Mr. Cartwright and the Final Solution

by Greta C. Wink

  It was so well-planned that, after one phone call, I had my first job as a professional Efficiency Agent. The company was called The Wedding Party. They provided professional DJs and MCs for weddings and other large events. They had a number of performers in their catalogue, and any client could peruse the catalogue, read about the performers’ experiences, style, and ratings, and make a selection. A few of the younger sales staff members were also aspiring performers. There is nothing wrong with being a young person in the work force; there is nothing better to build character and resolve than hard work. The problem is that often young people are not internally motivated to do the hard work. Depending on their aspirations, they don’t view their day jobs as their real jobs. A job that pays you, that relies on you, that makes you a part of a system that won’t function unless you perform well, is as real as a job gets.

  I visited The Wedding Party’s offices on a Thursday. I always try to do my first visits on Thursdays; the “almost the weekend” mentality has an interesting effect on performance. Some delay things for four days until Monday. Others scramble to get everything done by that evening so Friday will be that much more relaxing. On Friday I interviewed every staff member for five minutes, face-to-face. I only asked them one question: “Do you like your job?” and the conversation took over from there.

  On Monday, I made another observational visit to confirm or reject the suppositions from my previous visits. First thing Tuesday morning, I met with the CEO and the manager of his office.

  “How are you today?” His nervous office manager brushed a strand of lifeless hair behind her ear as she led me to his office. She would look more awake if she lightened it two shades.

  She walked us into the office and closed the door behind her, settling into a chair nearby as if we were about to build a campfire to keep ourselves warm all night. I noticed the CEO had a fresh cup of coffee next to a stack of pink slips on his desk. This interview, like the others, would only take five minutes. Five minutes of focused, intentional conversation with a stranger can cover more ground than an hour of a staff meeting with coworkers you’ve known for years. It all has to do with the person who speaks first.

  I always speak first. I asked the CEO if he liked his job.

  “I thought you were going to tell me who to fire.”

  I am always careful not to sigh where others would, or else they might think I am tiring of their stupidity or slowness. Instead, when I am tiring of someone’s stupidity and slowness, I hold my breath. I find it brings attention faster.

  I explained that the things I had to say might not be easy to hear. If he had too much invested in his employees personally, he may put his idea of their best welfare ahead of that of the company’s. He must understand, before we began, that if he saved one person’s job, he would sacrifice everyone else’s. To spare one person meant losing the whole business.

  He snorted. “You say that like you know I’m going to lose the company. We aren’t in that rough of a patch. People are waiting longer to get married, but when they do they have more expendable income and—“

  I slipped a chart across the desk. CEOs love to look at charts, though they rarely know how to read them. It was clear, however, that the company would be bankrupt after twenty-six months, even with a slight economic upturn.

  He kept his eyes on the chart, trying to find a flaw in something he didn’t understand, so I knew he wasn’t going to listen to me. “What do you have in mind?”

  I handed him a list of his employees. I’d given each employee a reference number and instructed him to refer to each person as that number, rather than using his or her name, so as to think of them as pieces instead of people. They had to be thought of as parts in a machine, for the sake of the machine.

  He rolled his eyes. “You said that already. You’re repeating yourself. You say you’re an efficiency expert but you’re repeating yourself. Why should I listen to you?”

  His slim manager kept her eyes on her lap. I wondered if the CEO had forgotten that she was there, even though she was sitting right in front of him. I had a feeling that happened a lot.

  I know that I am efficient, and that most others aren’t, requiring me to repeat myself because usually people aren’t listening enough to believe, they’re only hearing enough to be skeptical.

  But, as I suspected he wouldn’t really listen to me say that either, I began my evaluation. He had a large sales team, but they were each pulling their own weight. Employees 016 and 019 were especially talented, and seemed to enjoy their work. Employee 024 was the youngest, but regularly outsold the older employees. The only one whose numbers weren’t excellent was 022, but she wanted to be an actress, so she probably wouldn’t stay long anyway.

  “So should I fire her now? Or force the older employees into retirement? Maybe I should hire all younger people.”

  He was missing the point entirely. I hadn’t said any such thing. Instead of repeating myself, I told him that the sales team was not the problem.

  “Then maybe I should cut some performers. They’re a dime a dozen.”

  The performers were all very highly rated by the customers and they reported high job satisfaction. With a performer, that’s what motivates them more than anything: job satisfaction. In particular, Employees 103, 113, and 121 were extremely valuable considering the relationship of their talent and their wages.

  The CEO dropped the paper. “So you spent three days at my company to tell me I shouldn’t fire anyone. All that’s left are myself and her.” He nodded to his manager, whom he suddenly decided to include in the conversation.

  I cleared my throat. My research had confirmed my original thesis: that Employee 201 was the biggest drain on resources and didn’t bring in any new business.

