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With Immediate Effect...

by Philip Algar

375 pages; quality trade paperback (softcover); catalogue #04-0765; ISBN 1-4120-2937-6; US$24.50, C$28.00, EUR20.50, £14.30

What happens when an honest but bored, frustrated, inexperienced and unexpectedly-promoted office worker tries to cope with novel business and social challenges in today's odd world?


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about the book      about the author      excerpts      catalogue info

About the Book

What could happen to 55-year-old Henry Perkins, office worker, to change his humdrum life? Bored and frustrated in his marriage and in his job, his one ambition is to survive long enough to secure a good pension. Suddenly, unexpected promotion opens up a new world of business and pleasure. How will the inexperienced but honest Henry react, especially to the opportunity to compensate for his lost youth? We watch his response to unaccustomed challenges and to being thrust into the public eye. However, the new life could end almost before it began as factors that he cannot influence can make or break his future and that of the company.

Besides following the engaging Henry Perkins, the story takes a wry look at the absurdities of life in the business world and beyond. Office workers, past and present, will recognise individuals and their idiosyncrasies and all readers will enjoy the barbed comments on, for example, weather forecasters, politicians, taxi drivers, travel, official statistics, acronyms, job advertisements, management gobbledegook, supermarkets, some bizarre newspaper stories and much more.


About the Author

Philip Algar, an economist and writer, believes that he was born at the age of 25, thus avoiding the necessity of developing an early sense of humour to be deployed against school bullies. This encouraged his brothers to claim that later he had entered his second childhood without leaving his first. He regards this as a compliment.

He has actually worked in an office. For some years, Philip Algar was employed by several multinational companies, although, sadly, not simultaneously, before writing extensively about business, economics, politics and energy. Additionally, he has trained many international companies on aspects of crisis management. As there is no known medical cure for the cumulative impact of all this, he has adopted a less than serious view of life which has been reflected in many articles in recent years. He has received awards for his professional activities but has no intention of returning them as a gesture of protest against the way that business is now conducted, largely because he has forgotten where he put them.

Praise for WITH IMMEDIATE EFFECT…

Hugely enjoyable and hilarious. Insights abound. Every business person over 45 should read this. Worth several weeks of management training and development courses. (A former senior business executive)

The text romps along, cutting swathes through the ridiculous, often in a manner deliciously short on political correctness. While there is a narrative line, arguably the book is less of a novel and more of a management guide. It is none the less valuable for that…It’s all good fun…A good read, offering a wry look at the absurdities of he business world and those who work in it. (A senior company executive)

Philip Algar writes with gentle humour…The descriptions of the management meetings and strategy awaydays are disconcertingly accurate…I thoroughly recommend this book-it’s highly readable, very enjoyable and recognisable. (A senior company executive)

Perceptive observations of the ups and downs of office life…a quick turn of phrase accompanies a rollicking good read…(Lloyds List Energy Focus)

A witty satirical novel. (Energy Economist)

An amusing read in itself, this book also acts as a highly instructive management guide to handling communications in high profile situations. Highly recommended. (Petroleum Review)

Fiction, but not so far from the truth…A fun read…(Upstream)


Excerpts

Because it was the rush hour, only one escalator was working and predictably, it was the one devoted to the few passengers who wished to catch a train rather than leave the station.

The oldest man in the company was Arthur Williams, who was retiring in the autumn. He had never really recovered from learning of the death of Gracie Fields and lived in fear of hearing of the demise of Vera Lynn.

A survey by a broadsheet newspaper claimed that one in two people believed that they had lived before and it carried an interview with a young London waitress who maintained that she had been a World War 1 general and then a crocodile in an early James Bond film.

Jill met some acquaintances, many of whom had had recent operations. Henry thought that, between them, they had given up enough body parts to make a new human being, but wisely said nothing.

Early in his new life, Henry had realised that it was prudent to respond positively to taxi drivers' attempts at conversation. Consequently, a life-long liberal, he had vigorously endorsed dramatic plans to eject all those whose grandparents had not been born in this country and was deeply committed to the restoration of both corporal and capital punishment, preferably imposed simultaneously.

It was for Henry "un moment historique" as Ted Heath, the former prime minister, not the band leader, once tried to say although it's possible that the latter also made such a comment. It was just that it was never publicised. That's the price that you pay for being a band leader.

