For several reasons this passage on JP Raganswami’s blog resonates with me strongly. Especially today as I wish had it at hand during a particular conversation last night.

Why is it that so many firms buy this argument, that staff should somehow be blocked from doing anything but work at work? The only explanation I can find is that even in the 21st century, people spend more time trying to measure and control inputs rather than outputs. More fodder for Fossilfools, I guess.

I thought that people get paid for results rather than effort. Analogous to JM Keynes’ engine of healthy enterprise being profit rather than thrift, controlling and monitoring inputs alone is not just dangerous but ultimately counterproductive. You might as well get knowledge workers to punch cards on their way in and their way out.

Which is fine, but then firms have to bear the consequences. Clockwatching. Work to rule. Unionisation. Contractual commitments to pay overtime. Jobsworth attitudes. Tunnel vision. You treat people like machines, you should expect mechanical results.

Thanks JP! I appears that PC (political correctness, not the machine that brings excitement and unpredictability to our work lives!) was brewed in the same pot. What goes round, comes round. To point out the absurdity of the pin-pushers and bean-counters, he turns the table on them:

If things go this way, I guess I can foresee a time where spouses and children start class actions against firms for providing their partner/parent with a BlackBerry. Stealing personal and family time….. I won’t laugh, it could happen yet. Oh frabjous day calloo callay.

And the correct fossilised response would be? To continue issuing the Blackberries, but telling staff they are banned from using them at home or outside office hours.

I have a feeling that even pointing this out would not get companies to realise why it is so important that individual employees are treated as assets and not just units in a system.

Thanks to Jackie for the pointer.

On the road again. This is one of my favourite places. The first time I came here I spent about 9 hours there in one go. Sad but true.

After a few hours there last Saturday, with a friend of mine, we set out to find a lunch. What better place to have one than a luncheonette?!

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The most important race of the day. Went to the track instead watching it from our box. Newmill won – nobody around bet on him. Money lost but wine flowing freely to drawn the sorrow. Off to warm up before the next race.

Star de Mohaison won. Three horses fell over. Big pile up ensues.

Nicanor won. My companion bet on Refinement who came third. Some money collected. Exciting.

The cultural bit…

Today, ill and in a rather weakened state, I made it to the Cheltenham festival horse racing. 65,000 people descend on a small spa town of Cheltenham in Gloucestershire. I am here for the day only and already discovered the best mode of transport to the track. More later…

Not much blogging going on here as I have been busy. This is the blogger’s curse – in order to have something to write about, one must go out and do stuff. So this is what I did in NYC last weekend.

Friday night arrived from New Jersey back to civilisation of the West Village, immediately whisked away for a nice Thai meal in Spice Market. Several hours and sake glasses later ended up in a wonderfully divey and grimey place somewhere near Thompson street. Complete with peanuts in shells, bourbon, vodka and beer. Oh, and very loud live music, which actually went well with the place.

Saturday was mid-town ’sophisticated’ leisure. Brunch in Trump Tower Bar & Grill, of course. Had to be done, dahlink.

And afterwards, hunt for decent coffee and …a cigar. I am sure that the mellow but flavoursome little number at Davidoff’s had something to do with losing my voice the next day. (The picture of the little private room for smoking a cigar is from their website).

The noisy bar on Saturday night and heated conversations about blogs and internet didn’t help either. So no Sunday fun for me, only packing and travelling. Just go ahead and feel sorry for me.