When the senior VP was about to retire the “word” went out that the company desired there be a “large appreciative crowd” that would fill the company’s auditorium for the farewell ceremony that would honor the officer’s long service. The “request/order” to have all departments strongly represented cascaded through the email forwards for several days.
The crowd showed up. Some no doubt truly wanted to be there, for they knew and respected the retiree for his good work. For others the function probably met the test of compulsory fun. All levels of authority were in the audience, from the retiree’s peers in the company’s officer ranks down through the VPs and middle management directors, all the way through group managers and front-line supervisors to the individual contributors in the rank and file.
So what if the size of the audience was hyped a bit by the email “orders”? The retiree had, in fact, rendered good service for many years and probably deserved a large turnout to say farewell. The problem was not with this ceremony; it was with a failure to turn out an audience for another one a few weeks later. From that failure came disappointment and an obvious message that, within this company, there existed a clear “We/They” conflict: WE (the officers) are more important than THEY (the middle managers).
The failure occurred when a longtime group manager was promoted to a director-level position. This individual had started as an entry-level individual contributor and had, by consistent hard work and demonstration of good judgment, moved up through the company’s levels: supervisor, manager, group manager. His promotion now to director was no more and no less deserving of recognition than was the recent retirement of the senior VP. Oh, perhaps it wasn’t expected that the company auditorium be filled, but there was a reasonable expectation that the meeting room they reserved for his promotion party have enough attendees to gobble up the snacks and empty the drinks.
The middle management peers and their subordinates turned out to honor their friend. But not a single company officer was in the room. Not one. No directors. Zero vice-presidents. No senior VPs. They were all conspicuous by their absence. And of course there was conversation about the no-shows. The insult was too much of an in-your-face event for there not to be some talk.
How could it happen? Inadvertence? “I really meant to encourage as many folks as possible to attend, but I got busy and forgot to send any reminders.” Perhaps. But a busy company officer is supposed to have among his/her skills the ability to manage several tasks at the same time, and especially to remember the ones that touch on employee relations. Hadn’t all these AWOL company officers attended at least one HR seminar that touched on the importance of employee recognition?
If the officer who should have sent the reminders failed, were there NO subordinate officers wise enough or bold enough to step up and either do it themselves, or remind the boss to do it? Is there a culture of silence born of intimidation? Is there a failure in the company culture to recognize that consideration for employees is a critical practice for the leaders? Isn’t it ironic that a company could have a process to make sure flowers are sent when there’s a death in the family, but no “mental process discipline” among the leaders to make sure a veteran trusted employee is recognized by the company leadership for the most important promotion in the individual’s career?
We-They perceptions hang around organizations like the smell of skunks; they are very difficult to eradicate. And a surprising number of them are created through inadvertence, momentary inattention, failure to practice simple consideration. Nearly all are avoidable, if leaders will slow down from the hectic daily pace and remember that we-they avoidance is critical to the maintenance of the trust of followers.