A car passed and Henry saw that it carried a notice indicating that caution was required as the vehicle had show dogs on board. Given this information, what, precisely, was he supposed to do? As a pedestrian, should he leap into the hedge, doff his hat or lower his head in respect?

One tabloid had two stories on the front page. One concerned a man who had killed his wife. The judge, having heard that he had been called a fat slob by his erstwhile next of kin, said that no point would be served by jailing this man. He had been provoked and killed his wife. Now he had no wife so nobody was in danger. Consequently, he ordered the man to undertake 50 hours of community service.

Several papers carried the story that killer bees, encouraged by the warm spring weather, another aspect of global warming, would soon land at Dover and could then move, remorselessly, to the capital. They had a tendency to attack red-haired people. A former UK foreign secretary was not worried, reportedly, but close friends were quoted as saying that he was taking basic but unspecified precautions. Perkins wondered if he might become a Whig.

He stretched across to pick up a supplier's fax that was on the machine. It said that "as per the voice mail, here is a fax of my most recent e-mail sent to the refinery".

Later, at home, Perkins was being debriefed by his wife, although not in a way that, if the scene had been televised, it would have had to appear after the so-called watershed at nine pm.

"I can do no better than to remind you of the words of a high-ranking European politician who said that reform strategy proposals should identify ways to integrate resource assessments with decisions on positive and negative priorities... I am awed by such clarity and beauty of language and I'm sure that you are. These words are as relevant today as when they were uttered last week."

That evening the family went out to dinner. The restaurant was full. However, the intending diners were promised by Marilyn, the receptionist, who smelt of permed hair and who had the sort of face that had never been young, that a table would be available soon. Horatio helpfully added that they would also need three chairs.

"Making staff pay for the use of coat hangers was a big mistake as was asking secretaries to clean their own offices."

He turned to the local paper and the following ad immediately caught his eye:

We want a powerfully-motivated, dynamic well-rounded strong person who wants to make a real difference to society. You will enjoy the challenging and exacting work in a team-led environment, occupying a highly visible role which exposes you to the community. Significant communication skills are required as you and your colleagues prioritise and resolve problems. You will need resilience and tenacity to ensure that everyone involved in the project remains focussed on collecting and then delivering results. You will also have a role in driving the team, at least once a week, towards its predicated goal and you will enjoy limited travel. We can promise you that each day will bring a fresh and sometimes not so fresh challenge.

...Applications should be sent to the Managing Co-ordinator, UDMCRS, (Unwanted Domestic Material Community Removal Service). Candidates should explain why they wanted to be associated with the reclamation scheme, RUBBISH, (the Removal of Unwanted Bins and Bags Into Selected Holes)...

The lead story was that an official survey, produced by a focus group, working closely with a panel of experts, had discovered that graduates enjoyed better health than those without degrees. In a revolutionary move, the government decreed that all those who had passed any recognised exams after the age of 14 would henceforth be regarded as graduates. The health secretary hailed this as a most imaginative move and said that it would take billions off the cost of running the National Health Service.

Over the years, he had realised that the older, and, frankly, the plainer the woman, the more they seemed to want more than a formal peck on the cheek or the aimed kiss that narrowly missed all contact. Equally, the younger females... seemed to think that unless an intended peck on the cheek missed by at least a foot, sorry, 305 millimetres, he was bent on lust. It was difficult for a chap.

The PR man, in his mid twenties, looked about 15 years of age. That was not an offence but it was not good. What could he know about anything?... the blue vertical stripes of his shirt were not on speaking terms with his yellow, green and brown three-piece tweed suit, the sort that people wear when they are just about to shoot something and then proclaim the death of the animal as a "damn good show".

Patently out of his depth, Henry justly feared the worst when the executive asked him if he had ever seen a camel race. Without waiting for a reply, he claimed that it was a most exhilarating experience. In short, it came fully recommended by the famous executive.

Perkins dolefully conceded the truth and said that he and his lady wife usually spent their holidays at Westhaven, and not withstanding its attractions, which Henry enumerated slowly and with some animation, to create the illusion that he was fully engaged in a conversation, "there is a very noticeable absence of camels. Indeed, in my 15 annual visits there, I've not seen a single one, or indeed, a married one, so racing was not a realistic possibility."

