The Dream Works Only if the Team Works

In the past couple of years, several of my colleagues have simply vanished from the workplace.

No announcements made. No fond farewell. Just gone — some of them temporarily, some of them permanently.

I have to resort to alternative means of finding out what’s going on. Are they still in our email directory? Are they still on LinkedIn? Because asking direct questions of management or coworkers is discouraged, arouses suspicion, and often results in getting no meaningful information.

Two people’s workspaces were left as-is for months, as if they were going to return. They never did. (Finally someone was assigned to box up their personal effects and ship them home.)

Here’s the thing: we are directed by the company to think of ourselves as part of a team. Managers are even called “team leads” rather than “managers.”

But this is no way to run a team. Because teamwork requires a reasonable, bi-directional flow of information.

Imagine being a member of a sports team. One day, you show up for practice and ask “Where’s John?”

Everybody shrugs.

You ask your coach. “I can’t tell you,” he says.

Game day rolls around. “Where’s John?” Nobody knows, or nobody is talking. And this continues for most of the season.

It’s creepy and it’s unnecessary.

And it undermines trust.

Trust, of course, is essential to teamwork. To continue the sports metaphor, if you pass the ball to a teammate, you trust that they will make the effort to receive it with the overall goal of winning the game. You trust that your teammates are watching out for you to avoid injuries and pull off the win. You trust your coach to not be giving you bad advice or dangerous substances (although trust in coaches has been diminished by some very serious abuses on recent years).

In the book Tribe: On Homecoming and Belonging, the writer Sebastian Junger explains that the essence of trust and connection is the belief that the individual is willing to sacrifice for the benefit of the group and the group is willing to sacrifice for the individual. It is a reciprocal understanding.

Here, that ain’t happening.

Which leaves me to wonder what is behind all this secrecy. Laws and regulations? Company policy? Distrust of employees? Wanting to keep employees unsettled and always guessing?

Because of it were just a matter of simple human decency, there would be more information, not less.

Books That Will Go Unwritten

I think I could write a book.

It probably wouldn’t get accepted by a publisher, and even if it did probably no one would read it.

But that doesn’t change the fact that I am fairly certain that I could write a book. As in, I have the knowledge and the skills and the discipline to complete the project.

But I have not actually written a book and it seems unlikely that I ever will. There are several reasons for that.

One is my career and my ability to make a living. Early on, my career was satisfying enough that it was all I really needed. I didn’t engage much in hobbies or side projects. But after I was laid off in 2009, my professional work lost its appeal and it was then that I began to think about putting my energy elsewhere (like into this blog for instance).

A related issue is my inability to find a way to write the kind of book I want to write while not going broke or starving to death. To do justice to the ideas that I have would require significant investments of time and money. I just don’t see how I could keep my job and write a decent book. Nor do I see myself financing the effort from my savings and expecting to have the cost reimbursed from the publishers and from book sales.

Many published writers in the past few decades have not had to make that kind of choice. A discussion of women photojournalists–while talking about photographers and not writers–nonetheless sheds some light on the business of publishing: “The business has been taken over by a younger generation, many of which have alternate sources of funding, such as trust funds…. [E]ditors have sought out these self-funding talents. They had little choice. The new photographers didn’t mind, they needed the validation the publications offered and in the case of trust-funders, they didn’t need the money.”

For me it would mean quitting my current job and taking a leap of faith on a project with a very small chance of success. I’m not that much of a risk-taker.

Another is that I’m only recently figuring out, late in life, what kinds of topics I  am so interested in that I’d be willing to devote the time and energy into making it a full length book. For many years I was very focused on only a few ideas that frankly had done already by other writers, and I wasn’t  expanding into anything new. I could probably do it now but few writers find success late in life and the odds are against me.

There are actually three people who I know or have known through the normal course of life who have written and published books. One is Charles Bock, with whom I went to college. Another is Ellen Prentiss Campbell, a former neighbor and someone with whom I spent a few years in a writers’ group, reading some of her early work. The third is Andrea Jarrell, another neighbor and friend. They’ve been able to get their writing out there. I’d love to find time to pick their brains about it.

Back when Great Literature and Great Journalism were being written, the market for such things was almost assured. People had few options for leisure activity but to watch TV, see a movie, listen to radio, or read a book or magazine. The publishing houses thrived on high quality material and were always needing more of it. Bookstores were commonplace.

Today the tables have turned. Lots of people write or claim to want to write, while we have fewer and fewer places where this writing will be seen. As noted above, old models of success no longer apply. And if you have a decent bookstore within 10 square miles of you consider yourself lucky.

Which has me wondering: how many books are out there living as an idea inside someone’s head that will never see the light of day because the basic pathways of writing for publication have collapsed?

Sad to think, but it could be hundreds of thousands.