top of page
Search

Where does leadership lead to?

Writer's picture: Friedrich NietzscheFriedrich Nietzsche

My name is Friedrich Nietzsche. I work as a Buyer for Voxbitphon, a large telecom company, headquartered downtown, in the Excelsior building. The Terminals team which I'm part of occupies half of the 12th floor. The other half, well... that's the Director’s office, Vasily Bespolezny.


I recall seeing his office for the first time, when I was given the office tour on my first day.


- It’s not that big, I said.

- Oh, that’s just his assistant’s section, Michelle assured me.


Michelle was my induction buddy and went on to become my "work spouse" we ate and took breaks together.


- Can you see the other end of the office now? Michelle asked, opening the other door.


I squinted my eyes, counting the chairs around the oval table in the back.


- Why does he need a 12 person table in his office?


Michelle smiled and shrugged.


Michelle, Katy and Joan were my three Senior Buyer colleagues. I was the only one without a Senior in my job title. Then there was John, Mike and Ross, the QA team. They reported into Larry, the Team Leader. Our Manager was Julia.


Due to the new office layout, with Vasily getting one half of the floor, Julia had to give up her office and join the rest of the team in the open space. She kept her old office door nameplate and stuck it to the front of her desk. My guess was that Vasily made her stay closer to the team and that’s why he took her office. But she definitely missed it.


I stood up and got closer to her desk, looking at that nameplate: JULIA RICHARDS, SENIOR MANAGER — TERMINALS.


- I don’t have any time. Physically, I don’t have any time, Friedrich! she slams the lid on her laptop, cutting me short before I could say anything.


Behind my back, John whispered to the others:

- Watch out guys, it’s Alberta Einstein on the loose...


As always, he was a little too loud when whispering. Julia leaned over to my left side to check where the voice was coming from.


- Oh, so it’s fine when you do it? I distracted her.


Everybody’s a philosopher these days, but they all look down on philosophy. I just wanted to warn her about the abysmal QA results and the under-performance of the RTX2100. Despite what marketing said, this product was not ready for release.


Julia crossed her hands and looked me straight:

- When I do what?


She waited a whole half second for me to reply, after which she scoffed, got up and grabbed her things. Then she headed for the door and opened it. Julia did this thing when she was leaving — keeping the door open and standing in the threshold, asking questions and giving directions for what seemed to take an eternity. She did it this time as well.


- Anything you want me to ask the vendor?

- Well, actually, yes, the RT…

- You guys behave while I’m out, you hear?


Everybody was suddenly sunk in deep work.

- Ugh, the meeting starts in 20 minutes and I have the entire city to cross in this end-of-the-world traffic…


She then turned to me, door knob in hand.

- Look me up in my calendar when I’m free and chase me for whatever it is you wanted to talk to me about, OK?


Without waiting for a confirmation, she slammed the door in my face and was off. John got up from his chair and pulled a dance move with his pelvis, happy to have gotten rid of Julia for the day:

- Woop, woop…


Then he proceeded to kick back, firing up another browser tab, extensively looking for helicopter drone parts for his hobby.


We could finally do some uninterrupted work now.


- How everyone is doing today?


Looks like I spoke too soon.

- Are you guys motivated?


It was Vasily, the director. I could recognize his thick Odessa accent any work day.

- Well, are you?


He was close to Michelle’s desk. She gently grabbed his hand with both of her palms. Vasily was startled by the move, but was greeted with that charming innocent smile Michelle so effectively pulled off every time. He accepted the hold.


- Yes. Yes we are, Michelle told him in a reassuring voice.


He was in a good mood now. Way to go, Michelle. Vasily retracted his hand and walked around the floor — hands in his pant pockets — doing what I suspected was his interpretation of an authoritative and intelligent Director walk, .


- I have ever tell you about how I get here?


Only a hundred million times, Vasily. Do you have any other stories?


John whispered to nobody in particular:

- You swam across the Black Sea?


Vasily frowned:

- What was that?

- I said “You would like some black tea?”, said John, mocking his (lack of) English skill.

- Oh… no, thank you.


