The Price of Arrogance: Bully Bosses Pay It Eventually

My first job out of college was at a top publishing house in New York, earning about as much as people pay for health insurance in a year. I worked for a woman rather high up in the food chain, but I never so much as saw the shadow of her boss's boss, the president of the division. His office was down the hall from my cubicle, in "Executive Alley." On occasion I heard him calling after someone when a meeting of the top executives adjourned and people were filing out of the conference room. I read a magazine article about him once that included a picture--I'd never seen his face before, just the back of his head.

Back then the New York law banning smoking in public places was not yet in effect, but there were restrictions on office buildings. If you smoked, you better have an office or know someone who didn't mind you lighting up in theirs. The rule was, no smoking in common areas. But the president didn't care about the rules, he lit up whenever he felt like it. I knew he was in the office when I smelled the smoke, it wafted over the assistants' heads, where he blew it, walking past our cubicles.

I wasn't aware yet that I resented the man for a number of reasons. I had plenty of other more pressing issues to deal with, like pleasing my boss, whose approval I needed to get to the next level in the company--that of an associate manuscript editor. My goal was to get one word taken off my title each year--to then become an associate editor, then an editor--and then to start adding on lofty words--senior editor, then executive editor, and so forth. Also, this being my first job, I figured that this was standard presidential behavior, doing whatever one wants. Rules were for the peons. My boss could come in late--she was my boss! But I couldn't come in late. She could take days to work at home, which I would have given my eye teeth to do. I figured, the longer I work here, the more privileges I would earn.

There was a newspaper stand in the lobby of the building where I worked. One of my job responsibilities included scanning the gossip columns of all the major NY dailies in search of hot, mass market material. I went down to buy a paper, I believe, or maybe it was gum--I don't really remember. But what I do remember was the excruciating sensation of a thick, somewhat sharp, Florsheim heel digging into my exposed toes. The man who was in line ahead of me had lost his balance and taken a clumsy step backward onto my right foot. He was too tall for me to catch him. Fortunately, he righted himself. I looked up at the man who almost fell over me, smiling--as my Midwestern instincts prioritized covering up others' embarrassment over expressing personal pain. 

"Excuse me," I said, as cheerfully as possible.

I realized I was talking to the man whose picture I saw in that magazine article, the president of my company. He was considerably taller than me--about six foot two to my five foot two, and at least 100 pounds heavier, much bigger than a headshot would indicate.I expected him to laugh, to pat my shoulder apologetically.

He stared at me in bewilderment at first. Then his mouth turned into a scowl. He continued to scowl at me, for dramatic effect I suppose, while shaking his head. Apparently my "excuse me," was being leveraged to make it look like I had caused this towering asshole to trip over me. He wouldn't stop scowling. I felt every nerve in my body stand at attention. I was truly frightened.

After a few seconds he broke his scowl and continued into the office. I stood there, confused initially, and then furious. This man thought he was too powerful for apologies. I had been willing to excuse all other indications of this man's arrogance as par for the corporate course. But this--this ten-second incident--disgusted me.

I shared my story with a few other peons. All of them laughed and thought I got out of the situation relatively unscathed.

"It could have been a lot worse than your foot," a co-worker said, "it could have been your job."

"What would he have done, dock my pay?" I said, defensively. Surely there was no rule in the employee manual about losing favor for unintentionally embarrassing an officer of the company. But I knew what she meant. Someone with that kind of an ego could affect my job in other ways--reject my promotion, put me in an undesirable position, ignore me in important meetings. It was only by virtue of my being so low on the totem pole that he didn't bother with me.

This bit of bad behavior shook me to the core. My shift in attitude was imperceptible to others, but critical to me: From that point on I would help my boss, but I was not there to help the company--HIS company. This jackass eventually left the company well after I did, but I had friends who still worked there, and none were exactly upset about his departure.

Of course, the company still functioned despite this decision of mine to despise the man, but imagine if a group of people had felt the same way, as well as a few people who were higher-up in the organization and had more impact. It would become a much bigger deal. Unfortunately it's often the people higher up who are the least liable to say anything--they have more to lose.

I supect that many companies run this way; operationally everything is running smoothly, but motivationally things are grinding to a halt. The people who do the work are so resentful of the people they work for that they cut little, imperceptible bits out of their effort--calling in sick some days, browsing the internet when they should be cold-calling, staying out a few extra minutes at lunchtime. And all will say the same thing to themselves to justify what they know is a half-assed effort: "I don't get paid enough to deal with this shit," which is a quantitative way of saying, "I don't feel valued here," or "I don't respect the shmoe in charge."

The newspaper stand incident stuck with me in ways I wasn't aware of until later, in future jobs, where I had more impact. If I had had my wits about me when that man tripped over me I would have said his behavior was inappropriate, that he owed me an apology. Of course, hindsight is 20-20, but I now seem to get impassioned by what I perceive as abuse of authority. I've gone to great lengths to speak up about it when I experience it, and the times I haven't I remember as black holes in my personal development--times of utter insecurity and confusion. I still feel I should have done more. The workforce in general can do more.

Reading this month's Fast Company I was astounded to read all of the letters from readers regarding a previous issue's cover story on bad bosses.

"And I thought I was the only one!" was the primary sentiment behind the notion that one's boss was deranged. So few of these readers had said anything about having to report to a criminal at the time they were experiencing turmoil at work; they were afraid to.

