The new system went live at 9:03.
The Loudspeaker clicked on.
“Attention all employees.”
Its voice was calm, warm and completely certain; the sort of voice that could announce a minor catastrophe without interrupting breakfast.
“Management is pleased to report that Home Office has confirmed the goal is now 112 percent.”
A pause.
“The Plan is working.”
“Communications will give you the details.”
A longer pause.
“That is all.”
The speaker clicked off.
June ran Corporate Communications. Her version of business chic was disheveled, with Dr. Martens underneath. Home Office had assigned her to explain the new goal. It had not explained the goal to her. This was considered a normal handoff.
She was part counselor, part Home Office ghost whisperer. People came to her with concerns. Home Office came to her in phrases. She tried to get each to acknowledge the other.
Everyone turned to June.
June held her folder under her arm and looked back at them.
"Carry on."
"The work hasn't changed," she added. "If something needs explaining, bring it to me."
The people from the mustard line went back to their stations.
Nothing had changed except the number.
The Plan had never been described.
This had not prevented Home Office from raising it.
Calvin stood beneath the monitor in a tan blazer, tie and khakis, tablet against his chest. Nobody was entirely sure what Calvin did. He attended meetings, carried the tablet and appeared wherever a number needed announcing. His brown shoes were still optimistic about the floor. He had dressed for a plan with an explanation. His hair had received less specific instructions.
“One hundred twelve percent. The new goal.”
Someone asked, "What is the hundred twelve measuring?"
He looked for a smaller line beneath the number. There wasn't one.
"The goal."
"The goal of what?"
Calvin opened the Plan. Then closed it.
"We're in the Plan."
"Where in the Plan?"
He checked the tablet again.
"It says we're in it."
When I was a kitten, Mortimer used to walk the floor empty-handed. He asked questions. That was how he found out what was going on. One afternoon, Mortimer stopped beside a loaded cart being pushed rapidly across the plant.
The man pushing it was working hard.
Mortimer watched him pass.
“Where are you going?”
The man gave him a long answer.
Schedules. Instructions. Deadlines. A plan with another name.
Mortimer listened.
“Where does it need to end up?”
The cart stopped.
So did the answer.
Mortimer waited.
“Plans require several things. Mostly, they require somewhere to get to.”
He took a few steps.
Then stopped once more.
“Motion does not equal progress.”
The plant had a goal of 112 percent. The system was not done reporting.
Back at the monitor, Calvin watched the bar climb under its label: PROGRESS.
Ninety-seven.
Ninety-eight.
Ninety-nine.
Beside it, the screen labeled RESULTS stayed dark.
Calvin tapped the screen, hoping the number might open into an explanation. It didn't.
We all waited and watched as the bar filled completely and turned green.
A checkmark appeared. Calvin straightened.
“One hundred percent complete.”
Someone raised a hand.
“I thought the goal was 112.”
“It is,” Calvin said.
Nobody said anything.
"This is the system's 100."
He waited for either screen to help.
Neither did.
Beside the green bar, the dark screen lit up.
ACHIEVED!
Calvin read the word aloud. Then he raised his arm.
"We're winning!"
Whatever had happened had finished happening.
Selden stood behind the group in his teal work clothes and scuffed boots, weight settled on one foot. He looked at Calvin.
Then the green bar.
Then the word ACHIEVED.
He stepped closer.
“What did it make?”
Nobody answered. That’s Selden. A few weeks here and still asking what the work is for.
The bar remained at 100 percent.
Calvin looked at it.
Then at Selden.
Then back at it.
The system had run.
It had finished.
“We hit the goal,” Calvin declared, grinning at June.
June looked at ACHIEVED! and let one corner of her mouth do the celebrating.
“We did indeed hit what the system was counting.”
"Is that the same thing?" Selden asked.
Everyone stared at the screens in awkward silence.
Nothing else appeared.
I turned away from the screens.
Winning what?
By lunch, everyone had gone back to work.
The goal was still 112 percent.
The screen still said ACHIEVED!
Everyone else was working exactly as hard as before.
Apparently winning had not reached the floor.
“What now?” Selden asked.
Carry on.
FOOTNOTE ², in full.
Notes
This issue's closing question was sparked by an exchange with Thinking Through Economics about the cost of breaking a streak, even when the streak has stopped serving the work.
‽
Brad E. Bailey · brad@theinterrobang.net · SimpleX Chat
The Academy keeps its records here: Academy records
FOOTNOTE ACADEMY · MODULE 2: DEFINE PROGRESS
The goal exists. The bar moves. The result gets a word in capitals. Calvin still cannot say what changed. June has been assigned to explain it.
Module 2: Define Progress. Three questions. About three minutes. Completion is recorded. Understanding is optional. Enrollment already processed.
You are already enrolled. Module 2 opens with this issue. Three questions, no login. Tuition: none. Accreditation: none.
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Which measure at your work has a number but no purpose‽
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THIS WEEK AT THE INTERROBANG - Week 2: The Hundred Percent
One truth: the goal was 112 percent, the system said 100. Four angles on it:
The Strip - FOOTNOTE ²: The Progress Bar. The story itself. You are reading it.
The Brief, Thu - The Meter Is Running. The professional take: what to do when your dashboard celebrates early. Thursday Oct 15.
The Fine Print - none this week.
You are reading: The Strip ‽