"Sacrifices must be made...

...but not by us."

CEOs of Exxon, Conoco, Chevron & BP to US Senate (& the rest of us)

The sublime & the incredible

Considering that I’ve spent the last two days in a place where there is no discernible organization, much less a neat one, I’m sharing this with you.

I’d much rather contemplate these examples of thoughtful design than think about being on the phone with tech support for more than two hours today to get network access, an email account & a communications/collaboration tool account…and still don’t have a phone number.

And I’m not even going to talk about ploughing through the corporate product management process site only to be told at 1645 that there’s another, newer, process that has superseded it. And that my manager’s manager didn’t know about it.

Red flags in the sunset

Yesterday I started a contract product manager job at a major networking company. Well, kinda.

From the beginning there have been red flags all around this gig. For one thing, I could never get a consistent story out of the recruiter for the job shop. She’s very bluff and hearty, but straightforward? Not so much.

At first the rate was stated at $X/hour. (And “first” was more than a month ago.) Then, oh, gee, since this is a replacement position, the Client can only pay $X-9%. When I (reluctantly) said I would consider that, she blurbled on about how she told Client that I’d take it on if there was a long-term commitment. At the same time she assured me that Client’s contracts are frequently extended again and again.

Like working without benefits is such a plus that doing it for a longer rather than a shorter period of time is greatly to be desired.

Well, every time I asked for information about the job, the previous contractor (who apparently left suddenly, although I still don’t know whether he jumped or was pushed), the group, the people in the group, even what the products are—every time she just didn’t know. and their on-site rep, who’s embedded with this Client group, never seemed to return her alleged calls. He certainly never called me.

So at every step in the (long, seriously drawn-out) process I was operating in the information darkness, which I do not like. MWD, the recruiter, kept telling me I could get any data I needed from the Client people I spoke with. Red flag number one.

My phone interview with the alleged hiring manager lasted a hair over 30 minutes. Not once did he ask me anything about my CV, my experience, my history. It was all me asking him for information about the work, the group, etc. Huge red flag number two.

Then it took more than a week to talk with the next person, who turned out to be Interviewer #1’s manager (even though MWD had assured me that I#1 is the decision maker). He did ask me a couple of questions about my experience, but most of the time was spent in me asking things the recruiter should have already given me. It seems there are three product lines covered in this group; at the time of interview number two it still wasn’t clear to me which one or ones they wanted me to work on.

Actually, it was clear that they didn’t know which one they wanted me to work on—when I asked, Interviewer #2 said, “We’re going to have to talk about that.”

Uh, yeah; you do that. Red flag number three.

I#2 said he wanted me to speak with another team member and also to attend an all-day team meeting the following (last) week. The next day, however, I received a meeting invitation via the job shop’s onsite coordinator for a face-to-face with I#2 the day before the team meeting time.

I spoke with MWD to see if, at last, she knew what was going on. She said I#2 wanted to hire me (so much for I#1 being the decision maker), but wanted me to speak with this other person first.

Interestingly, Interviewer #3, whom I met in person (the other two are on the East Coast) two weeks ago, spent the most time with me, asked me the most penetrating (not to say suspicious) questions and gave me the very strong impression that she was the hiring manager, or that at the very least I’d be reporting to her and working on Product B (as we’ll call it). Minor red flag number four.

Well, between the time I set up Interview #3 and actually had it, I was contacted by a recruiter for a different job shop for another contract job with a major Internet company. This contract pays 33% more per hour than the one with the network giant. And when I said, sure, go ahead and submit my CV (I’m not even going to talk about how little this recruiter knew about the job, or the description, which consisted of five bullet points), within an hour she’d called back to say the hiring manager wanted to speak with me the next afternoon.

That interview went well, but the HM had expressed himself surprised to be “inundated with résumés”, and was going to be interviewing for a while. (I wasn’t surprised, as I’d been contacted by two more job shops for this position.)

Then there was a flurry of calls from MWD kvelling that we had an offer for this job! I told her about the other possibility and asked what flexibility Client could give with the rate, considering there’s a 33% delta. You could hear the spin coming from her in the background. She said she knew about the Internet job (but hadn’t submitted me for it, because “mobile” was mentioned in it), so she knew I wasn’t slinging bull about the rate. But she tried telling me how Internet Client takes forever to start the interview process, etc.

That stopped when I said I’d already had the first interview.

The following day she called to say that Client can’t do anything about the rate until their new fiscal year (three months hence); but that they also have budget for three FTE positions…in Q3 of next year. (In the same conversation she again referred back to the opportunity to have an endless contract, as well. She really can’t decide which crap to extrude.)

