Mencius Moldbugman

Deepak sits down at your desk. He turns the PC off and then on again. The PC now turns on immediately with no problem whatsoever. Deepak glares at you. When he’s gone you notice that one of your French chocolates have disappeared. It’s now 11am.

You open Outlook and wait for the folder to update. Suddenly you hear a “Hi!”. It’s Zoe from HR. She wants to thank you for the birthday cake and then proceeds to monologue about how her husband (who works in banking) plans to treat her for her birthday weekend. It’s now 11.30.

Politely - meekly - you gently tell Zoe that you have enjoyed the conversation but have work to do. She looks at you and says “Well you have a nice day.” Finally you open your emails. 5 minutes later you receive an email from Zoe saying she did not appreciate your tone just now.

Zoe thinks that you could work on your workplace language and that tone “is something you can work on”. She thinks it will help to make the office a #greatplacetowork. She sends you an invite for an all-day training on “Respect” for tomorrow. She signs off with “Kind regards”.

For a moment you sit silently pondering the meaning of the words “kind regards”. You receive another email that says it is a “gentle reminder” about the compulsory Family Day this weekend. You try to think when was the last time somebody wrote sincerely to you.

It’s lunchtime. You buy a sandwich as all you want to do is eat at your desk and zone out watching an anime episode for 30 minutes. Just as you’re about to put on your headphones someone taps you on your shoulder. It’s Ian from Sales. He tells you how he is “smashing it” in Q4.

After 20 minutes of Ian telling you how much he is “knocking it out of the park” you make your excuses and go to the toilet for some peace and quiet. The male toilet has disappeared overnight. Now there is an “All-Gender Toilet” and the door is decorated in rainbow hearts.

You go through 3 stalls before you find one that hasn’t got a used tampon floating in the basin or discarded on the floor. You put on your headphones and watch 10 minutes of anime in the toilet. This is the best part of the day. In the next stall you overhear Ian crying.

Ian starts to mumble to himself between his sobbing. “You’re a corporate tiger, Ian! You’ve got this! Q4 is gonna be your quarter!” You wonder how much Ian is really “knocking it out of the park” and leave. A woman glares at you as you leave the all-gender toilet.

You get back to your desk and you can’t enter your PC again because you’re 30-day password has expired and you must create a new one. You try the name of your first dog, mother’s date of birth, primary school address... all are rejected for not being strong enough.

You try them all again with added capital letters and symbols but they still fail. Eventually you give up and input a string of 20 random letters and numbers. You’ll never remember it so you write it down on Post-It and stick it to your desk for future reference.

An email arrives from Jane in Finance. They won’t process your invoice because there is a new procedure and you failed to follow it correctly. You ask where this new process was announced. She tells you it’s on the intranet’s Finance page. You never knew you had an intranet.

You go onto the intranet page and it tells you that all invoices must now be submitted through a new Oracle system. Sighing, you click the link to download the Oracle system. A pop-up springs open and says you don’t have administrative permission to download new software.

You call IT to ask them to download the new invoice platform. They tell you to raise a service ticket. You raise the ticket. It’s now 5pm and nobody has replied to you. You call IT again but they’ve all left for the day.

Desperately, you search the office for someone who can potentially help. You bribe the autistic guy in the corner office to help you get round the IT permissions. Finally you submit your invoice on the new system. A pop-up tells you that the deadline for invoices was yesterday.

Most of the office has gone home. A few people that you hate stop by your desk to tell you not to work too late. “I can’t work late like you,” chuckles Jane from Finance. “I have a family to look after.” You don’t even have a girlfriend. Jane thinks you should “get one”.

The office lights dim around you and the A/C shuts down. They are all automated to power down after 7pm to help the company achieve its Sustainability Goals. You know this cos you attended a meeting on the firm’s sustainability goals presented by 2 McKinsey consultants in suits.

Sweltering in a dark office, alone and hungry, only the light from your PC illuminates your surroundings. You have achieved absolutely nothing once again.

Luckily, there is always time tomorrow to complete the unfinished tasks. Wednesday is a new day. As you switch off Outlook, a “gentle reminder” from Zoe in HR pings in reminding you that you have an all-day training session tomorrow. She signs off: “Kind regards”.

You awake from a terrible dream. No. That’s wrong. You awoke into a terrible dream. It’s Wednesday. It’s halfway through the working week. You’re 35. You’re halfway through your life. Neither is looking bright right now.

On the train to work you spot an advert for a job site. It’s a multicoloured garish image of happy people with bright teeth and sharp suits. You look around at your fellow commuters. Everybody looks like shit. You wonder where these great jobs are and return to your phone.

Today is an all-day training, so you arrive early to clear your emails before it starts but once again you’re locked out of your PC. You succeed in grabbing Kumar from IT. He tells you that security saw your post-it note with your password written on it so blocked your access.

You get angry. You explain that you really need to access your PC. Kumar replies that you were locked out for your own safety and security. You ask how long you will be locked out for. Kumar says 24 hours. You decide to watch anime in the toilet until the training starts.

You enter the training. The room is full of desperate-looking men staring downwards and women holding pens. “Welcome!” shouts HR Zoe. “Looks like someone had an accident!” She points to your pants and everyone laughs. This is a respect seminar. It doesn’t matter. You’re a man.

Everyone is asked to introduce by stating 3 funny facts about themselves. Janet: “I have 2 adorable kids, make a mean lasagne, and I loooooove my coffee!” Everyone laughs. John: “I’m from Ohio, visited Trinidad twice, and I loooooove my coffee!” Everyone laughs.

It’s your turn. You say: “I think Nietzsche was overly optimistic. I once shared a beer with Mel Gibson. I enjoy hot toddies made with real Martinique rum on a toasty cozy evening.” Nobody laughs. “Does he have a drinking problem?” you hear one woman whisper to another.

The training begins and Zoe turns on a PowerPoint presentation. The first slide is a 500 word intro entitled “What is Respect?” Zoe proceeds to read out every single word even though it is right there on the screen. You internally sigh. Everyone else nods their heads sagely.