  The fidgety manager checked and double-checked her employee spreadsheet to make sure she had heard me correctly. The CEO stared me down in a futile attempt to get me to change my mind. I continued to tell him that since he hadn’t actively worked as a sales rep for almost three years, he was not generating more income, but he had the highest salary. Most of his “work” included planning on ways to spend company money on himself and short his employees. Employee 202 (I nodded to the trembling woman beside me) bore the brunt of the managerial and administrative work. Productivity and morale plummeted whenever he walked into his employees’ workspaces, and stress skyrocketed if he began an unexpected conversation with someone. When someone had an idea, they did it without asking for fear that he would shoot them down, and they would rather ask for forgiveness than ask for permission.

  There was only one way to save the company. I folded my hands on the shallow depth of table space between myself and Employee 201 and told him my solution.

  I left the building shortly after making this statement. He didn’t say in so many words, but he was not going to take my advice. He refused to pay for my analysis. He swore I would never analyze anything again unless it was the posterior of a baboon. This did not bother me. Likely the CEO would make a slew of bad decisions in a show of autonomy, and bring an earlier downfall than I predicted.

  I sat in my car and ran the new numbers. Eighteen months, tops. A knock on my window caught my attention. Employee 202, the fidgety, trembling manager, stood outside my window holding a box of office supplies.

  “He fired me.” She shifted the weight of the box. I can’t say that I was surprised. “And Employees 016, 019, 024, 103, 113, and 121.”

  She was better off, and I told her so. I tucked my calculator into my work bag. I was ready for the next step.

  “You know, we’ve been complaining about him ever since he stopped working with the sales team. He used to be a really great salesman. He started the company himself from two people. I don’t know what happened.”

  What always happens: when he reached success, he thought he didn’t have to work hard anymore. A good boss doesn’t have employees working for him, he has employees working with him. Now he had fired his best employees, and it would o
nly quicken his downfall.

  The former office manager’s eyes drifted back towards the building, and mine followed. Employees 016, 019, 024, 103, 113, and 121 streamed out of the building towards my car. 103 took an early lead and shoved her head through my window.

  “Are you the jerk who got us fired?” She was so close I could smell her second coffee.

  “It’s not like that.” The former office manager pulled her back and explained the situation to the gathering crowd. All carrying their brown cardboard pack-up-your-things-you’re-fired boxes, they looked like an ad for a job placement agency.

  “Then what are we supposed to do now?” 103 asked. “Do you have a plan for that?”

  Actually, I did. I told them all to come to my apartment the next day at 10 am.

  And to bring a calculator.

  WELCOME TO FINAL SOLUTIONS

  Please forget any other training you’ve ever had.

  Clear your mind and remember that you are here to learn, not to demonstrate what you already know.

  Like as not you don’t know much anyway.

  You will spend six months in training. Please refer to the title page of this training manual for your Employee Training Number. For efficiency’s sake you will be referred to by your ETN during all business hours. Do not take this personally. Let’s not speak of it again.

  You will be required to discuss each case with your Trainer for a minimum of 120 minutes. You may organize your workday however best suits your metabolism as long as you (a) meet your daily goals and (b) do not hinder the schedule of anyone else. Exercise your own judgment in clothing yourself for work. Dress like someone who has health insurance and doesn’t need to use it.

  You will follow directions immediately and to the best of your ability. Asking questions is the practice of a mind always seeking clarification from its natural fog.

  To resist any or all of these practices will result in immediate termination.

  7.

  At first, Zero-Zero-One thought that Final Solutions was not a good name for a company. She was not afraid to say it; as soon as she arrived at my apartment, half an hour early (like a former office manager would), she told me that the name had dire historical connotations. I asked if she’d heard of St. Jude.

  St. Jude is the patron saint of hopeless causes. There was some superstition in the early church that if one prayed to St. Jude, then supernatural wires would cross and the prayer would arrive at the knees of Judas Iscariot, the man who sold Christ for thirty pieces of silver. Thus, those praying to St. Jude were so desperate for help they were willing to risk contacting the devil himself.

  Zero-Zero-One narrowed her eyes as she flipped through her short training manual. “So whoever comes to Final Solutions will be ready to do whatever is necessary.”

  I watched her in silence as she read the training manual from front to back. She looked at me with a smile. “This company is going to be huge.”

  I smiled back. I knew I liked her from the beginning. Now we’d just have to talk about her hair.

  As their former manager, Zero-Zero-One greeted my new employees as they arrived to reassure them that this was real, was not insane, was a good idea. She would tell me later that she called each one the night before to convince them to show up. They all looked a bit shell-shocked, sitting on cheap stools in the area that was both my kitchen and living room, listening to me outline our business goals. Only Zero-Zero-One, a new legal pad balanced on her lap, looked confident and ready to work.

  That changed soon enough. It was not easy training my staff. The company ran a deficit for the first six months because I would not allow any of them to take a case for themselves. I was certain that if they were all properly trained, then I would gain profit in their lack of mistakes when they went out on their own.

