I used to work for the government. Some people think that is an oxymoron, but there were quite a few of us who did work very hard on your behalf. We’re Group A.
Others spend their days yelling at their kids on the phone, complaining about their jobs, or making money on the side, ripping off office supplies. Group B. Group C types spend their time, drawing up strategies, policies and regulations aimed at keeping the Bs in line, but generally making life more difficult for the As.
For example, I once sat though a 45-minute power point presentation, the gist of which, was that I should not call a member of the public, or a colleague a moron. It was required viewing for all staff – across all government. And, someone, or more likely a team of people, had spent months designing the program and getting it approved by boffins who make a lot of money.
Perfume is another example. The policies on this scent-sitive issue were over the top in design and underwhelming in effect.
My first small office was a designated “Scent-Free Zone” – allowed only in cases of doctor-documented environmental sensitivities. The employee was never identified, but one day we were all called to a meeting where the topic was “scent in the workplace” and one person was conspicuously absent.
An HR specialist gave a fascinating presentation. Did you know there is a compound used to degrease jet engines that is also used in baby wipes? An equally frightening compound with industrial applications is added to perfume to both increase the distance at which it can be detected and the length of hang time.
After outlining the noxious elements in perfume, the specialist went into detail about the effects: migraines that last for days, rashes, respiratory problems and, in some cases, anaphylactic shock. With this in mind, we were asked to be conscious of scented products and to refrain from wearing perfume.
I thought the presentation was straight forward, and the request not unreasonable. But I was new to government and had misjudged the capacity for petty and vicious vitriol among Group B.
“Are you telling me I can’t bathe
or brush my teeth?”
“What about laundry – are you
telling me I can’t use detergent or fabric softener?”
“How do we know she’s not
faking it? I want to see the note from her doctor!”
The griping abated only when a change in office allocation sent most of us to a cubicle farm in another building. The employee with the severe allergies stayed behind.
Without a medically documented condition – or doors, walls, or windows that opened – the new work space became a stinking fugue of chemicals. There was no common sense on scent. All sorts of people – including the boss – complained of headaches and itching eyes, while the woman next to me hourly sprayed her cubicle with Febreeze. When I mentioned that it was making me sick, she said, “But it’s lavender mist!” as if the type of fake fragrance would make me any less ill.
When I switched jobs, it happened again. This time, just one employee was the culprit, practicing aromatherapy in her cubicle. Sprays, scent sticks and lotions were applied, waved and lathered with abandon. Again, people were falling ill from the redolence.
The boss sent out memo after memo, directing all staff to “use caution with smelly things.” She insisted she couldn’t approach the woman individually because – no matter how odious the odour – it could be taken as an infringement of her rights under the collective agreement.
Yet, the same boss had discretely taken another employee aside on a separate, sticky (and stinky) subject: his gagorrific body odor. The problem of bad hygiene habits is so prevalent among government workers that there’s a script for managers to use when quietly giving “the talk.” This script was developed over a period of months by a Group C team, and approved by highly paid bureaucrats, to avoid offence, controversy or complaints to the union.
We’re talking about the government. There are scripts, strategies, policies and regulations about every imaginable subject. There are rules about when you can call someone a moron – never. And, there are rules about when you can and cannot tell someone they stink. BO – yes. Emptying an entire can of Febreze – no. Even if it is lavender mist.
Photo Credit: Care2
Comments
Post a Comment