Reese Kaplan - A Very Grim Fairy Tale

This parable from the world of business might help elucidate some of the current machinations that confound the casual observer.

Once upon a time, at Southern Technology Enterprise Manufacturing (STEM), dapper and successful CEO Arthur Visionary assembles his entire management team for a meeting to make a corporate proclamation.  There’s a lot of conversation abuzz throughout the attendees who are frankly a bit uneasy about what the big man has in mind.  With a trumpet sound blaring from his omnipresent Blackberry, Visionary clears his throat and begins.

“I’ve called you all here today to talk about the best way for us to move forward against the intense competition threatening to make us irrelevant.  We’re going to identify the best and the brightest young talent we can find and create an internship program in order to give them responsibility, mold their minds and then reward them handsomely for successful completion.  In fact, to make this new venture even more effective, anyone we enroll in it is going to have a jumpstart on the big dollars he or she deserve as a reward for their achievements and their talent.  In the long run we’re going to have people beating down our door to get into this program.  And if we're smart, we'll lock 'em up into long term contracts guaranteeing our success!”

Applause, huzzahs and congratulations abound from everyone assembled in the Board Room at this announcement.  What better way to drive the company forward but to make it desirable for young people to work there and to get rewarded for their development!

Fast forward a few years and now STEM is helmed by newcomer Peter Myopia.  He also is ready to make a corporate announcement and the management team is far more anxious this time than they were during the Visionary regime.  Times have gotten tougher, corners are being cut and pennies are being pinched.  With a clip of Miley Cyrus’ “Wrecking Ball” emanating from his gold iPhone, the movers and shakers settle down to see what their fearless leader has to say.

“Ladies and gentleman, it’s no secret that we’re getting our asses kicked and have been in a downward spiral for the past several years.  Desperate times call for desperate measures, and I think it’s time we abandon John Visionary’s internship entitlement program.  If you want to earn a living, then prove you belong here.  You’ll make your money but only when we say you will.”

Nervous chatter and murmuring swells to a dull roar until finally one intrepid soul named Steve Diplomacy tentatively raises his hand to ask a clarifying question.

“Mr. Myopia, while we understand the realities of the economy and all, how are we going to replenish our talent if not by promoting the best and the brightest?  Won’t our competitors snatch them all up?”

“You’re fired, Mr. Diplomacy!  I’m not an idiot, but apparently you are.  Didn’t you read the employment contracts before you opened your yap?  The fresh talent are in effect our indentured servants for the first several years of their employment career.  We can do with them what we will.  And if they decide they don’t want to work for us, guess what?  They can’t work for anyone else either!   Bwahh ha ha!”

Now the room is positively frantic trying to figure out the direction their fearless leader has in mind.  Before long one of the long term VPs named Frank Parachute speaks his mind.

“That’s all well and good, Mr. Myopia, but what does that say to other prospective employees, let alone our own EXISTING employees that we would manipulate the system that way.  Isn’t that counterproductive?”

Myopia slams his fist on the podium and says, “You’re lucky you’ve been here so long, Parachute, or you’d be following Mr. Diplomacy onto the unemployment line.  You don’t get it!  We can still recruit the best and the brightest.  We just won’t pay them until we’re damned good and ready.  In the interim, we can fill those empty jobs with has-beens and never-wases that won’t bankrupt the organization with bonuses and long term contract demands because, well, they’re not good enough to warrant them.”

Now the room is positively shaking in incredulity but no one seems to have the courage to say anything for fear of what Myopia will do to them.  At that point the door opens and an intern named  Gwen Crocodile brings in some fresh coffee and cleans up the empty cups littering the table.  Myopia seizes on the opportunity and puts his arm around Gwen's shoulder.

“Look, people, take a good look at young Ms. Crocodile here.  We plucked her out of obscurity, and while she doesn’t totally embarrass the organization, she only costs us minimum wage.  We don’t have to worry about a bonus because she wasn’t good enough for Visionary’s obsolete internship program anyway.  We were able to hire her directly into our organization with no worries about money down the road because she’s not going anywhere.  Don’t you see how much money we’re saving by having lightweights like Crocodile around here?”

Gwen shakes herself free from Myopia’s grasp and glares at him.  With a shaky voice she says, “Are you fucking serious?  I may not ever be one of your superstar performers, but I’m talking to a lot of them here and at your competitors.  They’re all telling me the same thing.  Why would they want to come work for a company who artificially delays the start of their careers in order to save a few bucks 2-3 years down the road?  There’s no guarantee they’ll even perform well enough to earn it.  Furthermore, they’re not stupid.  They’ll remember who screwed them out of their money.  The very first day they’re eligible to bolt, they will.  And then what will you have achieved, Mr. Myopia?  You have to train a whole new crop of lightweights like me to do their job because you don’t get a crack at superstars every day, do you?”

“You’re fired, too, Crocodile!  Anyone else want to offer up their informed opinion?  No?  Thank you very much.  Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out!”  

Five years later they’re teaching a very popular case study at the Wharton School of Business on “How Myopia Led to the Demise of STEM”.   In fact, it’s so popular it’s only available to the best and the brightest students in their second year of study.  They’re called the Super Twos.