In Defence of Bosses
I-resign.com could stand accused of being unfair when it comes to our view of bosses. A few of our articles have railed against their excesses; numerous contributors to our discussion pages have pilloried their managers; our archive of resignation letters includes several scathing attacks on employers. As a means of providing some editorial balance and in recognition of all the bosses who use I-resign.com, read about the pressures many of them face throughout their glorious careers.
For those at the top of the pile the media is a constant worry. There is constant anxiety about how to manage perceptions and how to release bad news, when it comes, in a controlled way. Millions of pounds are spent on public relations and media training - even so, there's only so much that can be spun and patched up.
The press is always on the lookout for new prey to share with the public. The combined forces of the media have claimed dozens of heads - local councillors, senior executives and even world leaders. Our Big Quitters service chronicles, day-by-day, the departure of disgraced bosses. If you offend your shareholders, if your firm is found to be negligent or corrupt, if you are caught with your trousers around your ankles or your skirt hitched up, then your professional days may be numbered as a good story will almost always get out (or be kept on file for later release).
But what is it in society that brings down the successful and influential with such frequency? In Britain, the phenomenon has become known as Tall Poppy Syndrome. Certain individuals bloom over and above the rest of the field. We note their presence, grumble our disapproval and then respond gleefully when they are scythed down or strangled from below by weeds and pests. Of course, many people yearn to be one of the poppies that lasts - that lives tall and dies tall: this is why they continue to grow among us.
Yesterday, Jack Welch , the boss at General Electric, world-renowned manager and prototypical tall poppy, retired. BBC's Newsnight programme ran a feature which posed the question "Why is there no British Jack Welch?". The consensus was that success is scorned rather than celebrated in the UK. And if the press likes to harass those who actually deserve their exalted position, they really cannot restrain themselves when anyone with an obvious lack of expertise or charm rises to the top. Eventually there comes a point where the only acceptable outcome is resignation, usually in a blaze of camera flashes and shouted sarcasm. Be grateful if you are able to give notice behind closed doors, while nursing a cup of your boss's best coffee: your departure is unlikely to make the evening news.
Go into any forest * and you'll have a ringside seat at one of the world's greatest shows: the daily strife of the chimpanzee colony. The trials of the Alpha Male chimp, commonly called something like Snowflake, are a favourite topic for wildlife documentary makers. Usually the Alpha Male will be found noisily thrashing lesser chimps with a sapling. It certainly makes for some compelling viewing, not least because we can see how some of our own daily experiences mirror those in the chimp colony.
Were I the Chief Executive of a multinational megacorp, I'd watch primatology documentaries with special interest. In general, human society has moved on a little bit since our hooting, bone-throwing days, yet in the upper echelons of corporate society, the old ways have re-emerged. Multi-million dollar golden parachutes are held out to departing CEOs and similarly golden handshakes greet incoming executives - competition for top ranks is fierce. The aim of the game is security, wealth and power but all three can be lost overnight in the Machiavellian upper branches of management. Our Big Quitters section contains reports about a number of executives who left noisily after being passed over for promotion. Others have been forced out of the boardroom when allegiances dissolve about them, leaving them bruised and isolated. Office politics affects most layers of most workplaces, but the infighting appears to be so much more terminal, poisonous and public right at the top. Shed a tiny tear for the bosses, if you can.
So far we've seen how a boss's career can be ruined by the weight of mud thrown off of the presses and how green-eyed, cold-blooded colleagues can chase their own kind out of the boardroom. Disobedient or disruptive workers are another hazard and can threaten a manager's ability to do the job properly. In the army, such insubordination is treated harshly, and usually ends in blindfolds at dawn. The execution solution remains out of reach for most bosses - they have to rely on disciplinary action and sacking. Neither are as satisfying as the firing squad, but they generally work if one can keep the courts out of the equation. A boss can prepare for all of these threats in the course of his or her career, it's just part of the job.
The culprits behind acts of anonymous sabotage or subtle disobedience are much more difficult to confront. Indeed, if successful, they could take the boss's job. This is the workplace equivalent of asymmetric warfare. A quick glance today over an Internet discussion group revealed a selection of unconventional weapons managers find it difficult to guard against: unmistakeable traces of spit in one's coffee, the barely noticeable but highly suggestive adjustments made to one's business cards, deliberate misfiling of documents, purposeful deletion of voice mail, hacking, viral infection and vandalism of personal computers. The unwary boss faces a bewildering array of disruptive tactics if he or she stirs up resentment or shows weakness in front of the workers.
One case we've heard of stands out. After many months as a victim of poor treatment by an abusive control freak of a boss, the employee in question simply decided to carry out her duties while ignoring her boss. Relationships with customers and other departments (which had been in dire straits while her boss held her reins) improved radically. Before long, she had effectively usurped her boss's position. Realising what was going on, he went off on enraged rants about exactly who was in charge, in front of most of the company. But this response and further efforts to regain control just exacerbated his state of internal exile. Soon every other employee and executive took to bypassing him. In a final act of revenge, having saved the company by ignoring her boos, our heroine resigned, leaving the embittered victim to pick up the pieces...
We wonder how many more resignations have occurred after a manager has been outwitted or humiliated by an employee? Are those frequently reported intentions to spend more time with one's family and to pursue personal projects hiding a multitude of sad defeats?
Despite finding oneself at the centre of a machine which seems dedicated to the supply of endless chauffeur-driven Mercedes, bonuses, honours, personal assistants, bodyguards, first class flights, hotel suites and hookers, it's definitely tough at the top, there's no doubting that. Everybody else wants a piece of what you have: scheming sexual opportunists are prepared to suck, nibble and stroke their way into your favour; journalists want to make a name by spilling your beans and taking your scalp before holding it up for everyone to see; corporate psychopaths want to see you and your reputation in tatters; vengeful employees use their anonymity and guile to undermine you as you stand proud atop your management pedestal.
And once these enemies are fended off, your organisation's continued existence is at the mercy of the waves that pulse around global market. A chief executive can see his organisation holed below the waterline by foreign competition as he navigates through ever-choppier economic waters; or a whole sector can be dashed upon rocks revealed by sudden fluctuations in exchange rates. Then there are the tricky undercurrents of collective protest and dissent that every corporate hopeful must learn to swim along with or sometimes dive beneath.
So, in defence of bosses, though their actions may drive you to despair and resignation, they too are at the mercy of forces much greater than themselves. Faced with the confusing proliferation of management sticks, buttons, screens and levers that govern complex organisations, could you do a better job of doing the right thing, at the right time, than they do?