For a large chunk of my adult life was in a position of power where hiring and firing was one of my responsibilities.
I was a partner in several ad agencies for a number of those years, and a vice president of marketing at a large real estate brokerage for a couple more. In that time I hired hundreds — and fired or laid off dozens.
If you have only been in front of the desk on the receiving end and never behind it dishing out the bad news, you have no idea what kind of torture it can be for those of us who have been tasked with this unenviable task. It was quite literally the worst part of my job. There were days it made me wish I was not the guy in charge.
I am by nature a compassionate person, someone who avoids conflict. So when the writing was ever on the wall, or on the floor — as it was in the case of one young account executive I found sleeping under her cubicle by following the waft of vodka that had trailed her from the nightclub on the Las Vegas Strip all the way to where her feet would normally be — it would affect me. And it marked the beginning of my personal Five Steps of Firing Hell.
The young lady under the desk absolutely deserved what she got.
Sometimes when the offense was particularly egregious, I would just go straight to Step 5. Those were the easy ones. But for the employees that had been unwittingly building a case against themselves over time, slowly chipping away at my force field of forgiveness, they were the ones that most tortured me. All five steps would always come into play.
Step 1: Anger
All you have to do is your job, the job you wanted. The job you asked for. The job we are paying you to do. If you won’t do that, then at least pretend to do it!
Step 2: Excuses
When she’s here, she’s really good. Well, kinda good … sometimes.
Step 3: Avoidance
(November 1) I wouldn’t want to ruin the spirit, so I’ll wait until after the holiday party. Oh, and her birthday is January 7, so we’ll just wait until after then.
Step 4: The Countdown
(February 15) The decision is made. Now, just don’t look at me or talk to me or come anywhere near me for the next four days. I think I’ll close my door until Friday morning.
Step 5: The Moment
(Friday 9 a.m.) Can you please come see me in my office? (9:02 a.m.) What the hell is taking her so long? (9:05 a.m.) What do you mean you thought you were getting a raise? Close the door behind you. (9:15 a.m.) Is she gone yet? What a relief. (9:20 a.m.) I’m taking an early lunch.
In retrospect, I’m not sure why I would always get so worked up, lose sleep and not be able to function during the entire Five Step process. The young lady under the desk absolutely deserved what she got. She should have been fired on the spot. The fact that she was only sent home and then lasted two more weeks was a gift to her.
Every person I ever had to fire had it coming. And in every instance, the process took way longer than it should have. That of course was driven by a deep-seeded desire to avoid the responsibilities of a Human Resource Manager altogether.
For those who have made HR their calling, I ask “why?” Why would you choose to be the person who has to babysit adults and to have to listen to their lies, complaints and issues; to teach them basic personal hygiene and common courtesies like flushing a toilet; to correct their political, sexual and general incorrectness; and to have to fire them.
Wait, that’s the good part! So why didn’t I enjoy it more?
NOTE: Today, I run a boutique ad agency from the comfort of my home in my shorts, tee-shirt and flip flops, with no one to manage other than two small dogs and my wife. I can’t fire any of them, and I couldn’t be happier.