Wednesday, January 16, 2013

Corollary to Parkinson's Law

Takin' it easy.The one way to make sure that work doesn't expand to fill the time available for its completion is to make the work so unpleasant that nobody wants to do it anymore.

Or perhaps another way to say it would be "Give people more interesting stuff to do in their regular jobs so they don't work on proposals right up to the deadline."

We had two proposals and two quarterly reports to submit yesterday. Neither process was too painful, though the documents came to me later than I would've liked. If I get things early enough, I can do a thorough edit and run a detailed formatting scrub to make sure the document communicates our advantages in an accurate, readable, and appealing way. When I get them late, all I can do is try to make sure we comply with required page and font size limits, and that the correct markings are where they need to be. I usually can also check for graphics positioning, page numbering, and that sort of thing...but probably can't verify the grammar or the message.

But as Parkinson noted, if you give them time, they'll keep changing stuff. I probably would, too, except that I eventually just get sick of reading the same document over and over. That's the solution, I think -- burn them out on the process, and then perhaps they'll let go of their documents earlier.

It's a good theory.

Anyway, I just wanted to mention Parkinson's less popular axiom; the law of triviality. It states that the time spent on any item of the agenda will be in inverse proportion to the sum involved, which means that big stuff (like, oh I don't know, balancing the budget?) gets ignored while debate goes on and on over nitpicking away at various other rights and freedoms. Hmm. That ol' Parkinson dude was a keen observer, wasn't he?

Me? I'm just a swimmer who happens to occasionally resort to proposal preparation in order to pay the car repair bills and whatnot. I can guarantee you that I did not forcefully inform my high school guidance counselor that I wanted to prepare proposals when I grew up. I never once looked for a class in proposal prep within the college course catalog, and was never influenced by an inspiring TV show about a proposal management guru. Starship captain, helicopter pilot, caped crimefighter...sure. I may have even thought about being "in business" like Ward Cleaver, or even being a drug-selling thug like Arthur Fonzarelli. But I never once thought of proposals as a career path.

The boss from hell.Come to think of it, though, Mike Brady's obvious success and lovely home/family never once tempted me to become an architect. And I certainly didn't want to be an advertising executive like Durwood Stevens. (Have you ever noticed how much alcohol they drink on "Bewitched"? The ad game appears to be a very stressful profession, even if your in-laws aren't psychotic and paranormal.)

My question for you is this: How many of you knew exactly what you wanted to do for a career when you were in high school?

I was always jealous of my college roommate Mickey -- because he knew from the start that he wanted to be an oil man, just like J. D. Clampett. He succeeded, too; he owns a very successful business and loves his work. Of course, he's not as literate, well-dressed, or well-spoken as Jed, and he lives in the godforsaken wasteland known as Oklahoma instead of Beverly Hills, but still...a job well done.

Several of my other college pals had similar focus: Allan wanted to get paid to spew BS, and has crafted an admirable career in advertising. Tom wanted to have access to all sorts of drugs, and became a respected physician. Roger Neugent wanted to continue to baffle the public and defy categorization, and has done so continuously since setting fire to the dormitory lobby carpet our freshman year. Unlike these fellows, though, I seem to have followed a bit of a Ouija Board career path. Oh well, I can't say it's been boring.

Perhaps there are amusing tales within my work history that are worthy of documenting. In the meantime, feel free to let me know when you gave up your childhood dreams of being an astronaut/ballplayer/double-naught spy and selected your current profession. Thanks, and have a great day!

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]

<< Home