I asked for a copy of the contract to review. To me the key clause is the at-will stipulation: Client, Job Shop or Employee can at any time and for any or no reason terminate the contract. That means that as soon as something better comes along, I can thank them and leave. Which suits my purposes just fine.

Especially given the fact that this gig has more red flags flying than Red Square on May Day.

When I told MWD that I’d accept the offer she was so excited that she actually said to me, “I know you’ll be getting a lower rate than [the Internet job], but you’ll be able to make up for it by working more hours, so it’ll come out even in the end.”

No, I am not making that up. Just to make the Internet Client 40-hour weekly pay I’d have to log in 53 hours on this job. Not that Internet Client would be only 40 hours, either. But I’m wondering why MWD would want someone so stupid as to swallow that logic & be happy at the idea of working 33% longer to get the same amount of money.

Red flag number five.

Speaking of which—I met with Interviewer #1 and Interviewer #2 last Tuesday (my official start date). I#2 told me then that I wouldn’t be working on Product B, after all. It turns out, he said, that he’s got funding for Product A, and while Product B really needs staffing, I’ll have to work on A. A completely different product, in a completely different development cycle, with completely different customers. That’s okay, right?

Red flag number six. It makes me very uneasy that they don’t seem to know what they’re doing, where the money’s coming from or how they can use it. And that this didn’t come up until after I’d signed the contract.

(And, BTW, since I wouldn’t be involved with Product B, I didn’t need to go to the all-day team meeting the next day, for which I’d cleared my schedule. I guess they won’t be my team?)


Oh, and Interviewer #2 asked me, "When are you planning on starting?" Uh, I'd planned on starting the next day, and my contract actually said it started the moment we were talking. You would not believe the looks of utter, vacant astonishment on these two guys' faces. Oh. Well. I#1 would have to, um, see about finding me space. And a laptop. And, you know, stuff.


Red flag number seven.

Well, this stuff just never stops: I showed up today to get my badge and then receive my laptop and network access. Only the clapped-out laptop they had for me (seriously, the screen has craters) wasn’t working right. And when we finally got that going my network password wouldn’t work.

Seems that the password was issued on the 5^th and had already expired. And IT wouldn’t reset it for me, my manager had to request a new one.

Oh, they added, and once I do get in, it’ll take 72 hours to propagate through the network. Meaning that I’ll have limited access to various systems. Email apparently being one of them. I have to request everything—nothing’s been set up for me. Not even a phone; I had to call IT to order a phone number and an actual phone. But since it has to be approved by my manager there’s no telling when I’ll be able to tell people how to reach me.

The job shop on-site coordinator (whose greatest area of expertise seems to be sending snotograms) warned me that it could be more than a week before I’m actually connected to everything necessary to do my job. And I have to initiate it all. Which is hysterical because, how am I supposed to know what all I’ll need so I can ask for it?

Gigantic garrison-sized red freaking flag number eight.

So, I’ll do my best to figure out what I’m supposed to be doing, what tools I need, how to get them and make what contribution I can. Meanwhile, I’m continuing to look for work with an organization that, well, that seems to know what it’s doing, has ideas about how I can help and is willing make me a full team member—including compensation in line with my value.

Special op in Abbottabad 3

On reflection, I may have been way harsh in my reaction to the comments of the Prime Minister and Foreign Secretary of Pakistan on the raid by US Navy SEALS on Osama Bin Laden’s compound the night of 1 May. You remember—they said it wasn’t their fault they couldn’t find Bin Laden, it was an intelligence failure of truly global proportions.

But I’m thinking I shouldn’t have accused them of being disingenuous.

I mean—we did penetrate their air space, crash a helicopter and blow it up, spent 20-40 minutes shooting up OBL’s posse and got out without the Pakistani military apparently noticing. Our government had to tell their government after the fact what had happened.

(Moreover, apparently no one in their government is on Twitter, or they’d have known about it before Hillary made the call.)

Their intelligence agency really is crap.

And, bless their hearts, once they’ve been caught looking like the village schmendricks, what are they going to say—“Jeez, we really screwed the pooch here, and as soon as we get our heads out of our intestinal tracts we’re going to take measures to ensure this sort of thing doesn’t happen again”?

No government in the history of the world ever said that. From the Macedonian Empire to the Bakersfield city council. They never admit to making mistakes. It’s their job to never admit to making mistakes.

So I probably shouldn’t have come down so hard on their reaction, which was entirely natural and predictable, given that they were trying to spin a really challenging situation in which they were shown to be inept slackers in the intelligence department—any way you look at it.

My bad.