Learning To Live With Downsizing

VIRTUAL COVE’S STORY

"Let me start at the beginning," Harry said, as they selected a spot at a picnic table next to a gurgling creek. "I came to Virtual Cove about 15 years ago." A grin stretched across the tanned rubber mask, still flushed from the chase. "In fact, I arrived in a similar fashion as yourself. "You see, I was a lieutenant in the Army, assigned to lead a team of computer experts on a Superhighway project. Twenty years ago, we were just starting to get a handle on what resources could be harnessed to design a huge linkage of data. Of course, our first goal was to focus on national security issues. But to those of us with interest and vision, applications for this technology on the civilian side also were apparent.

"One afternoon, I was on leave after working nonstop for a full two weeks. Our project, which was highly confidential, was focused on developing the technology to transport objects, from coffee cups to tanks, from one location to another. The military saw a lot of applications for this ‘transport technology’ to earth maneuvers as well as outerspace missions. I liked what I was doing, but I was personally more interested in transporting people from one spot to another. I had gone so far as to rig up this really crude machine in my apartment and was experimenting with expanding the technology in my free time, when it happened. One afternoon, using my special machine, I locked in on a destination. To my surprise and delight, seconds later I found myself in Virtual Cove."

Stephanie studied his pleasant face and watched as the animated mask twisted itself into an expression of excitement ‘Wow!’ he suddenly exclaimed, jumping up from the table. "I felt like I hit the jackpot!"

"Back then, this was a bustling center for creative cyberspace entrepreneurs from all over the universe," he went on, sinking back into his seat. "Everywhere you went, you met people with creative ideas, people willing to take a chance on something new in an effort to contribute to the advancement of technology. Some of them were even working on the Superhighway. Workers in organizations were not only motivated, they were actually passionate about their work."

"After a few days of the best kind of virtual reality game I could ever imagine, I decided I didn’t want to go back. I found a way to have my cake and eat it too. I could still do the work I was interested in, but do it from a totally new living environment. So I stayed," he sighed.

"As you will see, there are many different types of people here in Virtual Cove, so they are very accepting of people from other places. But some things have changed, and I miss those things. People here seemed to be interested in good ideas, no matter where you came from. Now," Harry paused, studying Stephanie’s face. "Now that’s changed."

"Changed’?" Stephanie asked.

The warm Spring sun, which had emerged to burn the haze from the sky, was settling into the tops of the trees for the afternoon. Harry looked at Stephanie, his face dappled by light filtered through leaves. "It’s a sad story," he finally replied.

"Go ahead," she urged.

"Well. Okay. What happened was this: Because companies here were doing so well financially, they were able to offer great benefits and wages to their employees, and everyone got along as one big family. I can remember having terrific summer picnics, right here at this park. The company would sponsor baseball games, pitting one department against another, and there was always a lot of delicious food. The workers who did arts and crafts would set up a tent to hawk their wares. You wouldn’t believe the variety of arts that were brought here from the different cultures these people came from. Always, there were clowns, and storytellers, and the latest in virtual games. There were even ice-cream eating contests for the kids. It was great fun and a wonderful time."

"But those were different times. We really felt secure with our jobs and couldn’t imagine the trouble we were setting ourselves up for as we cultivated what turned out to be a false sense of hope and security. We never thought about leaving our companies, or this site. We saw ourselves working hard at what we believed in even as we were rewarded with good wages, benefits, training, promotions and annual raises. We knew we would receive future rewards - what we used to call "retirement" back on Earth. Most likely a party would be given in our honor, at which our contributions would be vigorously praised. We fondly imagined that the lazy days of our retirement would have us periodically stopping back to visit with the new workers and check on how they were doing without us.
And as funny as it appears now, we actually felt the company encouraged the retired to do this, just to sort of maintain the family connections."

As Harry spoke, Stephanie observed a marked change in his demeanor. He slumped in his seat. He dropped his head. The wonderful rubber mask had taken on a worried look, as though he were about to disclose something that should be of great concern.

"What is it?" she asked, curious.

"Things began to change," he mumbled. "It was subtle at first, but it grew like a virus."

"But what happened?" Stephanie implored, leaning closer. "It sounds like this was a thriving city. What could change that?"

