The Boston Phoenix
October 14 - 21, 1999

[Out There]

Slow company

Why raises are better than an on-site masseuse

by Kris Frieswick

I walked into my office last month and found an invoice lying on my desk, waiting for my approval. This wasn't a big deal, except it was a type of invoice normally approved by my co-worker, and she had clearly palmed it off on me. I'm as much of a team player as the next person, but, curious about the protocol change, I brought it to her and asked why she had passed it off. She looked at me as if I'd just farted.

"I'm not going to be doing that sort of thing anymore," she said. "That type of task just doesn't dovetail into my long-term career goals at this time."

Speechless, I watched as she lowered her head and returned to her task -- one that apparently dovetailed into her long-term career goals. Sweet baby Jesus, I thought as I stood there. It's here. The Fast Company psychobabble has arrived.


For so long, I thought we were immune.

In case you've missed it, a plague of self-empowerment-speak has spread through the business world over the past couple of years. Thanks to the relentless, almost messianic urging of magazines like Fast Company and the armies of apostolic consultants traveling the globe to spread the "work is life" gospel, employees everywhere are no longer content just to do their jobs, collect a paycheck, and go home. Now you are supposed to act like a freelancer, keep looking for the next big thing, and market yourself ceaselessly to anyone who will stand still long enough to listen. Like clones of the motivational giant Tony Roberts, these droids preach that a paycheck is no longer enough, that you are doing yourself a grave disservice if you fail to demand more of yourself, your co-workers, and your employer -- after all, you deserve it, you gifted individual you.

But not at my office. My co-workers and I had somehow avoided the urge to be our own bosses, develop the "brand called me," create the "wow" project, balance our careers and lives, build teamwide consensus, destroy our business model, evolve a democratic organizational structure, and leverage our core competencies. Instead, we just worked hard and went home.

But here it was, as plain as the unapproved invoice in my hand. Frankly, I was surprised it had taken so long for the Word to infiltrate our happy office space. I should have known the jig was up when this same employee talked our boss into a "team building" exercise at a local hotel to identify ways for us to work better together. None of us ever saw all those flip charts and diagrams again, but it was really expensive, so that was nice. We never had another one.

This woman's desire to view the world through "me"-colored glasses is on some level commendable, and probably wise. Day-to-day, however, while these fast groupies are "inventing their future" and "maximizing the personal rate of return," who the hell is going to do all the work? While my co-worker was pursuing her long-term career goals, some poor photographer somewhere wasn't getting paid, and I'm guessing that that wasn't part of his intended financial trajectory.


Employees everywhere are starting to buy into this crap, viewing themselves as indispensable and demanding that their workplace treat them like free agents who can take their vast talents elsewhere if they aren't worshipped sufficiently. And they should be worshipped, but only if they actually have vast talents. Let's be honest. What percentage of the working population is that good? Does my co-worker have some sort of
invoice-processing acumen that would be impossible to duplicate? I mean, the woman uses the word "dovetail" in casual conversation. Still, companies are beginning to kowtow to the prima donnas, terrified of losing breathing bodies, regardless of their talent level, in a negative-unemployment marketplace.

I believe they do so at their own peril.

Like a dysfunctional family council where Dad has lost the deciding vote, some companies are so mired in the democratic approach to management that nothing can be done until everyone is consulted, lest anyone feel uninvolved or undervalued. Now companies try to achieve "buy-in" from all "stakeholders" who have their own "vested interests in the outcome." This means group consensus on everything from the mission statement to the color of the company's toilet paper. In addition, companies have begun to deluge their employees with the "tools and surroundings" they need for personal advancement. They are spending gobs of cash to create a milieu in which creativity can bubble to the surface -- like methane gas at a landfill.

Take, for instance, Reebok. Reliable sources report that the management team there has a nearly cultlike devotion to the books of business and motivational guru Tom Peters (every employee got one). The Stoughton campus has an on-site gym, tennis courts, tai chi, aerobics, basketball, in-line hockey courts, a Spinning studio, and a masseuse, all to help employees get in touch with the customers' needs. (They should just spend Saturday at the mall, which is where most of Reebok's customers hang out.) Earlier this year, to "help" employees confront the deep-seated psychological reasons why they, not management, were responsible for Reebok's recent sales hemorrhage, several departments were scheduled to attend Landmark, the spruced-up cousin of the '70s brainwashing program est. (Employee protests put a stop to the plan.)

Other companies resort to plain old bribery to keep the Isadora Duncans happy. At one technology company in Natick, employees have an on-site dry cleaner and restaurant, after-work beer parties, and impromptu company celebrations in which the senior executive teams dress up in funny costumes and hand out bonus checks, all in order to make the employees feel . . . Christ, I don't know how that's supposed to make the employees feel. I mean, how would you feel if you saw your CEO in a tutu? Maybe he should change back into a business suit and try doing something about last year's 50 percent drop in the company's earnings per share. (You probably won't read about that in Fast Company.)

Here's a suggestion for fast companies everywhere: take all the money that you want to spend on empowerment training, morale-boosting trips, tutus, masseuses, humanistic wall colors, on-site dry cleaners, aromatherapy air fresheners in the ladies' room, and after-work beer parties and, instead, give your employees a great big raise -- not a bonus, a real live raise. (On second thought . . . keep the beer parties.) One day, fast companies will wake up and realize that people work harder, are more loyal, and stick around longer when they consistently make more money. Money is and will continue to be the most powerful productivity enhancer known to humankind.

Oh, and fire the prima donnas. Only rarely are they worth the hassle.

Kris Frieswick is a finance-magazine editor and writer living in Newton. She can be reached at krisf1@gte.net.

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