CléaWe hit it off within the first couple of days of meeting. And by meeting, I mean when he joined my team. He came highly recommended, was easy going and keen to help. His pleasant mannerisms were of the kind that drew people towards him.
Within a couple of weeks, we discovered we had much in common both professionally and socially. We shared a long-term passion for the same hobby, compared noted on many travels, even enjoyed listening to some daggy tunes from the 80s.
For many months, we worked well together. The quality of Adam’s output was above all others, always thorough and analytical. Professionally, he was my equal but he had chosen a position of lower rank for personal reasons. And he never undermined my authority nor expressed any desire in the more stressful nature of my work. He often offered assistance to me or others if needed, ensuring his tasks were completed first. Consequently, I bounced ideas off him and he was a good source of knowledge.
Outside of our jobs, I could see an alliance forming, even a potential friendship and house visits. With a lot in common, we hit it off on a personal level, occasionally sharing amusing anecdotes and experiences from our past.
As his boss, I did my best to promote his skills, and that of another team member, ensuring superiors were aware of their valued contribution. I have a habit of encouraging those with potential, developing them under my wing and ensuring they are noticed by management for future opportunities. When I received a rare email of gratitude from senior managers, I never took the full credit when the work effort was shared with others. And that included Adam’s contributions.
When the major piece of work was near completion, and the team was about to be disassembled, we both expressed our hope that we would get the chance to work together again. A show of sentimentality, perhaps, but not unusual; I have made some lasting friends over time through work contacts.
But when the time came to leave, I noted a change in his attitude. He started keeping to himself a lot, hiding his screen when I entered his workspace and he had little to say in terms of the usual chit-chat. He suddenly befriended the people he outwardly didn’t respect in the past and I sensed something was taking place behind the scenes. Unfortunately, my suspicions were real.
It has been a while since I have left that workplace, whereas his last minute politicking ensured him a more permanent role. We met one time socially in a group setting and the awkwardness was palpable. I could sense the guilt in him and I consciously kept a certain distance.
Last week I received an email from someone who works with him, voicing her dissatisfaction with work and the newfound stifling ambience. “You should see how Adam has changed,” she said. “No longer the nice guy we knew. Always dumping the hard work on us. Always in the boss’s ear. Barely doing any work but giving everyone orders. Yet he’s not in charge of anything. Who would have thought he’d turn out the way he did?”
I wasn’t surprised. I had seen his true colours the moment he dipped his hands in the brown muck of corporate politics. People have a way of disappointing sometimes. You just have to let them go.
Tags: cbmused, corporate politics, disappointment, personal gain, when good people turn bad
I’ve met these people in my work as well. I completely agree with making the decision to cut the cord when you see their true colours – and occasionally leaving them with a toe to the arse is the right thing to do too.
People like this disgust me. There’s one my workplace but I can’t do anything about it. As long as I don’t have to collaborate with her on any projects, I’m fine.
GSR: Unfortunately, when I cut the cord it was too late. I had already mentored and prepped him up for better things. Now I’m rethinking if developing anyone is a good thing, when they have a way of turning on you.
And I’d stick a sharp heel in the arse. No skin contact.
Almost Loved: That’s the thing, I come across them often enough, and I have to work with them/for them. When they show their true colours from the start, you just keep a distance but when they’re nice then they turn for their own gain, there’s nothing you can do.
“You are as much a friend as you are useful.”
Or you are as much an ally as you are useful, at least when you look at it this way. In a way, I have brought people up and mentored them only to see them become the last people I expect them to see. In many ways, scratch that, in every way, it’s disappointing. But you’re right, the only thing you can do is let them go.
Just that maybe it’s just me, that sometimes, just sometimes, you hope there is some shred of what you taught left in them.
Kami: Once someone has betrayed my trust and I’ve lost respect for them, there is no going back. Whatever I have taught them, mentored them or developed them, I wish I could take back. Such is the way I feel after investing time and effort, both of which are not expected of me in my roles. It’s a slap in the face.
I don’t believe that your “You are as much a friend as you are useful” applies to everyone, and there are good people around who appreciate it and don’t take advantage of it. I am one, and that is why I give back. But after this incident I am not sure I will invest in anyone any more. I don’t like being used.
Hmm..his name was “Adam”–and the “original sin” was delving into corporate politics.
Is this some kind of “Paradise Lost” metaphor?
Zen: As always, you are spot on. When I wrote this post, I had this biblical undertone in mind, and words like treason came to mind. I’m most impressed.
I really, really hate it when that happens. I know… I’ve seen it too…
Gboy: The experience has changed me. I will no longer give that little extra. Each to their own from now on. I really hate playing the political game.