Little Things
When I was about five years old or so, I appeared on a local NYC television show called "The Baby Game", which to the best of my memory, featured children from infants/toddlers to pre-schoolers doing assorted things. They would have, for example, baby races where infants would race to crawl to their mothers, that sort of thing.
When I was on, I was given a simple task: there were three of these
blow-up clown dolls we used to have as kids, with a pocket of sand at the bottom so that if you punched it it came right back up again. I haven't seen kids playing with these things for many years so I don't know if you younger people know what the heck I'm talking about. Ayyhow, these three "bop bags" as they were called were lined up in a row, with chairs behind each of them. We were told by the host that these three needed to "take a nape" and I was supposed to help them lie down. They would then film me in the process of trying to lay across the three clowns and keep them down. Easy enough since they were close together.
They took me out of the room and brought me back in with the same three clowns and gave me the same situation, except that this time the clowns were in different parts of the room, way too far apart to be able to do the same thing twice. After a moment I decided to make use of the chairs, I lowered the clown's head down and placed the chair (which was like a lawn chair, not heavy but heavy enough to keep the clown horizontal) on top of it to keep it there. The host seemed (or so I thought) genuinely surprised to have seen my solution to this problem. In short, I used my brain to compensate where my physical skills were inadeqaute to the task. Some people call this "efficiency", I call it "applied laziness".
I bring this up because it was what helped me out at work on Friday, when I was having a particularly bad day. For the last two weeks I have been taken off the paint line where I work and moved elsewhere, I'm not really sure if there's a purpose behind it all, but that's what's been happening to me. Friday I was put on one of the big, thirty-foot presses which was pumping out these three-foot long pieces of rectangular metal. I was familiar with this "trim" (as we call any item that's not an actual box), and I had done this kind of work before, only with smaller versions of it, one to two foot long. The three-footers are the longest one they have. And I started, at the beginning, to do them the same I way I did the smaller trim, by getting five at a time and placing them in the nearby basket. But I couldn't do that with these, five were just plain too heavy for me, especially with my bad back. The trim started piling up, and I even got a nasty bruise on my arm when a piece fell on me as I was reaching for one that fell on the floor. They had to stop the machine so I could get caught up, which is never a good thing.
I knew I would never be able to maintain this pace all day, my back would never hold up to the strain. And my future at this company depends a lot on my being able to perform all kinds of work, so there was no getting out of it. I simply had to come up with a way to keep up with the machine (which was spitting out a new part every three seconds or so) without killing myself. And I did. The parts came out of the machine onto a table which is higher than the baskets I was placing them in. When the stack of trim got high enough I could simply slide the trim over withouit lifting them hardly at all. The problems occurred when I had to place the trim at the far end of the basket, taking a couple of steps back. This took too much time and there was no way I could keep up. So my solution was a simple one: move the baskets up so that I could more easily slide the trim into it with only a marginal tap to keep them in order. It was still a bit of a pain to keep them stacked at the beginning and I still had the occasional problems, but all in all I managed to stay at that machine all day and do the work I was supposed to do and not overexert myself in the process. SO once more, just as when I was on that TV show, my brain compensated for my physical shortcomings. Chalk up another victory for applied laziness.
I told you that story to tell you this one.
Even though I managed to survive that ordeal, the truth of the matter is that I should never have been put where I was to begin with. I'm not a very strong or physically gifted person, one look at me will tell you that, and yet my supervisor saw fit to put me somewhere I had no business being in. I'm not sure exactly what his motivations were for doing so. Someone told me that they're moving me around because they're grooming me for a supervisory position and want to see how well I can pick up on all the different jobs there are there, I personally am wondering if they're looking to get rid of me by placing me in uncomfortable spots, hoping I'll quit so tha they won't have to fire me...either way, in my eyes a supervisor shouldn't send a little guy like me to do a job that's best suited for someone taller or stronger. Managers always seem to pull stuff like this, and their motivations for doing so vary from workplace to workplace.
While there are a lot of important issues American workers are faced with, things like pay and working conditions, it's little things that go on that causethe most stress, like getting moved around a lot or pointless rules or policies that don't seem to serve any purpose apart from thise above you trying to prove how much control they have over your life. You all know what I'm talking about. You've just accomplished something important and you take a moment to catch a well-earned breath, and there's the boss right on top of you to tell you to stop slacking off. Or you work at a plant like mine and there's no more work for the last five minutes or so, so they shove a broom in your hands and make you sweep, or
pretend to sweep, because you are apparently required to be physically active every second regardless of how little there really is to do. Timing you when you go to the restroom. Making you do something just to see how you react. I could right pages and pages of examples, and I'm sure all of you could add your own, because all workplaces are the same in that regard.
I'm not a lazy person, and neither are most people. I work very hard and I keep focused on the task at hand and I am always trying to find a way to accomplish the most whole exerting the least energy. Applied laziness isn't a detriment to work, it's an asset, but all too often management is less interested in the actual needs of the workplace than they are in playing their own petty little games. It's even worse when you have a supervisor (like I do) who has never had to do what you are doing and worse, doesn't even really know how. In small, family-run companies this can be bad because your supervisor may be the owner, who has his/her own way of doing things and they're not interested in having it done differently, even if it can be done better. In larger companies, upper management may even view rudeness and lack of compassion in middle managers as being more important than, say, competence. I for one see no point in all of this. If your purpose is to produce as much as possible, how is pissing off your employees helping you to reach that goal?
As with all other things, I take a very practical point of view on this issue. What are the company's goals for the day? How do we best accomplish this? And is there a way of exceeding these goals, or accomplishing them as simply as possible? If companies would keep themselves focused on these matters and not spend so much time and energy looking to think up little ways to exert control over their employees, the workplace might be a better place for everyone, workers and supervisors alike. Big issues will always be there, but they can only be addressed when there is an atmosphere of trust and cooperation between labor and management, and it's the little things that set the stage for that kind of trust.