Troy McNaughtonBad Managers in Sydney--Part Three
December 31st 2007 12:40
Bad Managers in Sydney—Part Three
Bridie O’Wiggie, Operations Manager
Bridie O’Wiggie was different from most bad managers I have met. While ambitious and occasionally ruthless, she was not power-hungry or vindictive. She was perhaps the truest example of the Peter Principle—that people are promoted to their level of incompetence.
Bridie was so unattractive that she frightened people. A firm believer in the ‘can-do’ attitude, Bridie systematically and ineptly attacked her appearance one element at a time. A creature of impulse, Bridie opted for the quick fix as opposed to the careful makeover. Bridie had teeth sticking out at crazy angles. Lacking the patience for traditional orthodontia, Bridie had her teeth capped, resulting in a mouthful of dull, squarish piano keys. Bridie’s natural ginger hair was unmanageable, so she covered it with a black wig that resembled an electrocuted cat. Her skin was the palest pale short of albino, so she periodically went for dark orangey spray-tans.
Homely but clever women often resort to fabulous wardrobes to distract attention from their looks, and Bridie spent a lot of money on her clothes. Unfortunately, her taste ran to vivid colours, busy prints, rhinestones, and outré stiletto heels, usually all in the same outfit.
Looks are unimportant. I’ve mentioned Bridie’s only because the way she dealt with hers is a perfect example of the way she dealt with everything—tremendous enthusiasm, bad judgment, and no forethought.
Bridie really tried to be a good manager. Her bookshelf was lined with titles like “The 50 Habits of Successful Managers,” books full of clichés and dumbed-down McNuggets of information designed for people like her, busy people with short attention spans who believe that for every problem, there is a quick fix.
Bridie gleaned the following ideas from her library of management theory drivel:
• A good manager has a sense of humour.
Bridie did not get jokes, but she learned to recognise from facial expression and tone of voice that a joke had been made. She would force a laugh, but only after taking a split second to send the joke through her political correctness filter.
• A good manager promotes a ‘fun’ workplace.
Bridie did not understand fun, either. Fun is essentially pointless, and Bridie never did anything without a goal in mind. But since the management manual said that employees work harder if they have fun, Bridie organised cricket matches, trivia contests, and Easter egg hunts. She never noticed that employees resented this enforced jollity, as it often meant that they would have to stay back to get their work done.
• Having a company mascot is a great idea to improve morale.
Why stop at one mascot? Bridie populated the office with several, all of them stuffed animals that made some sort of noise when you pulled a string.
• Team-building exercises foster an atmosphere of cooperation.
Bridie forced all team leaders to conduct team-building exercises with their plebs. We did. Nothing changed.
• Negative language leads to an unproductive work atmosphere.
Bridie forbade us to say ‘no problem’ or ‘no worries’ on the grounds that these ‘negative’ phrases falsely implied that our company had problems and things to worry about. (We had a 48% turnover rate. No problem!)
Would that Bridie’s shortcomings had been limited to a love of hideous clothes and goofy management theories. Unfortunately, she had an explosive Irish temper and a ‘ready, fire, aim’ style of implementing her madcap schemes.
Bridie announced that the Quality Control department would be a thing of the past. Why? Bridie decreed that ‘going forward’ (one of her favourite phrases) no one was allowed to make mistakes, therefore, Quality Control was not necessary. Bridie shouted down anyone who predicted this would not work. Once Quality Control was gone, Bridie shouted down anyone who told her it was not working. When clients started complaining about defective products, Bridie shouted at the employees who had made the mistakes. When employees quit because of the verbal abuse, Bridie shouted at the team leaders for not retaining staff. When the team leaders resigned, Bridie hired new ones and shouted at them when mistakes kept happening. Finally, Quality Control was brought back. Bridie claimed that she had been opposed to the demise of Quality Control all along, and blamed the fiasco on another manager who had left the company.
Variations of the Quality Control debacle never stopped happening. Bridie instigated many other costly disasters, and to my knowledge she was not held responsible for any of them. The Director lived on a higher plane of existence, buzzing in and out of the office with his mobile stuck to his ear, repeating ‘price per unit’ and ‘return on investment’ like a mantra. My guess is that Bridie presented him with a spreadsheet of massaged figures and distracted him with fanciful descriptions of her next master plan.
My, this post is getting long. I haven’t the space to describe Bridie’s many other displays of bad judgment and just plain lunacy. I bailed from the company when Bridie sent a lackey to our overseas branch to sort out the problems they were having with English. The lackey was a functional illiterate who failed to solve the problems and created several more. Upon her return to Australia, the lackey was promoted.
