Fuck you, company stand-ups.
Company-wide stand-ups: the corporate equivalent of a forced family dinner where everyone takes turns complimenting each other, ignoring the fact that Uncle Gregg is nine drinks in, slurring his words and debating immigration with a bowl of mashed potatoes.
Yeah, whatever Gregg, you suck.
In my experience, it’s always been the same. A group of people high-fiving each other and rubbing each over off. Not at the family dinner, obviously. That’d be super weird. And illegal.
Naw, I’m talking about the company stand-up.
Imagine a boat load of mutual ego-stroking while the company quietly circles the drain. Because, it’s not about reality - it’s about maintaining morale. "We’re doing great and amazing things, rizzler, no cap…" they say, as payroll quietly wonders if they can afford next month's salaries.
Fuck you, Brad.
And then there's Brad.
Today, Brad is getting a full-blown hero’s parade for creating a .env.php file to store environment variables - ignoring the minor detail that this is both unnecessary and potentially a security nightmare.
But no, let’s not mention that.
Instead, let's shower Brad with applause for achieving literally nothing when he could have simply pulled down a package.
Home-run Brad!
"Without Brad, we’d be lost!" they chant, as if he personally held the servers together with a combination of sheer willpower, major body odour and well-oiled beard hair.
Never mind the fact that if Brad lost both his hands to a food blender, the company would probably be better off. Actually, nah, even that would somehow turn into another round of corporate cheerleading:
“Brad lost his hands in a tragic food blender accident, but his resilience is truly inspiring! Let’s have a round of applause for Brad - don’t worry Brad, we don’t expect you to clap along, you’ve got no hands, my guy!”
And just like that, Brad ascends to corporate sainthood, his name etched into the annals of company lore alongside Janet from accounting, who once worked through a severe case of IBS to finish month-end reports.
The legend of Brad will be whispered in hushed, reverent tones in break rooms for years to come.
Fuck you, AJ.
Next up is AJ.
AJ is the golden boy of sales, the guy who promises the world, reels in big clients, and then leaves the tech team stranded up shit creek without so much as a paddle, let alone a raft.
“Oh yeah, no problem! We’ll integrate a fully AI-powered, blockchain-backed, quantum-computing chatbot that personalises user experiences in real-time and syncs seamlessly with every third-party API under the sun, and we’ll deliver it by next Friday, easy peasy!”
What do we hear is that Brad has single-handedly boosted profits by a staggering 5.6% this month.
The crowd goes wild.
AJ’s standing there at the monthly stand-up, fresh off a spray tan funded by his commission, lapping up the applause.
Meantime, the pale burnt-out developers (who, by the way, get about as much recognition as office furniture) are one more clap away from walking into the sea - fully aware that this project has about the same chance of success as a chocolate teapot.
The client will be demanding a refund in the near future.
Fuck you, record profits.
Oh, but wait - the big finale! The company just had its best quarter ever (thanks again, AJ)!
Record sales, exponential growth, blah blah blah. The execs are sat there with huge boners, throwing out buzzwords like “unprecedented success” and “limitless potential.”
And yet… where’s that success reflected? Not in the staff’ wages, that’s for sure. Raises? Nah. Bonuses? Don’t be ridiculous. But hey, there’s a free pizza every other Wednesday, and what more could you possibly want?
The senior leadership clique - each one a near-identical clone with blindingly white teeth, suspiciously perfect hair plugs, and watches that cost more than your entire annual salary - are casually stepping out of brand-new Bentleys, Porsches, and top-of-the-line Teslas.
Meanwhile, the people actually keeping the company running are meal-prepping beans on toast for the fifth night in a row, praying their busted up 15-year-old hatchback makes it through another month.
How about we treat people like adults?
Tell them the truth. Be transparent.
If the company is struggling, say so. If it's thriving, great - but don’t turn it into a Broadway production (or crazy idea, why not share the success with the people who actually made it happen?).
Stop celebrating mistakes, mediocrity, and bad decisions just because it makes for a feel-good moment in a monthly stand-up.
Recognise the people actually keeping the company afloat instead.