Shut This Down!
Chapter 23 in my ongoing story about workplace surveillance.
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Cascade was pissed. Not only did this fucking analyst release these damned “friction reports” to the whole team, but Stamper told him she was taking two days “offline,” as she called it.
“You can’t go ‘offline,’ Stamper,” said Cascade when she told him that she was going to be out of touch for the weekend. “There’s no offline for Level 8s! You need to be accessible at all times!”
“Mitch, you know the newest LP about us being the best employer on earth? Well, that means sometimes we have to set work aside for a couple days. I’ve got some personal stuff I need to deal with. And it’s the weekend.”
“What personal stuff? What if you’re needed?”
“Mitch, I’m taking two days off!” she insisted.
“Nothing better happen!,” he groused. And as far as he knew, nothing happened.
Stamper wasn’t surprised to find Cascade waiting for her in her office when she arrived on Monday morning. But she was surprised to see him smiling, and for him to hand her a Starbucks cup. “It’s your favorite, Stamper: double mocha breve, extra hot.”
She had expected something different: when she fired up her phone after getting home on Sunday night, the notifications exploded across all channels: email, voicemail, Chime, Slack, even Messages and WhatsApp. Fully 75 percent of them were from Cascade, and they grew increasingly terse and angry:
“Stamper, I know you said you were going offline but give me a quick call. I want to talk about these reports your analyst produced.”
“Stamper, we need to discuss these friction reports. Call me.”
“Dammit Stamper, this is serious. I need you to reply.”
“Friction! What bullshit. I need you to shut it down!”
“CALL ME!!!”
On principle, she didn’t reply. He needed to know she had boundaries.
When he said, “Good to see you Stamper, I hope you had a relaxing weekend,” she figured he must have decided to take a different approach than the full-on anger she had heard in his message. Still, she was wary.
“It was nice to step away,” she agreed.
“Where’d you go?” he inquired sweetly.
She cocked her head to the side and looked at him. What was he after? Had he discovered something about her trip?
“What?” he said, putting on his most innocent smile, “Can’t I inquire about your weekend?”
“I got your messages,” she replied.
“Oh boy, yeah, those,” he said, “I had kind of worked myself up, but then my wife reminded me that you probably just needed a little space. I’m really sorry about that.”
Stamper sensed a trap. She had never heard Cascade apologize for anything. But she had to give him a chance.
“Well ... thanks,” she said slowly. “Apology accepted. And, yeah, I had a good time. But I’m ready to be back to work.”
“Good, Stamper, good. But uh, did you think about work at all? Like, did you have any thoughts about those ... uh, those ... FUCK ... FUCK ... FUCK ... those FUCKING reports your goddamned tight-assed analyst put together?” He had tried to keep it cool, but now that was blown. He was hot, his hands balled into fists, pressed together in front of his chest. He glared at Stamper.
“Mitch,” she said as evenly as she could, “there’s a lot in those reports I don’t agree with ...”
“Good, I’m glad to hear it, so what are you going to ...” he blurted.
“Hold on Mitch,” she said, “there’s also some stuff in there that we need to consider carefully.”
“Bullshit! The only thing we need to consider is how fast we fire this guy.”
“We are not firing Keith Conn,” Stamper said slowly and deliberately. “Mitch, we need to look at what this data is telling us, to see what we can do to improve our program.”
“You’re being too soft, Stamper, don’t you see? This Keith guy may act like he’s on your team, but he’s trying to fuck you. He’s trying to fuck you!!! He wants people to see that they can question you and get away with it. If you don’t shut it down RIGHT NOW, you’ve lost. Lost! You’ve got to make an example of this guy and assert your leadership! If you don’t do it, I will.”
“Mitch, that’s not how I lead! And you can’t fire my direct report.”
“What are you going to do, coddle this little weasel?”
“I was going to discuss it with him. He’s got some good points in there, stuff we need to consider.”
“That’s weakness Stamper! You can’t show weakness!”
“Mitch, I’m trying to build people up, build their capacity. I’m not trying to establish dominance.”
“Big mistake! I’d fire him this morning, and announce to the team that he had released fabricated data. In fact, you’ve got an all-hands coming up soon, you could do it there.”
“First, it’s not fabricated ... and if what it shows is true, then we need to consider some adjustments in our program. Second, there is no case in which I’d use an all-hands to announce that we’ve fired someone, for god’s sake. Mitch!!”
“Since we’re numbering our points, Stamper,” Mitch growled with an unusual ferocity, “let me take a shot. First, true is what you say is true. You’re in charge—you’re the boss. Second, the best way to keep your team in line is to show them what you’re capable of. If it were me, I’d say that data was falsified, fire the guy, and get on with the program. I guarantee you any pushback would disappear overnight. You’ve got to toughen up. We’re trying to build perfect Amazonians!,” and only there did his face shift back to the wolfish grin that sat so comfortably on his face.
“That’s just not me Mitch. I couldn’t look my employees in the eye after pulling those moves,” said Stamper.
“Yes, Stamper, you could!” asserted Cascade. “It’s called leadership! You are the leader—you get to decide what’s true, and show people you’re willing to enforce it. When you’re strong, people follow.”
Stamper looked into Cascade’s eyes. He was one of the smartest people she had run into, and one of the most charismatic. His physical presence and his smile were electric, instantly persuading nearly everyone he met that he was in charge, that he should be followed. But the more she got to know him, the more she worked with him, she also saw that he had an insatiable appetite for control and dominance. He wanted to exert control over others by force of will, and he wanted her to do the same. Was this what it took to be a leader? Or were these the traits of a psychopath?
“Mitch, I know you want me to succeed, and I really appreciate you being so candid with me, but I need to think about it,” she replied.
“What’s there to think about Stamper, just do it!,” he grinned insistently.
“I just need to think about how to do it my way, to be sure that I can project leadership in ways my team will find authentic,” she explained.
“Fine Stamper, but do it soon! Time’s a wasting!” He flashed her a big thumbs up, beamed his maniacal grin, and walked out the door. She knew she didn’t have long.
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