As soon as I walked into the office, I got a weird feeling. The lobby was drab, with beige colored walls and tan couches, with no art work on the wall, and only a slightly pitiful looking fake plant in the corner. I followed the secretary back to the boss’s office, and I noticed that the employee cubicles were devoid of the typical decorations and individual touches that usually pepper modern offices. It didn’t sound like a normal office either; I didn’t hear any boisterous employee banter or even a spirited phone voice. The employees seemed subdued, speaking in hushed tones or busily staring at a computer screen. No one was up walking around. I made eye contact with one woman, and she looked warily at me with exhausted eyes. Just as I was starting to wonder what the hell was wrong with this place, I got my answer.
The secretary led me into the manager’s office, where I met the source of everyone’s discontent. A short, muscled man with a crew cut and a sour look on his face was standing behind his desk, waiting for me. I immediately guessed that he was an ex-Marine. Within 30 seconds, he confirmed my premonition and informed me that he did two tours in Vietnam. After 90 seconds, he twice informed me that he was the regional vice president, and that he had been brought in here from the Pittsburgh office “to right the ship” and that he had done just that. This man was clearly a stern disciplinarian, a micromanaging taskmaster who took a ‘my way or the highway’ approach. He had succeeded in hiring an office full of people who would roll over when he bullied them around. Finally, after his ego stopped talking, he started the interview.
At this point, I could sit here and write out the transcript of the first ten minutes of our conversation, but I won’t because it mostly consisted of him asking a question about law school, and then before I could answer, he would go and make a negative comment about lawyers. Now, I have no problems whatsoever with talking bad about lawyers. I do it all the time. But my comments are well-informed critiques coming from personal experience, not ignorant opinions lifted from a book of lawyer jokes. Nor would I have had a problem had the man been kidding around. However, I failed to find the slightest hint of humor or irony in his voice when he told me that “lawyers would have everyone burning flags and let terrorists run free”, apparently confusing lawyers with liberals. (I told you he was ignorant.)
Finally the conversation turned to the actual job, and with every answer I could see that he despised me. Granted, he didn’t know anything about me, but he must have seen my kind before. So when he asked the next question, he gave me the perfect opportunity to transform from “Interview Mike” to “Normal Mike”.
“Let’s say that you have to manage an office full of 25 people. What do you think the best way to do that is?”
“Well, there isn’t one best way to do that. I think the most effective managers are the ones who can get to each employee individually, and learn how to best motivate the individual. What might make X work at a high level might make Y pull away and alienate them. Some people like to be told exactly what to do and how to do it. Others like to be made to feel like they have an input in the decision making process. Others can be left alone with just the occasional pat on the back. The real talent in managing is to identify what works best for each person and to do that.”
Then I added the kicker. “Any idiot can stand in front of his subordinates and tell them what to do. Good managers are adaptable. Bad managers are not.”
He stared through me with a look that was previously seen only by the North Vietnamese soldiers he killed 30 years ago. Finally, he found the words to express what he felt. “Where did you learn that?” he asked, with utter contempt. “Law school?”
“No, it’s just common sense.”
And the job search continues.
