I was having I guess a new version of nightmares last night–really anxiety dreams–where I was in some new happy place, with smiling managers, everybody dressed really well, and me miraculously somehow in a roughly fitting, somewhat rumpled but acceptable suit. I was supposed to be selling something to somebody, after all the pep talks. They gave me some list to start making calls, and I was supposed to know somebody, since they mapped my social network for me, but I had no clue who this person was, and made the mistake of asking them, and was starting to see frowns.
Corporate America really can be an odd place. To play politics well, you kind of need to focus on it, and forget your core self. You have to be who your bosses seem to think you need to be. You have to perform, of course–something in my experience in most cases of outside sales means making selling something close to your real religion, something which intrudes into everything you do, such that church is a place to meet new contacts, golf something you use to close the sale, and vacations something you plan to use as an item of relating to clients–but you need to kiss up to the right people, too. You need to be the right “sort” of person, the sort who never really makes any waves, who goes along to get along.
Two anecdotes:
1) I was sitting on a conference call a few months ago–something I avoid gymnastically and generally successfully–and was the first one to arrive. I was on time, which meant everyone else was late, which I assume most of them looked forward to it as much as me. Anyway, I asked the gal running it how the weather was. She told me, then when the next person got on she said “Oh, we’re doing this fun team building exercise. How is the weather there?” The vibe I actually got from her was that corporate life had traumatized her, and she probably knew it. 40+ hours a week of conference calls will do that to you.
2) I and a couple other sales reps were socializing with this woman who worked for a Very Large Company (VLG), and one of them made some inappropriate joke about sleeping with clients, and she just smiled without batting an eye and said “I’m always willing to take one for the team.” It was so extraordinarily unoffended I actually, honestly wondered if she WOULD be willing to do that. It was a very weird vibe. According to stories I hear, there ARE women who will sleep with clients to get the contract. Imagine that. They are paid, but the process makes them into literal whores.
Anyway, I think the underlying energy is anxiety. I’ve gotten through the hard trauma–the screaming and shaking–by and large, but what is left is years and years of feeling out of place, scared, and anxious.
And to the title of this post, I think being forced to live like this has political effects. Can you imagine the pressure of being a Trump supporter anywhere in Silicon Valley? Or most of the West Coast? If the corporate culture is already cult-like, how expanded and powerful must be the compulsion to conform at least publicly?