After our boss quit the senior executives replaced him with a coffee machine. They said that the consultant had delivered his report and that the replacement was appropriate and cost effective.
Each morning we gathered around the shiny appliance and said good morning. We even gave it a name which someone printed out from the label maker and pressed tenderly against the metal: “Sean.”
We poured in the beans lovingly and caressed the button and smiled as Sean internally alchemized them into the fragrant liquor that poured lusciously from the vents. Motivation improved. Team morale was at an all-time high.
Sean brought the team together in ways that we hadn’t experienced before. In those soft moments just before he ground the beans sometimes someone would be compelled to share something from deep within their private self.
“I don’t think I love my second child.” Said Linda, who usually only spoke about payroll.
“I think my erectile dysfunction is somehow linked to being jealous of my wife.” Said Brad, from IT, who usually never responded to people’s emails.
At the end of financial year staff evaluation survey we all gave Sean the highest appraisal. He was an irreplaceable part of the office – able to inspire us to the highest level of performance, help us realize our potential and foster consistent outputs.
We kept gathering around him every morning, collaborating and ideating freely.
Someone even worked out how to put little electronic inspirational messages on his display:
“Be the change you want to see in the office.”
“Your attitude is determined by your altitude.”
But after a while one of the executives grew suspicious of Sean and felt he was going outside his scope. The executive decided to put him back in his place and one sad morning we arrived to find Sean had been redeployed to the building manager’s office.
We were bereft and aimless for a time, until the boss told us a new addition would be arriving soon to bring the team culture back to an optimum level. He said he had recently read a book about how to foster collegiality for productivity and was keen to implement his learnings.
Then she arrived – shiny and new looking like a picture of perfection. She was a sparkling new toasted sandwich maker. Her name was Sharon.
As we pressed her lever down gently, the ripples of satisfaction were palpable through the team. Morale was having an uptick. Sitting around eating the toasted sandwiches, we all basked in the sensation of a hug from a mother that we never had.
We were sluggish with carbs, too contented to complain about anything, so after nodding to each other cordially we went methodically back to our tasks.
Fiona Murray is a writer and social worker living in the Blue Mountains, west of Sydney.
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