Humour

Why most workplaces don’t work

T A Balasubramanian analyses why offices are bad places to work.

In his famously disconcerting style, Dr Don Jong takes up another session with Bobo Jitter, the frequently-bewildered CIO of Bazooka Company. Dubbed The Oddfather because of the unusual fixes that he offers, Dr Jong has an undisputed talent for dealing with technology’s multi-faceted challenges at work and at play.

“One of the strangest and most disturbing things I notice about working with technology, Doc, is that great blogs and fine software are often created by people at home.”

“Why is it strange, Bobo?” says Dr Jong, tapping the ashes from his curved pipe into a tray smartly.

“But it should be. It’s the equivalent of a home-made toy aircraft shooting down a jet plane. Companies like Bazooka spend millions to build office buildings for a single purpose—to be a place to work. And yet people working in their own homes, which aren’t even designed to be workplaces, end up being more productive.”

“Do you suppose people are generally contrarian?”

“Well, not exactly. But this proves something I have always suspected. The average office is a miserable place to get work done. And what makes offices bad for work? These are the very qualities we associate with professionalism.”

“Ah, explain that to me Bobo?”

“You see, the sterility and formality of offices is supposed to suggest efficiency. But suggesting efficiency is a different thing from actually being efficient. The look and feel of the average workplace is to productivity what wild horses painted on the side of an express train are to speed. They are all appearance, and which fish enjoys being paraded inside a fish-bowl?”

“A show-fish?”

“And it’s not just the way offices look that’s bleak. The way people act is just as bad. They are like puppets wearing polite faces and making courteous noises at each other while waiting for the ordeal to end each evening and rush back home to really unwind.”

“Who would blame them? They are, after all, human.”

“I visit a lot of startup companies and see how different they can be. Quite often, a startup begins in an apartment with a few highly passionate people—like kids in a toy store, full of wild enthusiasm. Instead of rows of matching grey vinyl-wall cubicles they have an assortment of second-hand furniture. They work odd hours, thrive on junk food and wear the most casual of clothing. They look at whatever they want online without worrying whether it’s ‘ethically and legally safe.’ Instead of the artificial cheery, bland language of the big, established office, I find healthy irreverence and wicked humour. And you know what? The company at this stage is probably the most productive that it is ever going to be.”

“Maybe human brains function better when they are surrounded by a relaxed space and an absence of stuffy rules. And coincidentally, startups happen to be almost like homes. So relaxed, so informal.”

“Maybe it’s not a coincidence, Doc. Maybe some aspects of IT professionalism are actually bad for humans who are required to work together and use their brains to get things done.”

“What are these, umm, aspects, Bobo?”

“To me the most deflating aspect of working at Bazooka is that you’re supposed to be there at certain fixed times. There are only a few people in who really have to, but for most of the others, like my programming guys, going by the clock makes no sense.”

“Ah, Bobo, there is a good reason why most employees are forced to work for fixed hours.”

“And what is that reason, Doc?”

“Well, consider the possibility that the average big company cannot measure their productivity if they are too relaxed, as they would be at home.”

“Could you explain that, Doc?”

“Ah, my boy, the basic idea behind office hours is that if you cannot make people work—and who can see inside their brains to determine if they are actually ticking with profitable ideas every minute?—well, at least, you can prevent them from having fun.”

“Why is removing fun important?”

“It is based on the fundamental assumption that work cannot be fun. If employees have to be in the building wearing serious expressions for a certain number of hours a day, and are forbidden to do non-work things while they are held captive there, then they must be working. At least in theory.”

“Which, of course, is incorrect?”

“Yes. As you have noticed yourself about bloggers and software guys who do their best work at home. In practice the ritual office-goers spend a lot of their time in a state of suspended animation, where they are neither working nor having fun. They are like frozen monkeys in a cage.”

“At last, Doc, you have a monkey tale, I see.”

“But of course, Bobo. If you could measure how much work people did, many companies would not need any fixed working hours each day. You could just say—this is what you have to do. Fetch this many bananas for the corporate kitty. Do it whenever you like, wherever you like. If your work requires you to talk to other people in the company in face-to-face mode, then you may need to be here at certain times. Otherwise we do not care about facetime. We will count the bananas and know what you did.”

“I wish Bazooka would be like that, Doc.”

“Well, my boy, it can be done—this unfreezing of the monkey cage. I used to run a small business with a bunch of bright, bushy-tailed kids in my early years. There were no fixed office hours. I never showed up before 11 in the morning. But I was not actually being benevolent. I told them—if you work here we expect you to get a lot done. Do not try to fool me just by being here a lot. Get me the bananas in your own time. Dump your watches.”

“But for us in Bazooka, facetime is absolutely essential, Doc. If my boss does not see me rooted in my seat at 10 am, I get ticked off. It’s not as if I get anything done in the first 3 hours of the day—since it goes by in a hazy review meeting that I am expected to attend—at least my body is expected to.”

“Ah, the problem with the facetime model, Bobo, is that it is conducive to producing the regular experience of disembodiment as you have correctly observed. For one year I worked at a regular nine to five job, and I remember well the strange, cozy feeling that comes over one during meetings. I, for one, am convinced the facetime model is the main reason large organisations like Bazooka have so many meetings. Per capita, large organisations accomplish very little.”

“That’s right, Doc. Yet all those people—or at least their physical bodies—have to be on site at least eight hours a day. When so much time goes in one end and so little achievement comes out the other, something has to give. And meetings are the main mechanism for taking up the slack. They legitimise the frozen monkey cage syndrome.”

“Voila, you comprehend! You are now ready to scramble out of the icy workplace and unfreeze with aplomb, my friend.”