Apparently, few (taxi) drivers had ever intended to drive a London taxi. They were surprised to learn that, after chugging around the capital for many months in all weathers on a moped, to learn the geography, they became taxi drivers! Such intensive preparation, surely, had implied that they could reasonably expect to become accountants or zoo keepers? It just shows that none of us knows what lies around the corner, even if you have spent many hours sitting astride a two stroke engine, trying to find out precisely what does lie around the corner.

Because of a mistake in the overall programme, the band was still playing. Unfortunately, the musicians, charged to play something cheerful, were rendering "food, glorious food" from the musical Oliver, just as the video was showing the impact of famine in rural communities in the developing world.

HB had used haircream regularly since the days of Denis Compton and saw no reason to change just because other peoples' habits had altered. Consequently, his silver hair, like HB himself on most afternoons, was well plastered.

"I've got a good condominium just around the corner..." Henry recalled from his abortive days of studying that a condominium was the common rule of a territory by two or more nations. Talented as she undoubtedly was, surely, she was not ruling a part of Texas?

Sir Willerby Wistleton-Nugget, probably the biggest name in the UK oil industry, hear heared vigorously.."We have several choices. We can surrender, fight or find a white knight." Sir Willerby, most of whose friends were white knights, looked puzzled as Nigel continued.

Extracts from Chapter 4

Henry pushed his chair back, marched towards the lift, pushed the button for the eighth floor and, when nothing happened, puffed up the stairs.

Access to the leaders' floor, through heavy glass doors, installed to deter the most determined of unwelcome intruders, was only granted after he had bent down to the microphone in the wall, some two feet, sorry, Brussels, 600 millimetres, off the floor. Suitably positioned, he announced his identity and the name of the person who had summoned him. He felt ridiculous as he crouched to reveal his name to a girl, the other side of the door, whom he had known for about five years and who could see him clearly. She dutifully wrote the details in a large book, pressed a button and beckoned Henry to push on the now unlocked door.

This was a different world. Secretaries, mainly young and attractive, rushed around, seemingly bent on urgent and important missions, but, actually, visiting one another to discuss last night's television, boy-friends and, probably, the relative merits of open outcry and electronic trading of currency futures. They knew how to play the secretarial game, which was why they had risen above their contemporaries, both literally and financially. The floor was heavily carpeted and Henry noticed, with his usual internal grin, that his ankles had almost vanished. Strolling towards BF's office, he thought about the senior executives who inhabited this strange land.

Bernard Fricker, general manager, Human Resources, was a conceited, intense, humourless and justifiably hated man, who for whom "advancing the company's fortunes" was synonymous with dismissing employees. The company was his entire life and BF, who only spoke in management jargon in the office, was always busy, but it was not entirely clear what occupied him.

Henry was in BF's secretary's room. The unfortunately named Rose Bush was a phlegmatic lady, in her mid fifties, who bore her humourless parents no ill will. She was very plain which was partly responsible for her remaining a Bush. That was sad because she was sensitive, intelligent and always helpful and she dressed very smartly. Rose came from an age when it was considered normal to look clean and well dressed in an office.

"Good morning Henry". "Mr Fricker is on the phone at the moment, but he will finish soon. Please go in." She ushered Henry into his presence, mouthing unnecessarily "Mr Perkins to see you".

"My own view is that modern blue skies out-of-the-box fast-track management theory, even if backed by phased functionality, is frequently complicated by a fractured set of seemingly cohesive imperative drivers which, inherently, not only disrupt value chain analysis but undermine total quality management procedures whilst remaining distant from eternal verities. Ephemeral pragmatism must encourage us to reject simplistic paradigms and we must not concentrate on such transitional incongruence. Forgive me, but I had to over-simplify that because I have a visitor. We'll finish this later. Bye."

"Good morning, Perkins, come in."

"Thanks for coming up." Henry, who did not know that he had a choice, smiled.