Harry looked wistful. Glancing down at his hands, fingers working, he replied, "The Internet. That’s what happened. The very thing we were working so hard to build ruined us. We were too busy and too full of our success to see it coming. And now we’re stuck and can’t seem to move forward".

Now Stephanie was even more curious. "How did the Internet create a problem?"

Harry sighed. "As I told you, many companies were doing well. Some of them made a fortune supplying the world with software, knowledge, and creative ideas about how the Internet would unite us in ways we never dreamt of," he said. "These organizations were very involved with cutting-edge ideas about how to put all kinds of information at our fingertips - communication without wires, travel without planes, entertainment opportunities so futuristic that Hollywood hadn’t thought of them yet. The kinds of things we worked on would change the way we lived and worked forever, no matter what planet or corner of cyberspace we occupied.

What our business community didn’t count on was the competition that would come from other business communities, in other galaxies. We underestimated how the changing technology, even some that we were promoting, would affect our own industry. We didn’t foresee the impact of what you on earth call "globalization," how the shift of jobs within the universe would impair our ability to compete."

"Slowly," he continued, "we saw our market share dwindle and our profit margin shrink. By this time, I had my own firm and was responsible for the lives and careers of more than 3,000 workers. We weren’t sure what was happening, but we knew we wanted to proceed cautiously and not overreact. We were reluctant to take action. We were sure this was just a blip on the cosmic screen and that our business volume would again be restored to previous levels."

Harry gazed into the creek, watching but not really seeing water that tumbled over stones and threaded its way among cattails standing like sentinels in the overgrowth. "I guess, looking back on it, we were in some kind of denial," he mused. "We didn’t want to admit that our business strategies may not have been as visionary as they should have been. We didn’t want to face the fact that we had created a culture in which all of our workers now relied on us to dictate their every move. Some of us had corporate cultures that encouraged workers to think outside the box, but even then, we selfishly discouraged the transference of this thinking to themselves, their careers and their families. We orchestrated their compensation and recognition to get them to buy into our values and the behaviors we were looking for. We unwittingly developed strategies that gradually robbed them of the values they personally cherished.

"I don’t know," he said, sounding exhausted, "perhaps we couldn’t admit failure. We just denied there was a problem and tried to go on with business as usual. We didn’t make any shifts in strategies. We didn’t communicate with our employees. We continued to market the same way, we continued to hire more employees, we didn’t evaluate different market segments, or determine whether we should stay in the ones we were already in. Eventually, we would pay for this with our culture, employee trust and customer satisfaction.

"Then, without much warning, we saw our strategies - those which up until now had positioned us to be the front-runner, the one on the leading edge - turn sour. Our financial success was eroding. With loss of market, and competitors looming on the horizon, we found ourselves overstaffed and with greater expenses than we could afford. In a frantic attempt to compensate for our lack of vision, we made some quick decisions that ultimately made things worse."

"For some reason, the decision to downsize did not play out the way we thought it would. We haven’t been able to achieve our performance and profitability goals. In fact, our competitiveness and efficiency is lower now than it was before the downsizing."

Harry glanced at the watch that he had pulled from his shirt pocket. It was on a chain, like an old-fashioned pocket watch, but Stephanie saw the face was anything but. The hour hand was a bright laser-type light that blinked while the minute hand was created by the mist of a space ship traveling around the dial.

He had been speaking for more than two hours. "Would you like to grab lunch?" he asked.

The pair walked through the park toward Harry’s office, and Stephanie confessed that she was worried about getting home. I can help you with that, he assured her. I know how. "By tonight, you’ll be back in your home without a problem," he said smiling.

Stephanie was relieved, and marveled that she actually trusted this stranger who just a short time ago had terrified her. In fact, if she was really honest, she was beginning to enjoy herself.

As they drew closer to the headquarters for Harry’s company, Stephanie noticed a giant advertisement that hung, magically suspended from the sky. "The only card you need - Virtual Travel Card," it read.

When they entered the lobby, Stephanie stopped dead in her tracks and gasped at what could only be the set of a sci-fi movie. Several columns rendered in assorted geometric shapes and randomly placed around an expanse of room appeared to support nothing. The walls, dressed up in wild shades of pink and orange, glittered as though painted with moon dust. The sun cast its light through large windows situated in the ceiling skylights, but tinged with colors that reminded Stephanie of butter mints. She was awestruck, a first-time-tourist to the big city.

