I’m new, and this is my first post to ANY blog. “Creating a New World seemed like a good place to start.
My first thought was, there is no hope: the World has been an evolving catastrophe for over 300,000 years, and that seems to be what the Divine Cosmic Mind designed it to be.
In my six decades of life
the country (USA) has gone to the dogs,
the economy has become a gulag,
the public mind has gone down the toilet,
my body has succumbed to all the indignities of old age—
and my workplace has become a very much better place to be.
Woops! How did that last item get in there???
But it’s true. I look at my own life and I see that my workplace is a different world from what it was 26 years ago when I entered it.
How did THAT happen?
On the off-chance that there might be something more there than random luck, let’s consider it. It might give heart to someone else down in the trenches. Maybe there IS the possibility of a better world—around our immediate selves, at least.
I came to the company I work at after some really bad experiences working for shamelessly exploitive employers. I had been economically trapped.
One previous employer was a for-real psychopath, and I was scared stiff for several years on end. When I finally extricated myself, I knew the smell of psychopath, and I knew the smell of decency. The people I went to work under at my next job were decent folks.
Note: I had a choice, there. Not everyone always has choice, but when you have it, take it!
My new workplace was a small company, light manufacturing. I was middle management: I had to spend most of my days working with and supervising people that worked hard for small money. I did have regular exchanges with the top managers, and I functioned as a kind of go-between, responding to the needs and demands of both sides. In order to do my job, I had to maintain respect and credibility of employees, my boss, and other managers.
It certainly wasn’t all sweetness and light. The owner of the company embodies the fashion for ruthless, hard-nosed business style, and that set the tone for my manager, too.
There was one department (not under my supervision) in which half a dozen people spent 8 hours a day cursing and yelling at one another, and they weren’t joking. I cringed whenever I had to pass through.
Down in the trenches, there was at least one supervisor using his authority to extort sexual favors.
The purchasing agent’s idea of entertainment was to drive people to their wits’ ends.
There was just some plain old personality conflicts and bullying going on.
In the midst of this I had to direct people, hire and fire, enforce policy and rules, and make recommendations about promotions and pay, work with other managers and give input to higher management on questions of personnel policy.
Business is definitely an STS world. If a business cannot hold its own in the shark tank, it goes belly-up, and lots of people lose their livelihoods.
There has to be enough in it for the owners to put up with the headaches involved; the product has to be priced to sell in the marketplace.
It is simple truth that the interests of labor and management are diametrically opposed; they are natural enemies: management wants to pay as little as possible, to get as much work as possible, and to exert as much close control as possible. Labor wants more money, less labor and more freedom.
Fortunately, both Labor and Management in this organization were also mostly decent people, with some respect for the reasonable expectations of one another.
Still, when the hard questions arose, my boss always started from the hard-nosed attitude that management had pressing reasons to take advantage, had the power to take advantage, and I should support it “for the good of the company”. Well, the company does have its legitimate requirements, but . . .
In these negotiations I was the only one in a position to speak up for not-screwing the employees. And anything I might have to say always sounded lame in the context of hard-nosed executive reasoning. I certainly didn’t have any room to get up on any moral high horse.
But it was my job and my role to speak for the employees, and I did, or I registered my unease with something I thought was not right. Maybe not very loud, not very eloquently, not very bravely.
I can’t tell you how many times a voice in my head warned me that my bosses were going to despise me and laugh at me and write me off as a bleeding heart.
I never went out of those meetings with the idea I’d won anything for anyone.
I took defeats. I had to be careful. I had to retain the confidence of my superiors that I was working on their team. As soon as they started to think that I was flaky or a communist, I’d lose any influence at all, and probably lose my job.
But often after such meetings, after the decision had been made over my head, the result showed that I’d been heard. I never heard the words, “You were right.” But over the years, the pattern of company decisions showed a consistent respect for employee welfare.
More powerful than that, newly hired personnel brought in a higher decency-level. “Birds of a feather flock together”, and the company flock began attracting more human beings.
The employees who cursed and yelled moved on, replaced by civil and sociable individuals. The top management got wise to the troublesome purchasing agent, and replaced him with a human being. The abusive line supervisor picked on the wrong girl, got fired for sexual harassment, and was replaced by a human being.
After twenty-odd years, my manager has almost entirely dropped the pose of hard-nosed ruthlessness. There is a real camaraderie in the factory. People have left to take jobs that paid more, and then come back after a few years.
It’s certainly nothing like heaven. It’s a job, in a pecking order. (And I don’t even LIKE my job—never have. I spent the fire of my youth trying to ‘make it’ as an artist.) At a certain point, though, I looked around myself and saw that my workplace is pretty good, for a pecking order. It’s not good, but it’s better—for me and for the hundred and more other people who spend 8 hours a day in it.
And my big, heroic contribution was to say a few lame words when I felt I had to. It would have done nothing, except that I kept saying them, for years and years. The secret was, there were ears hidden behind hard poses; there was conscience hidden behind hard poses; there was a will to do the right thing, given the opportunity and the excuse to do so. I may have made it just a little bit harder to ignore their conscience.
So, what seemed to help was simple persistence in being a human being.
That seemed to help make a better world.
Do your best to be a real human being in this slaughterhouse. Do what it takes to preserve your own humanity, and then act from your humanity, as opportunity permits.
We cannot know what the consequences will be. It might come to something.