"Sit down Perkins. I thought that we should spend some quality time in a face-to-face session but I've got to attend a meeting soon, so forgive me for being brief." Henry nodded sympathetically and vanished involuntarily into the further recesses of the comfortable leather armchair, the quality of which immediately set the manager apart from ordinary mortals. Struggling to sit further forward, he looked around the room which was adorned with all the usual meaningless impedimenta that managers collect to impress the gullible. Despite Henry's efforts to sit higher, the low chair meant that, like all BF's visitors, he had to look up to conduct any form of conversation. This, of course, was to put the visitor at an immediate disadvantage.

The room was littered with photographs of BF with people whom Henry assumed to be important executives and politicians but he didn't recognise any of them so felt guilty and ignorant. It did not occur to the innocent Henry that the people in the photographs were nonentities, who, like BF, richly deserved their status. On a table on the far wall, models of company road tankers mingled with business magazines and cubes of North Sea oil much favoured in the early days.

A smart bookcase contained volumes with titles such as Employment law in the 14th century, Human resources management-the supreme science and Julius Caesar-a failed HR manager and, oddly, Pekinese as Pets. Henry wondered what other roles these odd little dogs might play. Could they seek lost human resources on mountains or skilfully guide blind human resources around busy shopping centres? Surely, the dogs were so small they would sink into the snow or people would stand on them, unwittingly? Society was becoming increasingly unfair to dogs. Only last week, the local paper had carried a piece headed "Local dog trials results". Perhaps some guard dogs had teamed up with some criminals and provided inside information on a robbery?

The paintings on the walls were incomprehensible but there was one that Henry had not seen before. It consisted of violently coloured-arrows, solid and broken lines, swirling and inter-connected concentric circles and triangles which merged into an orgasmic mess. Was this the doodling of a drunken and talentless artist who was enriched by the spending and fawning of the gullible? Was it the effort of a small child, given some coloured pens whilst father was on the phone? A closer look revealed that this was the latest representation of management's organisational thinking, compiled by an expensive information consultant. The title of the work, which clarified everything, was "the new holistic conceptual image, recalibrated to reveal re-engineered competence and the release of renewed leverage in the context of human resources".

BF helped. "PACT's impressive, isn't it? It's a fascinating new diagnostic tool which will help us to redesign corporate architecture and articulate a new sourcing strategy for key skills whilst simultaneously prioritising expectations in core communities and rationalising corporate visibility."

"PACT?"

"Yes, it stands for Personal Action Catalyst Plan."

The senior executive's desk was bare: no paper sullied its purity. Was this because BF had no work to do or because he delegated satisfactorily? Some years ago, Henry's annual assessment criticised him for failing to delegate. Jill advised him to protest, which he did on the grounds that he had nobody to whom he could delegate. The adverse comment on delegation was removed but his report was annotated to the effect that he was unable to take management criticism and was a potentially disruptive force in the office. That, unknown to Henry, was one of many reasons why he had never been formally promoted.

Why had he been summoned? He was always amused by BF's bizarre management language so was pleased to add to his collection of phrases with which he entertained Jill sometimes. Occasionally, to impress BF, Henry employed some of the words used in management articles although he did not understand their meaning which was, of course, the best part.

The unseasonal heat had prompted BF to push his jacket back, revealing a pair of red braces. BF, like the portraits of railway navvies, was also wearing a belt. Henry resisted the temptation to see if string was bound around the lower part of his trousers to keep them clear of his boots. What deep-seated lack of confidence prompted the use of braces and a belt? Henry looked up and thought that BF's head, which appeared to grow out of his collar, looked as if it should have been re-potted some time ago.

"I've been very busy with our new system of internal mentoring and devising a competence framework so that we can diagnose our cultural norms and then draw up a flexible template that we can incorporate into our company architecture. It's important that we roll out an infrastructure that captures value before moving to the next platform. I've also been pretty pre-occupied with our new decision trees because I think that this can revitalise and re-engineer the whole company providing that we take into account the comprehension shortfall anxiety of those people out of the loop. After all, there's no point in taking a helicopter view unless we adopt a blue skies approach."

Henry, who had no idea what BF was talking about, nevertheless enjoyed employing his sense of humour tacitly in what, clearly, could be a light-hearted start to the week. He nodded knowingly and wondered whether tending decision trees was more difficult in hot weather.

"I welcome this opportunity to interface with you, for, as you know, I'm very much a bottom-up, rather than a top-down man." Perkins unsure whether to smile, wince or seek clarification of his superior's physical predilections, opted for silence.