I declined an exit interview.
Bridie O’Wiggie, Operations Manager
Bridie O’Wiggie was different from most bad managers I have met. While ambitious and occasionally ruthless, she was not power-hungry or vindictive. She was perhaps the truest example of the Peter Principle—that people are promoted to their level of incompetence.
Bridie was so unattractive that she frightened people. A firm believer in the ‘can-do’ attitude, Bridie systematically and ineptly attacked her appearance one element at a time. A creature of impulse, Bridie opted for the quick fix as opposed to the careful makeover. Bridie had teeth sticking out at crazy angles. Lacking the patience for traditional orthodontia, Bridie had her teeth capped, resulting in a mouthful of dull, squarish piano keys. Bridie’s natural ginger hair was unmanageable, so she covered it with a black wig that resembled an electrocuted cat. Her skin was the palest pale short of albino, so she periodically went for dark orangey spray-tans.
Homely but clever women often resort to fabulous wardrobes to distract attention from their looks, and Bridie spent a lot of money on her clothes. Unfortunately, her taste ran to vivid colours, busy prints, rhinestones, and outré stiletto heels, usually all in the same outfit.
Looks are unimportant. I’ve mentioned Bridie’s only because the way she dealt with hers is a perfect example of the way she dealt with everything—tremendous enthusiasm, bad judgment, and no forethought.
Bridie really tried to be a good manager. Her bookshelf was lined with titles like “The 50 Habits of Successful Managers,” books full of clichés and dumbed-down McNuggets of information designed for people like her, busy people with short attention spans who believe that for every problem, there is a quick fix.
Bridie gleaned the following ideas from her library of management theory drivel:
• A good manager has a sense of humour.
Bridie did not get jokes, but she learned to recognise from facial expression and tone of voice that a joke had been made. She would force a laugh, but only after taking a split second to send the joke through her political correctness filter.
• A good manager promotes a ‘fun’ workplace.
Bridie did not understand fun, either. Fun is essentially pointless, and Bridie never did anything without a goal in mind. But since the management manual said that employees work harder if they have fun, Bridie organised cricket matches, trivia contests, and Easter egg hunts. She never noticed that employees resented this enforced jollity, as it often meant that they would have to stay back to get their work done.
• Having a company mascot is a great idea to improve morale.
Why stop at one mascot? Bridie populated the office with several, all of them stuffed animals that made some sort of noise when you pulled a string.
• Team-building exercises foster an atmosphere of cooperation.
Bridie forced all team leaders to conduct team-building exercises with their plebs. We did. Nothing changed.
• Negative language leads to an unproductive work atmosphere.
Bridie forbade us to say ‘no problem’ or ‘no worries’ on the grounds that these ‘negative’ phrases falsely implied that our company had problems and things to worry about. (We had a 48% turnover rate. No problem!)
Would that Bridie’s shortcomings had been limited to a love of hideous clothes and goofy management theories. Unfortunately, she had an explosive Irish temper and a ‘ready, fire, aim’ style of implementing her madcap schemes.
Bridie announced that the Quality Control department would be a thing of the past. Why? Bridie decreed that ‘going forward’ (one of her favourite phrases) no one was allowed to make mistakes, therefore, Quality Control was not necessary. Bridie shouted down anyone who predicted this would not work. Once Quality Control was gone, Bridie shouted down anyone who told her it was not working. When clients started complaining about defective products, Bridie shouted at the employees who had made the mistakes. When employees quit because of the verbal abuse, Bridie shouted at the team leaders for not retaining staff. When the team leaders resigned, Bridie hired new ones and shouted at them when mistakes kept happening. Finally, Quality Control was brought back. Bridie claimed that she had been opposed to the demise of Quality Control all along, and blamed the fiasco on another manager who had left the company.
Variations of the Quality Control debacle never stopped happening. Bridie instigated many other costly disasters, and to my knowledge she was not held responsible for any of them. The Director lived on a higher plane of existence, buzzing in and out of the office with his mobile stuck to his ear, repeating ‘price per unit’ and ‘return on investment’ like a mantra. My guess is that Bridie presented him with a spreadsheet of massaged figures and distracted him with fanciful descriptions of her next master plan.
My, this post is getting long. I haven’t the space to describe Bridie’s many other displays of bad judgment and just plain lunacy. I bailed from the company when Bridie sent a lackey to our overseas branch to sort out the problems they were having with English. The lackey was a functional illiterate who failed to solve the problems and created several more. Upon her return to Australia, the lackey was promoted.
I declined an exit interview.
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