“Hey, can you help me with this report? I really need to turn this in before the manager starts calling in. I can’t seem to fix the error on screen.”
She was a coworker who had been kind to me. I had the knowledge and the resources to help her.
“I’m sorry, I don’t have time for this right now. Give me 20 minutes.”
Those 20 minutes never came back. They turned into half a day, and then they called her into the manager’s cabin.
When she came out, she wanted to talk. We went outside, and she tore into me. She had every reason to. I’d been an asshole, and she had clearly been feeling helpless.
I was about ten months into a year at a company that emphasized performance-linked incentives. Everyone knew the parameters, so we focused on meeting them, whatever it took.
I’ve seen that logic play out elsewhere too. Whole teams hold their tasks and projects back until the end of the shift or the week, just to claim the overtime.
That year I worked harder than I ever had. Meeting the numbers meant going above and beyond, and I’d decided I wanted that bonus. (I’m not the kind of person who goes after rewards, so this was a psychological push more than anything.)
It was also the year I felt most anxious and upset. I was chasing something that wasn’t entirely in my control, beyond my own actions.
My judgment was clouded. I couldn’t tell what mattered more, my peace of mind or the money.
That night, after I got home, I thought about her. I’d been so busy chasing the numbers that I couldn’t find time for a friend who had been kind to me.
The next morning I walked in, not caring about the incentive plan. It could go to hell, as far as I cared. I was going to do what I felt was best, and that was all.
I felt centered and calm almost immediately. I ended up with about 30% of my bonus, and that was okay with me.
The bonus had been steering me for months, and the first person to pay for it was someone who had been kind to me. The reality I was living was far more complicated and nuanced, and it needed me to be a better human.