He then went on to tell us one more painful time the blandest story of Voxbitphon’s least successful hiring process. It could have literally been anyone in his role.


- The word leadership come from the ancient English, how do you say... idiom, yes — lead their ship, Vasily started his Monday motivational speech.

- Notice… it is not lead our ship, because that would give us the work leadurship, he continued, pronouncing the two words kind of the same.


I couldn't believe I had to put up with this.


- But the ship of who it is? Do you know? he continued.


Only Michelle looked at him, everyone else was either trying to work or pretending to be busy.


Vasily continued:

- It is the shareholder ship. And we lead it.

- Where do we lead the ship, sir? I asked.


Michelle smiled some more.


- Why, we lead the ship to maximizing the profits. Maximizing shareholder profits. We have a responsibility towards the people who pay our salary, he said proudly.


Maximizing shareholder profit is a phrase that always makes me cringe.

- What do they do with all that money, sir? I asked.


Vasily frowned.

- Do we know, do they tell us? I insist. Is there, like, a report?

- Well, I… I guess they invest it back. Yes they need money to make investments. Like buying other companies.

- To make even more money? I continue to pry.


He made a genuine effort for around two and a half seconds to find an answer. Then he had enough. Maybe it was too much for his brain cells.


- I don’t *expletive* know… They buy yachts!

- How many yachts do you actually need? I asked again.


Vasily was pointing at me. From past experiences, I could tell he was now feeling cornered and I should stop. John’s facial expression was telling me the same.


- Look, I don’t know. I don’t have a yacht, OK?


He stormed back to his Director office probably cursing in Russian.


- Why don’t you ask Keynes? John mocked me. He has a yacht.


J.M. Keynes was our CFO. As ridiculous as John’s idea sounded, he was onto something. I felt I had a legitimate question and Keynes was the guy to ask. Took me a while to make the decision, but then I started writing a note to the CFO.


“Mr. Keynes,


Where are we actually going?


Work can’t be just strings of you giving us percentages and we meeting quarterly and yearly targets then repeating the same process every year, but with even more impossible numbers, can it? This is all mad. Businesses need money to run just like a car needs fuel, but where does this car go?


Also, what do you do with all that money?”


I deleted the last phrase and clicked Send. Was I too naive to actually expect a reply? I got up from my chair and signaled Michelle to go outside. I might have gotten fired that day, so I needed the fresh air.




I didn’t get an answer to my e-mail. At least not explicitly. I just got a quick word from Julia, saying I should direct all questions firstly and solely to herself and how she was there to support me in my professional journey or something.




At the end of the week, Voxbitphon threw the yearly party. The one where we celebrated results. That year they made it a 2-in-1 the CFO was retiring. We had the party hosted at his place. Big nice house on the hills. John refused to come, saying he could have comfortably gotten drunk at home just as well. I was curious about the house so I came around with Michelle. Once the party started, I wanted to invite her to dance. She whispered to my ear:


- They’re all lining up for me and I don’t want to upset anyone. Be a darling and take one for the team.


I hugged her and poured myself a drink. I looked around. Who were these people? I headed to the balcony. It oversaw the pool giving me a great view of the party and of the city. I took a sip and reflected about my Monday e-mail. Seeing Keynes’ house partly answered the question. It must have been more than that though.


- Nietzsche, is it?


I turned around. It was our CFO host. I switch the drink to my left side and meet his handshake.

- Lovely party you have going on here, Mr. Keynes.

- Are you enjoying yourself?

- Very much, sir. Food, drinks, everything is excellent.


He hesitated for a second, then got closer:

- You wanted to know where it all leads to?

- I…

- It either leads to the madhouse or to retirement, that’s where it all leads to.


Our soon to be retired CFO then put his elbows on the edge of the balcony and took a sip.

- I wish you the latter.


I somehow felt he was relieved saying those words.

- You want to invest in something future-proof? Buy yourself a nice coffin or a shiny urn. In the long run, we’re all dead.


He raised his glass, I rose mine and we spent a few silent moments leaned over the balcony, watching the moon rise and the night falling over the city.

6 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

Comments


bottom of page