“We find it’s always better to fire people on a Friday. Studies have statistically shown that there’s less chance of an incident if you do it at the end of the week.” – Bob Slydell, Office Space
As I sat outside the executive officer’s door waiting for our daily update, a fellow first lieutenant dropped into the chair next to me. Our promotion list was due to be published the following day, and he’d been summoned to the major’s office. As we made small talk, he grew quieter, before finally blurting out that he’d not been selected for promotion.
I didn’t know what to say. Even though the Army was in the midst of a drawdown, it never occurred to me that promotion to captain wasn’t automatic. My file was a hot mess – as a junior officer I embraced the concept of learning through your own mistakes – but I never lost any sleep worrying.
That day was a wakeup call.
As the Army continued to downsize through the decade of the 1990s, I witnessed some interesting, if disturbing, trends. High performers did what high performers generally do: they performed. Low performers did the same, doing the kinds of things you’d expect. At the margins, where the promotion cut lines existed, competition could easily be characterized as cutthroat.
Force restructuring – which reduced the total size of the Army by 37% – brought out the worst in some people. While many mediocre performers worked incredibly hard to improve their chances of career survival, others sought out less competitive roles that would give their evaluations the illusion of luster. Others still went out of their way to damage the reputations – and careers – of those they perceived as their competition.
déjà vu All Over Again
As the machinery set to work downsizing the federal workforce earlier this year, I couldn’t shake the feeling of déjà vu. With one difference: where earlier workforce restructuring – including the military drawdown of the 90s – focused on quality, this one lacked any pretense of retaining talent. Where high performance once served as its own form of job protection, it no longer provided the safety net it once did.
On his first day in office, the president signed an executive order, reclassifying federal employees as at-will positions that could be dismissed for nearly any reason. That same day, he signed into effect a hiring freeze across the federal government. A week later, nearly all 2.3 million federal employees received the “Fork in the Road” email, from the Office of Personnel Management offering eight months of pay and benefits if they resigned by February 6.
After terminating Hampton Dellinger – who as the head of the Office of Special Counsel was tasked with protecting federal employees from unlawful personnel actions, the president issued a new executive order on February 11 directing the federal agencies and departments to begin “large-scale reductions in force.” Two days later, thousands of probationary employees – many of whom were long-standing federal workers who had promoted into new positions – were fired across the government.
Legal challenges followed, mistakes were made, entire agencies were shuttered. People were afraid. Trust was lost. The workforce was in turmoil.
The end result?
I was recently chatting with a good friend who is fielding two job offers pending approval of exceptions to the existing federal hiring freeze. “How do you feel about it?” I asked. “I’m just not sure,” he answered. He went on to explain the uncertainty involved in both offers – another round of firings could put him back on the street. There were no guarantees. There was no safety net. Should he keep the job he has or reach for the brass ring?
There will be Signs of a toxic workplace
Eventually, the institution will reset. Hiring freezes will end, positions will become available, and recruiting will begin again in earnest. It might take a while – some estimates suggest a decade or more – but the federal government will eventually right itself.
In the meantime, opportunities will arise. Whether they are worth pursuing, however, is an individual decision. The stability once common to the federal workforce is no longer assured. And, depending on where you land, you might just find yourself on Cutthroat Island.
And… there will be signs.
1. A noticeable lack of open communication and diverse perspectives.
Whether it’s due to destructive leadership or external pressures, the normal channels of communication begin to shut down as people go to ground to protect themselves.
2. An increase in self-preservation behaviors among leaders and employees.
Driven largely by fear and insecurity, the culture transforms to finger pointing, blamestorming, and credit hording rather than collaboration.
3. A scarcity of growth opportunities.
When the workplace turns cutthroat, people often hold on for dear life; opportunities quickly dry up as the dead man’s shoes phenomenon kicks in.
4. Relationships turn from collaborative to transactional.
The lack of trust that permeates the workplace pushes relationships to narrow, quid pro quo interactions. “What can you do for me” becomes the coin of the realm.
5. Interviews assume a lack of transparency.
People are torn between coming clean about the workplace culture and worrying that someone new might push them out of a job. As a result, interviews become a façade. New hires won’t see behind the curtain until after the hiring process. When it’s too late.
When I finally sat down with the executive officer that morning, we chatted about my conversation outside his office. He pondered for a moment, then said, “Keep your head on a swivel, bud.” When the competition for jobs – or even career survival – turns cutthroat, you need to stay frosty. People who can’t elevate to your level might not think twice about dragging you down to theirs. To quote Stinger from Top Gun: “You need to be doing it better and cleaner than the other guy.”