"I believe in bonding."

Perkins, shaken, did not stir at the manager's confession, even in the context of his previous admission that he was a bottom-up man.

"That's why I wanted to walk through some ball park concepts, which could represent a step change and to indicate our overall game plan so that there's no comprehension shortfall. I've always believed in the upward feedback process but sometimes this must be subordinated to the imperative need for senior management to articulate the corporate core message. We must not peal the banana prematurely. As you know, we all promise that, each day, each hour, we shall review our own contribution to the corporate effort, to use our imagination and resources to be a force for good in everything we do, balancing and meeting the needs of our shareholders, the communities in which we operate, our own human resources and society and the environment in general"...

"Given the relative possibilities of either downside or upside potential, we have decided to accept that our best option, providing that we do not lose our view of the importance of customer awareness, is to downsize."... In our right-sizing plans, we must now consider a major policy of de-layering at the individual and corporate level."

A sleepy Perkins indicated that this had long been an essential pillar of his own philosophy.

It seemed to BF that his colleague understood what was necessary which was gratifying because he had really feared this interview. What he had to say was not easy which was why he was choosing his words with such care.

"We have spent many hours devising the big picture scenario, and, as you know, we have sent some staff on multiple-day events to discuss it and establish appropriate attitudes on environmental orientation, the overall concept of de-layering and downsizing and the potential for introducing this concept at an early stage. The resulting statements of attainment suggest that these courses have been very useful. One of the main features has been the high quality feed-back from the break-outs."

Perkins immediately sympathised and nodded. If he had been on one, breaking out would have been one of his first objectives.

"I know that you, Perkins, are keen to see the company in a win-win situation and that we avoid a doomsday scenario, or a double whammy and I take on board your comment on the need for peer support."

Henry, unaware that he had said anything about this, looked both gratified and surprised.

"Consequently, we must free up some HR human resources, ASAP."

Perkins, nearly asleep again, happened to look at his watch and BF noted the gesture, which he took to indicate his subordinate's understandable nervousness.

"Perkins, I'm going to have to let you go now."

Perkins made no effort to leave as he thought that it was rather rude to go without any further comment, after such an interesting chat. Besides, there was one biscuit left.

Extracts from chapter 5

Bernard Fricker left Broadoak House promptly to attend a meeting of the government-industry task force, SONS (Save our North Sea). He was sitting on a standing committee charged with determining how the work of study groups, peer panels, review groups, focus groups, a cross-industry forum, five task forces and a working committee could be improved. The new committee had been formed to challenge the views of some oil and gas experts who believed that there were too many such organisations which only created work for those who merited unemployment. BF, totally unbiased, because he knew nothing about exploration and production, maintained that all that was required to sustain indigenous oil production was improved communication. He was, therefore, a natural for the position of deputy leader of this team.

The meetings were going well. BF believed that this was because committee members were progressive civil servants and plain-speaking individuals from industry, just like him. Indeed, by only their fourth meeting, they had agreed on the shape of the table at which they met, oval, whether tea or coffee would be served in the afternoon, both, and whether biscuits should be made available, yes. Potentially more divisive was how the leader would be addressed during debate. After intensive argument, and the subject was so complex that it took nearly a complete meeting to resolve, it was decided that whether the most senior male or the only female on the committee were presiding, the correct term of address would be chairman or chair.

Today had seen a spectacular advance. It had been agreed that the minutes would be mailed within two months of each quarterly meeting and, after only minimal debate, it was decided that they would be printed on yellow, blue, green and red paper, one colour for each quarter, respectively, to allow immediate recognition. BF, however, asked what colour should be used for the minutes of any ad hoc meeting. The use of white paper was nominated, seconded and agreed. The sheets would not be punched before being circulated. BF had astutely pointed out that some companies favoured files with four holes whilst others opted for two which might not overlap the four holes.

Fricker had condemned the proposal to distribute the minutes by email on security grounds. This topic, too, had been carried over, unresolved, from the previous session, so BF was pleased that an accord had been reached. It demonstrated how goodwill could solve even the most complex problem when senior people were involved. The session ended just after the debate had been prolonged sufficiently to allow a free lunch to be delivered.


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