Boeing Sucks
Tuesday, November 09, 2004
Employees are our Greatest Asset!
When Boeing took over the company I worked for, one of the noticeable changes of the takeover, besides the layoffs of thousands of people, was the reinstatement of helicopter service between our facilities and other places. On top of the building I worked in, which was little more than a parking garage with some offices on top as an afterthought, was the helicopter landing-pad upon which this new bit of executive privilege landed three times a day.
Why was it necessary? I am not sure. Perhaps the time and cost, if not exactly the management skills, of company executives were so valuable that the idea of them having carpool to Seal Beach simply was not to be considered. Or perhaps it is just as likely that as children they would spend their whole afternoon with the arms out, spinning around, and making sounds like a helicopter in order to express their fantasy of being a Big Chopper pilot one day and now, in a life where they a reduced to tools who can only relate to people through a cost-benefit analysis, the only sense of real happiness they feel is that momentary childhood connection as they ride in that Big ol’Chopper they once dreamt of. Honestly, there may be even a dozen more reasons of which we could never be quite certain which one is the most important, but this is something we all have learned to accept about Boeing management. Much like the Greek Gods of Olympus, they are a bunch of assholes, but the justification for their ways is often a mystery to all but them.
Regardless, the cost of this little executive perk to us in this building and employees in others was quite apparent. For each day the helicopter came and went, we consistently experienced again and again the joys, thrills, and exalted pleasures of helicopter fuel fumes wafting down into our workplaces. Through cubicles and washrooms the odiferous offence would run. Into laboratories and offices alike invaded this noxious beast. Simply put, there was no place to hide from the toxic tendrils reaching into the workplace.
One might think that with complaints of nausea, dizziness, and even the exposure of pregnant women to this environment that perhaps management might act quickly to rectify the situation. If you honestly believe that would happen, you just do not understand Boeing. Instead, we were offered meetings and building inspections, followed by more meetings and building inspections. We had the utmost assurance the company would continue the search for a solution to the problem, but never the slightest guarantee they might try one.
Finally, however, much to our surprise the helicopters ceased to come. It had been a year and half since our initial complaints. Could it be that management had finally seen the light after all those years of darkness within their personal “caves”? The answer, of course, came in an impersonal email. At Boeing, it always does.
“Avast ye merry and toiling serfs,” the document thundered forth, “be cheerful, for we who are the blessed to lead have decreed forth that from this day the dragon of misery, who has plagued you so, shall no longer descend amongst thee. No more boils, retching, and itching of the lungs will afflict thyself with agony anymore. Be gracious and give three cheers in fealty to the good King CEO, who by his wise and ever-present judgment has seen it fit to comfort us.”
“Was this true?” we wondered in amazement, “Had compassion and kindness for the human soul finally somehow managed to compute itself into an Excel spreadsheet in the hands of management above?”
Perhaps this was the day that their grinch-like little hearts grew three times too big, but before this you might assume let me provide you with the final statement of the good King’s message, which was:
“Also, you will be glad to know that by moving our helicopter facilities we will save ourselves a million dollars a year.”
Truly, we were blessed twice. For by their noble actions in concern for our better health, and by only certainly the fortuity of luck, they would benefit in the pocketbook too! With such knowledge, was it any surprise that our hearts soared upward to the highest heavens? Finally, we had at last the proof we desired to know. That at Boeing the employee comes first before the bottom line . . .
(Even if it is only in the placement of text within the email.)
Why was it necessary? I am not sure. Perhaps the time and cost, if not exactly the management skills, of company executives were so valuable that the idea of them having carpool to Seal Beach simply was not to be considered. Or perhaps it is just as likely that as children they would spend their whole afternoon with the arms out, spinning around, and making sounds like a helicopter in order to express their fantasy of being a Big Chopper pilot one day and now, in a life where they a reduced to tools who can only relate to people through a cost-benefit analysis, the only sense of real happiness they feel is that momentary childhood connection as they ride in that Big ol’Chopper they once dreamt of. Honestly, there may be even a dozen more reasons of which we could never be quite certain which one is the most important, but this is something we all have learned to accept about Boeing management. Much like the Greek Gods of Olympus, they are a bunch of assholes, but the justification for their ways is often a mystery to all but them.
Regardless, the cost of this little executive perk to us in this building and employees in others was quite apparent. For each day the helicopter came and went, we consistently experienced again and again the joys, thrills, and exalted pleasures of helicopter fuel fumes wafting down into our workplaces. Through cubicles and washrooms the odiferous offence would run. Into laboratories and offices alike invaded this noxious beast. Simply put, there was no place to hide from the toxic tendrils reaching into the workplace.
One might think that with complaints of nausea, dizziness, and even the exposure of pregnant women to this environment that perhaps management might act quickly to rectify the situation. If you honestly believe that would happen, you just do not understand Boeing. Instead, we were offered meetings and building inspections, followed by more meetings and building inspections. We had the utmost assurance the company would continue the search for a solution to the problem, but never the slightest guarantee they might try one.
Finally, however, much to our surprise the helicopters ceased to come. It had been a year and half since our initial complaints. Could it be that management had finally seen the light after all those years of darkness within their personal “caves”? The answer, of course, came in an impersonal email. At Boeing, it always does.
“Avast ye merry and toiling serfs,” the document thundered forth, “be cheerful, for we who are the blessed to lead have decreed forth that from this day the dragon of misery, who has plagued you so, shall no longer descend amongst thee. No more boils, retching, and itching of the lungs will afflict thyself with agony anymore. Be gracious and give three cheers in fealty to the good King CEO, who by his wise and ever-present judgment has seen it fit to comfort us.”
“Was this true?” we wondered in amazement, “Had compassion and kindness for the human soul finally somehow managed to compute itself into an Excel spreadsheet in the hands of management above?”
Perhaps this was the day that their grinch-like little hearts grew three times too big, but before this you might assume let me provide you with the final statement of the good King’s message, which was:
“Also, you will be glad to know that by moving our helicopter facilities we will save ourselves a million dollars a year.”
Truly, we were blessed twice. For by their noble actions in concern for our better health, and by only certainly the fortuity of luck, they would benefit in the pocketbook too! With such knowledge, was it any surprise that our hearts soared upward to the highest heavens? Finally, we had at last the proof we desired to know. That at Boeing the employee comes first before the bottom line . . .
(Even if it is only in the placement of text within the email.)
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