Thursday, June 09, 2005
Suggestion Boxes
At a typical office one day, management, or a specially-formed committee of a non-discriminatory cross-section of office staff meet one afternoon, tip the contents of a suggestion box out onto a table and pick through each piece of paper, evaluating any great ideas and canning the rest. During this process various bad jokes would be made, but everyone would take the exercise seriously enough.
I think if I was a manager, I doubt I’d want to hear how improvements can be made to the workplace that I am supposedly in charge of.
Instead of doing what my job description requires, I’d just walk from cubicle to cubicle, talking business jargon and at all other times sleep under my desk while a sign emblazons my very closed door entitled:
“Parallel-System-Process (PSP) meeting on, please do not disturb under any circumstances.”
Thus I think I’d casually look over these suggestions in the time it takes me to drink a polystyrene cup of cold instant coffee, take them home and use them to start a fire on a cold winter’s night.
If it were summer, I’d donate them to a homeless person.
Upon reading them, said homeless citizen could be slightly confused when a piece of paper handed to them reads:
“I haven’t wanted to say anything as I never like to cause a fuss, but I think the photocopier needs a service.”
Or another well-intentioned suggestion may read,
“Dear sir, I think your water cooler needs to be refilled a little more frequently.”
Upon reading this, the homeless person may then go into a state of confusion, and may not be able to fathom how their non-existent water cooler could run out so quickly. I can only begin to imagine how our homeless person’s mind would be weighed down by the process of trying to fit into their non-existent budget any repair work that their photocopier may need.
Whichever way one looks at it, they are suggestions for improvement, and maybe if they were thoughtfully noted and acted upon, the homeless person may finally be able to enlarge an A4-sized page to A3 on a photocopier that actually doesn’t exist. His life will be changed forever - for the better. He would become the respected manager of his office.
A suggestion box doesn’t have to be reserved solely for workplace however. I think everyone needs a suggestion box in which their friends, colleagues, family, or even just a passer-by can drop in some well-intentioned comments on how this person can improve themselves.
It could come in the form of a backpack, with a pen hanging off a string and a pad securely fastened to the outside, so people can conveniently scribble down a suggestion and then drop through the jaws of improvement.
At the end of a day, just before they go to bed, the person can take the suggestion backpack off, unzip it, and gloss over the days suggestions. It could be just the thing the person needs to turn their life around, and find that secret for success for a productive and fulfilling life.
They may at some point during the day think, “Why is it that I never seem to meet any gorgeous ladies even if I’m a totally hot piece of man-meat?”
Their question could finally be answered one night while they eagerly read through their suggestions with one that may be read something along the lines of:
“Get a haircut, you look like a twat.”
Life-changing stuff, that.
I think if I was a manager, I doubt I’d want to hear how improvements can be made to the workplace that I am supposedly in charge of.
Instead of doing what my job description requires, I’d just walk from cubicle to cubicle, talking business jargon and at all other times sleep under my desk while a sign emblazons my very closed door entitled:
“Parallel-System-Process (PSP) meeting on, please do not disturb under any circumstances.”
Thus I think I’d casually look over these suggestions in the time it takes me to drink a polystyrene cup of cold instant coffee, take them home and use them to start a fire on a cold winter’s night.
If it were summer, I’d donate them to a homeless person.
Upon reading them, said homeless citizen could be slightly confused when a piece of paper handed to them reads:
“I haven’t wanted to say anything as I never like to cause a fuss, but I think the photocopier needs a service.”
Or another well-intentioned suggestion may read,
“Dear sir, I think your water cooler needs to be refilled a little more frequently.”
Upon reading this, the homeless person may then go into a state of confusion, and may not be able to fathom how their non-existent water cooler could run out so quickly. I can only begin to imagine how our homeless person’s mind would be weighed down by the process of trying to fit into their non-existent budget any repair work that their photocopier may need.
Whichever way one looks at it, they are suggestions for improvement, and maybe if they were thoughtfully noted and acted upon, the homeless person may finally be able to enlarge an A4-sized page to A3 on a photocopier that actually doesn’t exist. His life will be changed forever - for the better. He would become the respected manager of his office.
A suggestion box doesn’t have to be reserved solely for workplace however. I think everyone needs a suggestion box in which their friends, colleagues, family, or even just a passer-by can drop in some well-intentioned comments on how this person can improve themselves.
It could come in the form of a backpack, with a pen hanging off a string and a pad securely fastened to the outside, so people can conveniently scribble down a suggestion and then drop through the jaws of improvement.
At the end of a day, just before they go to bed, the person can take the suggestion backpack off, unzip it, and gloss over the days suggestions. It could be just the thing the person needs to turn their life around, and find that secret for success for a productive and fulfilling life.
They may at some point during the day think, “Why is it that I never seem to meet any gorgeous ladies even if I’m a totally hot piece of man-meat?”
Their question could finally be answered one night while they eagerly read through their suggestions with one that may be read something along the lines of:
“Get a haircut, you look like a twat.”
Life-changing stuff, that.
