Don't Shit Where You Eat

Ok, profanity?  Really? 

Well, I’ve never said I wasn’t coarse right down to my bones.

Besides, this isn’t mine.  It’s a common turn of phrase that I’ve often thought, but rarely said.

What’s worse, in doing a little internet search, it doesn’t mean what I think it means.  Or at least originally didn’t.  In reference after reference, it appears to relate to dating within the office. 

Except that’s completely and utterly not how I’m using it here. 

I’m using it in the “don’t cause trouble in a place or situation you are often in” sense.  But still in the sense of the workplace. 

I’ve seen people go out on Social Media and gripe about the company they work for.  Sometimes it’s blatant, and sometimes it’s more subtle.  I’ve heard people talk about their previous employers as bad places, saying things like, “I’d never recommend that place to anyone.”  

It’s one thing to think about the problems you see within an organization and talk about them in a generic way, in the hope of communicating with someone that has solutions that might be a good fit for where you are.  It’s something else entirely to badmouth your company, by name, in public.

I don’t get that.  That business is on your resume, and every negative thing you publicize about your organization devalues your time there and your resume.  And you’ve further identified yourself as someone who badmouths their organizations after the fact (or worse, during).  Who is going to want to hire someone like that?

You have just whizzed in the water cooler. 

Now, I’ve seen sites out there like glassdoor.com, which purports to offer a clear “insider” view to an organization.  I don’t know how accurate those portrayals are, but even if you posted anonymously, you’ve dooked in the doughnuts. 

And why?  To stick it to your former employer who took a chance on you, gave you a paycheck?  Seems a little disingenuous.  To "helpfully" warn good people to not waste their career there, like you did? 

See, I don’t think it’s enough to talk about the bad stuff there and air dirty laundry.  Every organization has some.  If you have a beef with your organization, try to change it.  If it doesn’t change, leave.  But just because you didn’t fit in there, or just because they don’t run the company the way you would, that doesn’t mean that the next person to come along won’t be the one to turn things around.

Companies, like people, evolve and grow.  Some even learn from their mistakes.  Remember that every little thing you see as negative may just be the result of a positive decision that was made somewhere else.  Organizations don’t optimize around you.

I’m not saying there are no bad companies out there; only that what’s bad to you might be a great turnaround opportunity for the right next person, and that you do no one any favors badmouthing any company in your history.

Don’t plop in the popcorn.  Ever.

Dead Man Walking

I put in my notice this week that I’ll be moving on to a new workplace.  Starting a new chapter.  Mowing a greener lawn.  It’s a move that I think surprises precisely no one.  And because I have a huge interest in organizational structure, how organizations evolve and behave, and employee morale, I thought I’d document my experiences on the way out. 

Note: nothing written here is intended to cast aspersions on my current organization.  I've grown quite a bit here - professionally, technically, and personally - and the company has encouraged that growth every step of the way. 

Before announcing

We know that transitions don’t work.  And knowing those things, I wanted to try a few things to make it better for the organization.  Just because I’m moving on, that doesn't mean that I want the folks I’m leaving behind to suffer in any wake I might leave.

Now, I did something atypical, I think.  In the week before I announced my departure, I inventoried everything I owned or had unique knowledge in.  I gave special attention to anything I knew that might be unique to me, so that it might be given some light.  I wrote it down, and kept it in a separate file that I added to daily.

In the time leading up to my announcement, everything I did that would need to be taken forward, I made sure I did in conjunction with someone else, so that they would know how to do it, having either watched on or completed it under my supervision.  Any tasks I had that were completely isolated, I took pains to ensure they would be completed before I departed and that no one would have to take them over.

During the time I was on the job search, I took the time to prepare more documentation than usual.  I know it’s what we’re supposed to be doing anyway, but I find most developers don’t.  Every time I found a piece of information only I knew, I put it in our wiki, so that it would have the chance of being discoverable in the future.

I gave this information over when I announced, and I believe it was greatly appreciated.

Post announcement

Thing is, after announcing my resignation, and after the organization all heard, I start to see signs of it healing around me.  Meetings I was invited to, I either no longer have to attend, or I bring the person I’m grooming to take over the task.  The way I teed it up, I’m basically making sure I’m here for a solid transition. 

People who didn't not previously work together, I see them working together as projects who used me as a resource switch to other resources.  The amount of requests I’m getting for transition of ideas is already slowing.  I can feel myself fading into the background and being allowed to let replacements step up and forward.  And that’s all a good thing.

I really like that whole self-healing idea.  If you’re a contributor to an organization, as long as you’re not a Net Negative Producing Programmer, leaving is going to cause some pain to the organizational organism.  The start of transition meetings and transition plans and handovers are the platelets coming to the scene of the wound to form a clot and first stop any bleeding. 

This clotting phase includes messaging.  I have to admit, I had intended to control the messaging on my departure on my own terms, thinking maybe of announcing it to everyone at once, but given that I botched my last departure from an organization, I consulted with a few clever folks with more experience than I, and they helped me understand that controlling the message was the organization’s way of starting the healing process.  I kept quiet about it, and I guess it worked out ok so far.

That wound will close and heal eventually, and all that will be left is my name in the source code repository and document histories.  And some of those things I leave behind will become beautiful tattoos, and some will become scars.  And that’s okay.

The goal is to not leave a vacuum that closes with a damaging thunderclap.  Even though I've become a bit of a junk drawer in the organization, I’m certain that I can transition better than most.  For any given task, the replacement is groomed to be as much a clone of me as I can create, while realizing that all copies are lossy, because anyone I’m transitioning to already has a job they are doing full time.

I imagine it’s a little like being a lame duck president.  I hear all the cool names I've always heard applied to everyone else.  I’m the “dead man walking” or “Mr. Short-timer”.  In general, my voice no longer matters.

I would assert an organization has no better independent consultant on things that could improve the company than an outgoing employee.  At this point they are free to pick my brain on issues knowing full well I have no political aspirations or machinations within the firm.  And I’m making myself available for such consultation.  Whether they care to hear it, or whether they’re sore and insulted I’m leaving, or whether they trust I would give them good advice because their success is no longer entirely my concern all remain to be seen.

And on my way out, I have no intention of badmouthing anyone or anything.  I have my reasons for leaving, and if anyone’s been paying any attention to me at all over the time I've been there, they know what I think.  Because I've been honest and candid about the organization, the processes, the people, the work, everyone already knows my opinion on everything.  Now is not the time to vent.  It’s the time to celebrate past successes and growth, help the company heal, and move forward.

In short, my goal is to be the sort of alumnus my current employer will be proud to talk about to future incoming employees.  I want to be the poster child for leaving well and with class.