Harry gave her a minute to take it all in before he spoke. "The reason I’m certain you’ll safely return to your home in Atlanta is because my company was the first to develop the technology that allows people to really explore virtual reality. With our specially coated travel card and software, you can relive situations not unlike those in your movie Back To The Future, but with considerably less hassle."

They stopped at the security desk to pick up a visitor’s badge for Stephanie. As she waited, she could not help but notice the employees stationed there. Two women, seated at a spherical silver work station that reminded Stephanie of a UFO, seemed anything but happy, friendly or even particularly interested in their work. Their motions were automatic, almost robotic; their voices, when they spoke at all, were listless monotones. Not that Stephanie had occasion to hear much more than "Sign the register, please." Nobody asked where she was from, or even greeted her. They seemed to just be biding their time.

Harry ushered Stephanie into the cafeteria where, as she would have expected, the layout and design mirrored that of the lobby. The irony of a fun, creative work environment utilized by low-spirited, apathetic employees was not lost on her - something was seriously wrong.

Stephanie was hungry. The wonderful aroma of various foods almost was evidence enough that this cafeteria fare was fresh and prepared on the premises, but she wasn’t going to bet on it - it was too high-tech to be believable. She and Harry placed their orders with roving robots that shuffled to and from the kitchen, and her eyes wandered the room, taking in yet more lifeless employees sitting at flat chrome tables.

Settling in at a table in the corner and waiting for Harry, who had asked permission to check his messages, she overheard a disturbing conversation taking place. It was coming from the direction of the next table, where two women, one younger, one graying and matronly, and a young man, probably in his mid-thirties, sat.

"It’s only noon," the younger woman complained. "I just dread coming in here, and once I’m here, it seems like time just stops and I’ll never end my shift."

"Did you see the latest memo?" interjected the man. "They want us to get involved with the new "create-a-product" campaign. Yeah, like I’d step up and offer my ideas about a new product. That way, if they didn’t like it, they could put my name on the list for the next round of layoffs. Why would anyone want to take the risk?"

"Speaking of layoffs," chirped the matron, "have you heard the latest from the vine? They say there’s been a lot of activity up on the top floor -lots of closed doors, folks not seeing their managers in days - and they’re saying another round of layoffs is coming as early as next month. I’ve been lucky, if you can say that, to have survived the five cuts we’ve already been through," she continued. "I’m scared I won’t survive this round, though. " Her voice was tearful. "I’ve no idea how I’ll make ends meet if I have to leave. I’ve been here 15 years and I dread looking for a new job. Who’s going to want someone my age? I’m worried I might lose my home, and here my kid is studying at the university. How will I manage that expense? Not to mention that I’ll lose my medical coverage and benefits."

As Stephanie awaited Harry’s return, she again surveyed the room. Clearly, what was happening to Virtual Travel was very similar to, if not the same as, what had happened to her company in Atlanta. She had seen the same unmotivated behavior. She had heard the same kind of remarks underscored by fear.

The dilemma intrigued her. It also gave her leverage. What if she and Harry could swap information about organization development in the aftermath of downsizing? In exchange for what she knew and would share, he would be sure to make good on his promise to return her to her home.

When Harry finally arrived, he was visibly upset. One of his workers at a plant outside of town had to be restrained by armed security officers after he arrived at work, armed with a laser gun. Harry had never had to deal with a situation like this. What, if anything, should he do about the stress and anxiety his employees were feeling? He pondered the situation aloud.

"Why aren’t these workers doing something to prepare themselves for the future instead of resisting the inevitable?" he asked. Then, not waiting for a reply: "Why can’t they accept that things are never going to be the same as they were before? What am I supposed to do - meet with every single employee and hold his or her hand while each charts a course for the new culture?"

Stephanie didn’t respond. She sat and listened while Harry voiced frustrations that seemed to have been suppressed for some time. "I don’t know what’s come over me," he concluded helplessly.

"That’s okay," she assured him. "It sounds like you needed to get all that out in the open."
A pause. And then: "Now that it’s out, can I ask you a few questions?"