Reconnect, or Disconnect?

Duncan McNiel, the affable Director, gone. His PA, Amy, gone. So what happens to the team-building programme now? Sue, the Development Director and pupil master of us naive interns, was by now a very busy person as she had been given an extra job by the Commander – managing communications. She said the programme had to be “re-anchored” with the new director, Robert MacCawdor, and to keep her informed. “Catch you later” was her stock phrase when running away from you down the corridor in her frenetic busyness, always with a rictus smile on her face. She meant well but she was too busy, over-burdened, and stressed.

The “re-anchor” meeting with Robert MacCawdor did not go well. Of the team-building meetings that had gone before, he said with intense menace, even hatred, “What did we learn from this?” He was frank; he saw no point in the programme as the team was fine but he would tolerate it as it was what the Commander wanted. He instructed, May, his PA, to issue the necessary invites to his team-briefing sessions.

The message was loud and clear: the team is fine and don’t interfere. With his cold staring blue eyes, he communicated intense contempt for me. For the first time in my working life, I understood what theoreticians called coercive power. I felt fear.

The Three Watchers 

MacCawdor loved his big-windowed office on the top, executive, floor of St. Angela’s. It overlooked the city’s river where the University’s rowing team could be seen practising in the early mornings and, sometimes, late in the summer evenings. MacCawdor often gazed at that river and the rowers. It mesmerised him.

Alex McLeod, the first of three inherited lieutenants, was captain of that rowing team when he was an undergraduate, and he still socialised with the rowers, being an active alum. Blessed with a keen intellect, he was on top of his job and well-regarded, and connected. His colleague, Alistair Stewart, the second of the lieutenants, was bright, but not as bright as McLeod. His job, however, required a depth of technical expertise which meant he was very well networked with techies elsewhere. He was also well-respected by St. Angela’s clinicians as part of his job was to award development funds for their pet projects and to bail out their overspent budgets. He looked after the docs and they looked after him.

In contrast, Carl Roberts, the third of the lieutenants, was a quiet family man. He was diligent and hard-working, and clever at avoiding conflicts. He had a certain annoying Teflon quality about him.

MacCawdor disliked all of them. He saw them as threats. He asked to see copies of their diaries every Monday to check who they were meeting, what their priorities were, and whether they were meeting as a group down on their first floor corridor.

MacCawdor suspected game-playing in the diary submissions. He fretted about who they were seeing so he asked his trusted personal team to watch over the “boys”. May, his PA, watched over McLeod, the rower. Liz Fenway, his special projects person, watched over Stewart, the techie, and Jean Howell, also a special projects person, watched over Roberts, the Teflon man.

The three watchers, as they were known, met with MacCawdor for tea often to mull over their findings and inflated concerns. They saw ghosts when there were none.

The Vanishing Lieutenants

Astonishing. What was I in the middle of? My view that “team-building” was totally inadequate for this situation was confirmed when I attended a team-briefing meeting.

MacCawdor gave his shopping list of updates then, going round the table, everyone gave their’s, whether or not they had any to give.

The rower and the techie jokingly referred to these meetings as ‘prayer meetings’. Teflon man kept his head down. The three watchers sat to the side of the table and watched. This was not the atmosphere to build a team – what team?

I asked to see Sue. I asked to see the Prof. I asked to see the lieutenants for one-to-one diagnostic sessions. I was out of my depth. MacCawdor intensified his surveillance, and widened it to include me.

The rower, McLeod, vanished before our meeting took place. Sue told me he had “moved on.” Fed-up with the watchers, he apparently had a blazing row with MacCawdor and accused him of stabbing Duncan McNiel in the back and taking his job. As the dam burst, he laid into his watcher, May, who was known as the poisoner because she dripped poisonous rumours about people to ruin their reputation. MacCawdor exploded with rage and the rower walked out. En-route to the door, he pushed May’s computer onto the floor. The immense force ensured it shattered into bits.

The techie, Stewart, got lumbered with the rower’s job in addition to his own. He was very overloaded when I saw him, not least because he had spotted what looked like a non-authorised, possibly illegal, transfer of funds to a supplier. He was contemplating blowing the whistle. But to whom? As a result, he was certainly too busy to engage in any team-building activity.

Teflon man, Roberts, saw all and said nothing. He did not want to be involved in anything, especially team-building. He just wanted to be invisible and have no boats rocked. Meanwhile, the watchers kept watching and mulling over their findings with MacCawdor. It was increasingly frothy with their over-inflated concerns.

Enter Lady ‘M’

Drip, drip, drip.  The poisoner did her job. MacCawdor was on Stewart’s case. There were concerns about Stewart’s work. The fact that he was so overloaded was ignored. Drip, drip, drip. MacCawdor got the Commander’s permission to conduct an inquiry. Enter MacCawdor’s old pal, Lady M, as she was known. Drip, drip, drip.

Lady M took over Stewart’s office and job, opened his post, and found “facts” to twist. Drip, drip, drip. She produced a report for MacCawdor which no-one, not even Sue, was allowed to see. Stewart cracked-up under the pressure, his friends organised another job for him, and he broke the photocopier with a forceful kick on his way out. There were no leaving parties, no farewell speeches, and certainly no “remember us” presents.

Roberts went on long-term sick leave. The three lieutenants – gone. Lady M was given the combined job of McLeod and Stewart. The problem was she wasn’t qualified for either. MacCawdor didn’t care. Team-building – what team? 

Back to the Books

Sue was very busy but she shared my concerns. She asked for a paper. I took refuge, as a good intern, in the ever-present pile of books. I was stuck. I did not know what to do. And I was frightened because Lady M, the watchers and MacCawdor, knew I knew about the whistle-blowing issue. I called the Prof. for advice.

At that time, 35 years ago, there was little research on such dysfunctional behaviour. I wrote the paper for Sue as best I could and waited for her guidance. I was being hunted. I had nightmares. The drip, drip, drip was now directed at me. I felt fear.

Ever generous with his time, the Prof. listened and said, with all the authority he could muster, “get out of there.”

Come back next time for the finale of this sorry tale….

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.