Lead by avoiding fake news: case study

Our product is a pearl

A scathing article appeared in a high brow online technical journal claimed that our newest product, "was released pre maturely in an embryonic stage. Users are flabbergasted by the number of useless features which appear to be totally unrelated to business needs. Luckily, 12 software engineers and 2 orderly Swiss bots have defected from the engineering team under the leadership of the bizarre Comrade Carl Marks, in order to work for clients who purchased this so called product".

Our CEO Stan had read the article at dawn; at breakfast Wifey had printed the article and told Stan to "read this before you eat your porridge". Stan lost his appetite only to come to work all the more flustered.

                          

The article was the first issue on our agenda in the senior management meeting held this morning. "What do you have to say about this, Comrade Carl? You ensured me that the product is a pearl. And what about you, Gloria? Defection is in the realm of HR, for Christ's sake. Speak up, or I will fire you both. Trump is no fool".

Comrade Carl, cool as a Danish cucumber on a dark December morning, said, "Spasiba and thank you-I only scanned the article because I avoid false news. However, let's look at cause and effect by examining the role of HR in the defection scandal. In East Germany, the Staatssicherheitsdienst ....."

Ja

CEO Stan interrupted and told Carl to "avoid using long German words".

But the Comrade continued "unabated" which is a nice word.  "In East Germany, the state police knew everything about everyone: their comings and goings, the food that they ate, their political opinions and even their sex lives. Our HR department doesn't know Jack Shit about anyone. Therefore, our ranks are more permeated with traitors than the American government by Russian spies. It's time for Gloria from HR to stop being such a liberal Canadian. We need kompromat (компромат)about our nerds, not HR data analytics."

Then Comrade Carl looked at me and said, "take it from here Baby".

I remember that my Dad Pierre Elliot Ramsbottom used to talk about spying a lot at the dinner table. Dad used to say that British intelligence is totally infiltrated by the Russians and that the East Germans have a listening device up everyone's ass. My mother used to say to Dad, "Pierre Elliot watch your tongue. You forget that our dainty young daughter is impressionable."

Impressionable

Managing clients by Rumours

Fuck the data on the dashboard, kibinimat

On May 1st, the entire engineering team including the Artificial Intelligence-Bot Group was  convened by the Chief Technologist Comrade Carl Marks for the lecture of the month. The lecture was given under the benevolent auspices of HR talent management, which is a subject under my imperial wing.

Comrade Carl invited me to join him on the podium, which I turned down because I have been busy texting my sister and mom and someone else; please no questions at this stage.

Comrade Carl opened his lecture by asking the crowd to applaud until "our beloved HR manager takes a bow", which I did in line with my core values of seeking recognition.

Comrade Carl told his people, "please turn off your phones, or at least pretend to. We need to act civilized. This is the USA, although none of you comrades have a green card".

Carl lectured about our new clients in North Korea  and Venezuela who have commissioned new products and plan to pay us by barter or by sending us cotton T shirts. Carl said that "if you read the specs the client sent us, it is not unnatural that you have some questions. However, there is no need for alarm because we are scrapping all the data driven development tools that "HR rammed up our ass" and replacing it with rumour-driven specs."

One of our more opinionated nerds, Comrade Igor Berdichenko-Itkovitz, asked "Tovarish Carl, what do you mean"?

Comrade Carl told Igor to sit down and shut up until the lecture is over and then "I will field your questions".

Carl ended up his lecture by asking developers to spread rumours to the clients that "Kim  and/or Maduro want this and that", this and that being based on our capabilities.

The nerds jumped to their feet and started to scream: "We love you Comrade Carl" and ""Death of Data" and "Gloria Go Home".

Sometimes I wish I was a torera, a hairdresser or the owner of a quiet lake by the warm and sunny sea. 

Taking up a job teaching HR at Oxford

Some snobbish readers may be surprised that I am considering take up a post at Oxford to teach for a year as a resident HR business partner. I would suspect that many Brits would think "what would Oxford ever want from that brainless twat?"  That is narrow minded, if you ask me.

Oxford, along with McGill, Swinburne and Secretary Academy of Montreal, are great schools that my Dad wanted me to attend; he applied a lot of pressure on me, When I was in grade one, my Mom Constance told my Dad, "Pierre Elliot, Gloria should be a hairdresser; not everyone needs to go to Oxford. Stop pushing  her to over-perform."

One thing led to another and as readers of this blog know, I reached the pinnacle of HR, specializing in each and every aspect of HR, zenga zenga.
And unlike Prince Philip who was born in Greece, I am not ready to retire. I feel that it's time to teach others what I know best-sloganeering, data mining, positioning, conniving, sycophancy and change management with an emphasis on execution via feigned compassion.

So, yes, Oxford, were you to finalize your generous offer, I'm on my way.

(Please pay me in any currency except British pounds; I fly premium economy and check in 6 bags).