I realize that these cases are rarely cut and dried, otherwise more bad bosses would be outed. I haven't always liked the way my bosses managed their department, dealt with problems, etc, but only a handful of times have I just not liked the person. One boss I skewered in an exit interview used to pit his team against each other, making each of his reports think that the others were saying nasty things about them so that we did what he asked out of gratefulness for his good favor. The team finally met without him and discovered he was the source of the bad rumors. When I left the company I figured I had to say something, even if I'd had a few stimulating conversations with him at work functions about his passions outside of the office. Even if he did compliment me (in a professional manner) on my outfit. Even if he did call me wicked smart. If I'd met him in other circumstances I might have had a drink with the guy.

The other reason we don't speak up is because dysfunction often comes from the top and is filtered down. One boss I had seemed truly evil to me. She used to cut off my access to resources in the company, cancel my meetings to get to those resources and then reported that I wasn't cutting it at the job. Confused and realizing I had no recourse I realized I had to leave. Of course, I wanted to pull a Norma Rae and become the heroine of this story, tell management of all the lies and bad behavior, but I had no access to these people--who's to say where the false accusations were really coming from?

When I left the company I gave them documentation disproving my boss's claims (bad bosses really shouldn't mess with former journalists; we keep LOTS of records and are known to record things from time to time). The tone in the letter I left for management was, "Here, for what it's worth." I later learned that she'd been dealing with pressure from management, who were looking for a higher-level scapegoat. Perhaps she'd buckled under the pressure by making my life miserable. It doesn't excuse her behavior, but if I'd run to management crying about how unfair she was expecting to keep my job, I might have been mighty disappointed.

As I've gotten older the experiences have, on the whole, become far less intense, as I've become less likely to put up with a bully boss and am more willing to speak my truth, regardless of where it gets me. At a more recent job I told my boss quite honestly what was up, how I'd stopped wanting to perform in recession conditions, doing several jobs for a drastic decrease in pay. Some colleagues viewed this person as tough to talk to, but I suppose they'd never chosen the path of candor. The result of this conversation was a hug and some freelance work. 

I can't imagine there are too many bad bosses who go home at night proud to have made their employees' lives miserable. I've had bad bosses talk about the horrible bosses they had. They were like juvenile delinquents who hadn't yet mapped their abusive past to their current behavior. Maybe YOU are a bad boss and haven't admitted it to yourself yet. 

How do you know if you are a BAD boss? Consider your intentions. I ask myself: Have I always been a great boss? I don't think so. But a BAD boss? Absolutely not. The few times I've been in positions of authority I wouldn't have earned any leadership medals, but I would NEVER say that I didn't respect the people who reported to me. I may not have been able to pinpoint the areas where they or I needed to improve, but I wouldn't have thrown them under the bus to cover up my own shortcomings. I may have gotten uppity at times, but I apologized. I may have made people work too hard, but I always, genuinely, thanked them for making the effort. Despite ensuring them a paycheck I never assumed I had a right to waste their time.

These things seem like small distinctions--little in the grand scheme of corporate life. Who really cares if you don't thank people all the time? If you blow smoke on the underlings? If you decide to wield the power granted you just a little for a much-needed ego boost?

Alas, these are the assumptions that create the turnover, the small uprisings, and, eventually, your demise.

 

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Comments

[Joy Des Jardins]

We are definitely on the same page here Jor...I have worked with both good and bad bosses. The major difference I have learned....you work FOR a bad one, and you work WITH a good one.

[genevieve]

Thank goodness you can move around! Usually putting as much space as you can between them and you is the best solution. As the State Library of Victoria's human resources manual says, "Avoid engaging too closely with difficult people or you may be seen to be difficult yourself."
And sometimes if they are difficult enough, they've learnt to bounce off the better workers to their advantage, which means you can become something of a target. You are spot on about the demotivating effects of this dysfunctional behaviour.

[regina]

Hi Jory: great post!
Bad bosses can make people's lives really miserable. It's amazing to me that they don't realize the impact they have on people and/or that they do realize it and don't care. As you state, it creates alot of pathology and craziness in companies.

[Jill]

Great post.

[David Gibbons]

Great piece. Bad bosses are too common.

When evaluating job opportunities, I've tried to always pick the better boss over the better job and have regretted it when I've given into temptation not to.

Would love to hear your thoughts on "at-will" employment contracts. IMO they're a large root of this problem; it has become easier to replace talent than to develop it. As far as I know, we're the only country globally that perpetuates this archaic practice.

Thanks for typing.

[Stephanie]

I found this page and was intrigued to read the comments by other posters, as well as respond. Let me add that bully bosses don`t just exist in the corporate world. They also exist in the non-profit industry. There are many agencies that have been developed to help specific populations, such as troubled youth, yet the people running these organizations are in need of help themselves. In one place I worked for, there was no HR, the boss pitted staff against each other, he looked for a reason to nitpick for every little thing, nothing was ever good enough---and the supervisors below him are no better. One of the head supervisors that I worked under yelled and belittled myself and my co-workers for the most insignificant things (for me, it was not having a Masters Degree and having the nerve to speak against an idea the CEO of the company had decided upon). No matter where you work: be it a corporate office or a nonprofit agency or even a theater company and there are bully bosses out there who don`t focus on the task at hand. Instead, they live to make their employees lives miserable by undermining their abilities and skills. In the end, their inappropriate behavior speaks volumes about their insecurities and self-doubts.