Workers still lucky enough to be included on Acme's ever-shrinking payroll have responded to the situation in their own ways. Some have chronic cases of survivor's guilt. Others have found religion and now toil diligently, noses closer to the grindstone, heads lower in the foxhole, cranking out work at a pace that for many of them is relatively feverish. Others have responded with a finely tuned sense of Acme fatalism, knowing that regardless of how well anyone performs, it's only a matter of time before they, too, will be marched to the chopping block, a process now most efficient owing, of course, to the skills HR has honed to a keen edge. A select few respond in other interesting ways.
Sitting at his desk, Lew Skannen, Acme's maintenance department foreman, just survived his fourth panic attack this week. He is appalled when he realizes it took five minutes of slow, deep breathing to hold it at bay this time. "I've got to do something, say something," he thinks, "or I'm going to lose it completely."
After taking another five minutes to get his thoughts together, Lew finally feels calm enough to walk down the hall to talk to his boss, Tom Ichbaum, plant engineer, about the problem that has been eating away at him for the past few days.
"Yes, Lew. What can I do for you?" Tom asks when Lew knocks on the frame of the open door.
"Something's been bothering me for a while," Lew replies, "and we really must do something about it before somebody gets hurt."
"What's that?" Tom asks, somewhat hesitantly.
"The new procedure production is using for entering confined spaces doesn't make sense," Lew states with certainty. "According to what I've found on the Internet, they're doing it wrong. Somebody is going to get hurt. Worker safety is the issue here. If someone gets hurt - or worse - we're going to be in big trouble. Acme will go bankrupt if we get sued," Lew pants as he starts hyperventilating again. "Then, everyone working here will go on public assistance. Some will lose their homes and ... "
Tom rolls his eyeballs back into his head as he sighs. "Lew, calm down," he says, somewhat patronizingly, "I think everything's going to be OK."
"No, it's not," Lew replies. "When I told the production manager to check the safety requirements, he just brushed me off. Something bad is going to happen. I just know it."
"Lew, the people who developed the procedure are pros," Tom says. "Nothing bad will happen."
"Yes, it will," Lew replies. "It doesn't matter if we get sued. There's no job security here. People get canned willy-nilly and nothing makes sense anymore. There are no other jobs in the area. I heard another round of layoffs will happen in early April, just before tax time."
"That's really a non-issue," Tom says. "Don't worry about things you can't change."
But Lew persists. "I want to believe in this company and its future," he says. "I'm a single parent and this job is the only thing keeping my life and my family together. I've got two teenagers, both pretty wild, and it has cost me a small fortune to get them out of that last scrape, a fortune I mostly had to gather by maxing out my credit cards. I've put everything I had in the Acme stock plan for the last 15 years, and it's all at risk if Acme goes south. I've got a vested interest in seeing that nothing bad happens to the company."
Tom thinks Lew has a rather undiversified portfolio. "Lew, nobody is going to get hurt. If you have money problems, talk to a financial planner. HR can connect you with someone who can help. Now, please, I've got work to do. Why don't you just go back to work, too."
As he is being hustled out of the office, Lew knows Tom isn't taking safety seriously enough. "Surely," he thinks, "Clay Figgereen, the plant manager, will share my concerns." As that exact moment, Lew knows just what he has to do.
Two days later, just before the weekly staff meeting is called to order, Clay, carrying a piece of paper, corners Tom and asks, "What do you make of this?"
Tom reads the memo, focusing on the part that accuses both Tom and the production manager of ignoring valid safety issues. "I can't believe Lew sent this to you," he replies. "Lew can find a disaster in an everyday event. Just as some people are really into science fiction, Lew is into his own personal brand of fiction. Not only do natural events spook him, he thinks the sky is falling in on the business world. The guy is a flake, a pessimistic flake."
"A flake or not, the charges he leveled, in writing, are pretty serious," snaps Clay in a most irritated manner. "I don't have to tell you that. But, I will say that you better get your department in shape damned soon, Tom, or I'm going to do it for you. Do you understand?"
"Yes, I understand," Tom mumbles to the receding back of Clay's shirt.
By the time he returns to his office after the interminable and boring weekly meeting, Tom is exploding with nuclear rage. He grabs his phone and calls Lew in for a little conversation. Then he checks his voice mail and hears a message from someone at the OSHA office in the state capital who is inquiring about safety procedures at the Acme plant.
Could this situation have been avoided? Does Lew have a shot at any good outcome? How should he handle himself? How should Tom handle himself?
A corporate consultant says:
Let's begin by being clear that, at the moment, there is no "situation." At the moment, Acme is still in the prodromal state - still able to avoid a situation. However, if they fail to respond responsibly, and Lew is proved correct about the safety issues, Acme's employees will most certainly find themselves in a damage-control mode.