“You are very lucky,” my close friends said. “No more office politics.” Well, that’s open to interpretation. As a home-based freelancer, I have a different type of politics … one that revolves around my cat’s insistence on making my laptop his bed. (Cats are funny that way; they don’t believe in joint decision-making or any form of negotiation.)
Anyway, I have had more than my share of office politics during various stints with multinational companies. To me, office politicking is a draining, irritating, and an unproductive exercise, and nothing is scarier than the shadowy backstabbing type. It’s like going up against a Shogun ninja; you never know when the next stealth attack will come.
Having said that, I’m reminded of one former colleague who tried to bad-mouth me at every turn to anybody who would listen. To my face, however, she was the picture of charm, friendliness, and cooperation. Then, one day, during some banal exchanges on the way to the office pantry, she segued into the rumors of a newly created director post. (I had been wondering when she would bring up the topic.) “I’m sure you will get the job. The boss listens to you more,” she commented. Not true, I countered: “Anyone who knows me would know that I’m not interested. I just want to be left alone doing what I do best. In any case, my division is a cost center, yours is a profit-generating one. Bosses anywhere would pick you.”
No sale. She walked away convinced that I had ulterior motives up my sleeves (and hidden in every creases). My subordinates joked that every time I came out from management meetings, they saw dozens of arrows and knives sticking out of my back. Once they even sketched an armor plate on a foam-board and suggested that I put it on whenever Ms Back-Stabber came around. (N.B. She did become the Lady of All That She Surveys but by then I was no longer with the company.)
I’m a firm believer of meritocracy, and that bosses should rise above promoting Mr. Brown Noser, Ms. Blue-Eye Girl, Mr. Sycophant, or Mrs. Tattle-Tale. On the other hand, if a person wields such tremendous influence with the boss, then I believe he/she should use it for the greater good. How about reminding the boss of the skyrocketing inflation and recommend wage adjustments across the board? Or talk about how a fellow colleague is struggling to send her children to school, and urge the higher-ups to set up a scholarship or a grant?
Throughout the years, I have also lent my shoulders (and ears) to friends frustrated by office politics. It amazed me that the game is played even in the smallest of offices. Why, I continue to wonder, can’t everybody work together and let the chips fall when it comes to promotions or bonuses? Surely there are enough tasks in the office to keep everybody busy and forget about scheming to backstab others? Since when did we become so mean-spirited and power-hungry? What happened to esprit de corps? Or ethics and manners taught at home and in school?
On that note, I guess I’m truly lucky to be out of the corporate world. (Okay, cat, you can have the laptop. I’ll take your usual place on the sofa instead.)
