surface these seem like admirable aspirations.  They did when they were unveiled back in 2000 and have worn the test of time relatively well.  The problem, however, is that our company hadn’t accomplished any of them when I left and according to friends still working there, it is doubtful that it ever will.

Our customers didn’t, and from what I can gather from folks still on the inside, still don’t trust us.  Part of that is due to the nature of the industry which many people place on a par with used car salesmen in terms of trustworthiness.  But the other part of that is there are various examples of situations where the company wasn’t trustworthy; it placed profit above all else, it raised prices, cut services or made decisions on the basis of “how likely are we to be sued if someone finds out about this?”

The company also didn’t “anticipate needs and execute strategies better than any competitor.”  I once worked on a project to devise an electronic application which began in 1995.  In 1997, with the project still underway I transferred to a field office where I remained for 8 years.  Upon my return in 2005 the implementation of the electronic application was underway but not complete.  A friend from another field office once remarked to me that he had stopped believing that the “E-App was real” because it “seemed a lot like the  Loch Ness Monster, Big Foot and the unicorn…widely rumored to exist but with no tangible proof.”

And the company certainly never “provided an environment where employees could do their best work.”  In the ten years prior to my departure, countless field offices were closed, staffing went from “lean” to the realm of “malnourished” heading toward “skeletal” and the “zero budget growth” directive had rendered the “Performance Cash” incentive program a distance memory.  Again, friends still (just barely) employed there today, confirm that the rampant cuts and office closures continue and an ever increasing pace.

“Step 3” involved the company’s 3-year goals which proved to have been equally unattainable.  The charges to “Focus on the Customer” (we focused on the budget at the customer’s expense), “Manage the Business Effectively” (during the past twenty years the enterprise experiences some of the worst profit and loss results in its ninety-nine year history) and to “Develop Our People” (When?  At the end of a 60-hour work week?) just didn’t mesh with the reality that was Company X in 2010 and seem no closer to realization today.

The list goes on:  there was an annual planning message to support the 3-year goals, Zone plans, field office plans, sales team plans, department plans, measurements, portfolio management, and performance incentive bonuses.  Sadly, even though it looked like a cohesive plan on paper the reality was that all it really boiled down to was a lot of paperwork and red tape that served as “window dressing” for the same tired old processes that have been in place for years.  No one was willing to “go out on a limb” and really try something new and different.  And, as in the world of Dilbert we hired high-priced consultants to provide ludicrous recommendations and then attempted to reduce the budget by cutting back on providing canned soda and bottled water at department meetings.

So you might ask, “Then why did you stay for more than a quarter century?”  That is a legitimate question.  As a young, idealistic college graduate when I started back in 1985 I guess I bought in to the idea that I and others like me represented the “future of Company X” and I believed that we could “make a difference” in helping the company to become all that it could be.  Then, as the years went by and that scenario began to seem more and more unlikely, life happened:  a marriage, a mortgage, a child, a divorce, single-parenthood, a second marriage, a child off to college and the care of aging parents prompted me to simply “shut up and collect my pay.”  The other factor however, is that even if I had decided to leave this less than ideal situation earlier than I did, where might I have gone?  The seemingly universal appeal of the Dilbert comic strip suggests that my observations at “Company X” were not all that unique and I think many of us present and former “corporate drones” were more content to remain with the “devil we know” than to take a chance with the “devil we don’t know.”  When I finally did make the leap, it was after careful planning, a master’s degree in Education and an entirely new career as a self-employed private tutor.

As the internet and online opportunities continue to evolve, and the ongoing pandemic demonstrates that working from home is a plausible business model for many former cubicle dwellers, I predict that an increasing number of corporate employees may be motivated to take the leap into self-employment.  I highly recommend it – the commute time is less than five minutes, the dress code can best be described as business casual on the top, PJs on the bottom, and you can talk to yourself and count is as a staff meeting.