The Walking Dead

Today I spoke with a Zombie.

They came into the office as usual, late and flustered. They cheerily said hello and set to work as they used to do while they were still alive.

But they weren’t. I know this because one who was complicit in the Zombie’s death stopped by to tell me the other day.

“Gonna have to get used to sitting alone in here for awhile,” they said – in an I-know-something kind of voice. I wasn’t even that surprised. The signs of corporate death begin long before the actual event – in the right proximity, these things are downright obvious.

And slow.

There is no good reason why a life altering decision like this should be dragged out, but CorpWorld has procedures that prolong beyond people’s capacity to keep their mouths shut. And so – we have Zombies.

In the preceding weeks, I was asked for my opinion on the Zombie by management. Twice.

I like the Zombie – and said so, they are genuinely likeable in all sorts of ways. But I also said that when confronted with interpersonal problems, they crafted personal solutions instead of professional ones. Tempting as it always is to go for the win, in CorpWorld you’re usually better off sorting out what is needed to get the task done. Forget ego, forget pride, forget even common sense. Do the job.

Grind out the work – and much will be permitted. Delay work, repeatedly, and you will be asked to explain yourself.

To any resident of CorpWorld, this is a sign.  Paperwork is wending its way towards the kill.

When things get that bad, it can be very difficult to keep your professional composure. Your value to the company is being questioned. They are asking you to do something that makes no sense. And it’s not like you’re the only problem here– how can they not see that? But while the Explain Yourself meeting is asking you a question – there is only one correct answer: “I see your point, and I will do what you ask.”

Anything less leads to corporate death.

I was out when the Zombie was asked to explain themselves. They did not keep their composure. There was a genuine scene and a good deal of yelling.

CorpWorld does not like yelling.

And so a likeable person transformed from co-worker to Zombie.

They will be told their fate in a few days, but as an increasing number of their co-workers learns the truth – and are summarily sworn to silence – mundane office interactions now occur on tenterhooks. We don’t ask for their input -  what’s the point? No one listens to their daily report-out or follows up on any questions they ask.

We wonder how much they know. We wonder if any change in behavior has made their fate blindingly obvious. We wonder what we would do in their place if we came to that realization.

What would you do?

While I’m sure there are lots of TV-inspired reactions – but the likeliest to me would be to feign ignorance and collect the paycheck for however long you had left. On the appointed day, you’d just be gone.

Behind me, the Zombie types and clicks away, occasionally making small talk and looking wearier than usual.

I go through the motions of a normal day - and they do the same.

And we’ll both do this until the appointed hour of their corporate death.