February 5,
2007
Management
and the Great Cubicle Posting Debate
“The
seventh and final item on the management meeting agenda shouldn’t take
long at all,” announced Quimberly, who presides over each management
meeting and never saw a discussion item he was willing to wrap up
quickly when he could extend it to last the entire afternoon.
You have to
cut Quimberly some slack. Running these meetings is his one big moment
in the sun every week. The rest of the time, he pushes numbers and
crunches paper, or something like that. But in The Chair, well . . .
Quimberly is quite the man. So no topic is too mundane for
executive-level attention in this company. You want proof? Behold:
“Management
needs to clarify its policy with respect to cubicle material postings,”
announces Chairman Quimberly.
Squeeseland
is confused.
“Why do we
need to post information about the material our cubicles are made out
of?” Squeeseland wonders.
But that’s
just Squeeseland. Drimpy is appalled.
“That’s
disgusting!” Drimpy declares. “Who wants to read about cuticle
materials? With the things people put their fingers in? This is an OSHA
violation waiting to happen!”
“Cubicle
materials!” Squeeseland misexplains. “Not cuticle materials, you
idiot!”
This is
getting out of hand. The Chair needs to step in.
“Now
Squeeseland,” Quimberly says, “It’s not right for you to call Drimpy an
idiot. You’re both idiots. I’m talking about things people post on their
cubicles. Notes. Cartoons. Flyers. Memos. Political propaganda. We need
a policy for this!”
“Oh, right,
of course,” says Buford. “We need a policy for this. Why do we need a
policy for this?”
“Because,”
Quimberly says. “There’s no policy! What if people want to post cartoons
making fun of the CEO? What if they want to print out and post blog
entries critical of the company? Or porn?”
Drimpy
ponders that one.
“Are you
talking about blog entries critical of porn? Or porn critical of the
company? Because that would be interesting.”
Squeeseland
slaps Drimpy upside the head. Buford uses his laptop to post to his blog.
Something about porn. Quimberly is losing control quickly.
“Let’s say,
for example, that it’s an election year,” Quimberly says. “Is it OK for
employees to post campaign materials on their cubicles?”
Drimpy has
a suggestion: “Why don’t we have one policy for the outside part of the
cubicle and one for the inside part?”
Quimberly
likes it: “A multifaceted, nuanced cubicle material policy – laden with
conditions, clauses and qualifications. I like it! Squeeseland, what
should we allow on the outside part?”
“Not
Dilbert,” Squeeseland says. “Dilbert is stupid.”
“I like
Dilbert!” Buford says.
“You are
Dilbert!” Squeeseland insists.
Uh oh. The
group is getting distracted again. Quimberly needs to take back control
yet again.
“Everyone
have a bagel and listen to me,” Quimberly says. “It seems to me that
family pictures are fine for the inside. So are inspirational poems and
people’s schedules. Political propaganda?”
“That is
going to be a problem,” says Leo the Lawyer.
“Allowing
it or banning it?” Quimberly queries.
“Either,”
says Leo. “If you ban it, you’ve got the ACLU in here complaining about
free speech. If you allow it, you’ll have fights among the employees.
Plus, the union will flood the office with signs for the candidates it
likes.”
“Do we like
the union’s candidates?” Drimpy asks.
“No,” says
Leo.
“All
right,” says Quimberly. “We can’t risk fights among the employees. No
political signs. We’ll take our chances with the ACLU.”
Just then,
in walks the CEO.
“I have an
announcement, team! I’m running for governor! I want my campaign signs
on the inside and the outside of every cubicle. And my bumper stickers
on all your cars too! Vote for me!” And with that, the boss exits
triumphantly.
Everyone
looks around. Quimberly is in a quandary. “”What happens,” he wonders,
“if some of the employees support the other guy? Can they put up signs
for him?”
Everyone
looks at Leo. Leo looks at his hands. “Sure. Let them put up whatever
sign they want. The boss knows where all those at-will employment
agreements are kept, you know. Buford, didn’t I see you at a campaign
rally for the other guy?
Buford
gulps. Looks like it’s poetry and Dilbert for Buford’s cubicle.
Shouldn’t there be a policy about this?
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