  I worked 80 hours a week. My job became my life, and I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. On the contrary, I think people should find a job they can dedicate their lives to, even if it’s not a job they’ve always dreamt of having. There’s no excuse for half measures if your job affects someone else. Really, all jobs affect someone else, and I was satisfied to spend so much time at mine.

  My employees were not robots, so sometimes they had bad moments. Sometimes they were tired, or lost patience, or got frustrated, but they put in their work every day. At the end of six months, my six new consultants made their first field visits. They knew exactly what to do. There are only so many problematic situations to be solved in companies, and they’d seen them all. I declined their questions about approval on their results, and sent them back to their final consultations with a vote of confidence.

  Sometimes it counts to tell people that you believe in them. I knew I was doing good work, and my employees knew they were doing good work, so we were both happy. Of the seven companies consulted, three accepted our solutions and issued the necessary layoffs. The other four paid the fee but chose not to follow our advice until several months later, when they realized we were right and fired the suggested parties.

  By the end of the tenth month, my consultants were earning enough to turn a handsome profit. By the end of the twelfth month, it became clear that the recession was here to stay, and our name spread through the grapevine of small businesses in the area. Soon we had more consultations than we could fill. Zero-Zero-One had proved her worth and adaptability, and took on as many cases as I. I hired eight more consultants and trained them in the manner dictated in their manuals, but Zero-Zero-One and I split their training between us. With fewer people to train each, they were ready to consult after only four months in training.

  It was around that time that, thanks to an article in the local paper about the accidental death of the CEO of The Wedding Party, my personal fame really took off.

  PRIVACY POLICY AND NON-DISCLOSURE AGREEMENT

  The undersigned, ___________________, hereto referred to as EMPLOYEE, thus agrees to the following in regards to employment at FINAL SOLUTIONS, LLC, hereto referred to as FINAL SOLUTIONS, and to the individual owner of FINAL SOLUTIONS, hereto referred to as EMPLOYER:

  The EMPLOYEE will not discuss the practices and cases of FINAL SOLUTIONS except within the FINAL SOLUTIONS offices with FINAL SOLUTIONS employees.

  The EMPLOYEE will only discuss the CLIENT’S case in the CLIENT’s office with the CLIENT, as determined in the individual contract with the CLIENT.

  The EMPLOYEE will not knowingly enter incorrect information into the FINAL SOLUTIONS computer database.

  The EMPLOYEE will issue all emails from the provided email address. The EMPLOYEE will not alter the signature or outgoing mail name on the email address.

  The EMPLOYEE will only use work computers for work purposes, unless EMPLOYEE has finished the required hours and is doing work for another self-appointed project.

  The EMPLOYEE will not mention the EMPLOYER by name, description, or reputation. When speaking of the EMPLOYER, the EMPLOYEE will hereto only use the name FINAL SOLUTIONS.

  These measures are taken for the safety, security, and integrity of all the employees. To fail to adhere to these measures will result in immediate termination.

  8.

  As soon as Zero-Zero-One recognized the potential in Final Solutions, she suggested that I take measures to protect my identity.

  “Most of the people you get fired will not be happy,” she advised, flipping through her legal pad, not so new now, to a blank page. “You already have the non-disclosure agreement, and it’s pretty exclusive. But I’m afraid there will be other ways to leak your identity, through pictures on the Internet, or casual mentions of your name in the newspapers… have you ever been in the newspaper? Even for the honor roll?”

  I had been in the newspaper for the honor roll, but I was never pictured.

  “What about yearbooks? Is there anyone who might have old pictures of you, or know your current address, or anything like that?”

  I was in a couple yearbooks, but only as a small child. Back then I was
called by my middle name, because my first and last name in combination were one of the most common names in the country. I had registered Final Solutions under my first two initials and last name, so as to distinguish myself from others, but also keep some privacy.

  Zero-Zero-One shook her head and smiled. “Of course. You would think of that. You always have a plan…”

  Of course I did. When we hired the third group of trainees at the beginning of month twenty-five, I introduced myself to them by a pseudonym, explaining that the CEO of the company was at another location, training employees. (Zero-Zero-One winked at me as I said it.) When they saw how driven and hard-working their new coworkers were, they stepped up their game, and their training was done in three months, which became the standard from then on. The older employees, those who knew my name, face, and identity, were asked to sign a stricter non-disclosure agreement, which they did happily. They had no intention of betraying the company. They were too grateful for their new lives. More on that in a moment.

  By the end of month thirty-six, I had twenty-seven employees, all fully trained in doing every business task from changing the copier toner to invoicing a client for a consultation. Our “if you CAN do it, DO it” office attitude prevented unnecessary bureaucracy from getting in the way of progress. (It also inspired a popular motivational poster.) Every employee knew how to do everything, so there was no time wasted trying to find the “right” person to sign for the UPS delivery.

  By that time we had moved into the second floor of an almost-empty business park outside the city. No employee had more than a thirty-minute commute. In three years, I had not needed to lay off one person. I was twenty-eight years old.