Happy World Introvert’s Day, and thank you for all you have done!
When I was in the office, I was there because I had work to do, which required concentration. One of the most frustrating things was all the conversations directed my way (even when I was intently staring at my computer screen!). Don’t get me wrong, I like social dialog, but not when I’m working. So, I wrote this little poem, and intended on printing it on my coffee cup (but never got around to doing that). Susan Cain, thank God you are in our world!
I spent my career working in scientific laboratories, where introversion was generally the norm. Lab workers tend to work in isolation even if the laboratory design puts them side by side at the bench. In most places, morning coffee break was usually for social chit chat and about half the staff would show up, though not the same crew every day. Lunch times were less regular—people often ate alone in their office or went for a walk, or if they went to the lunchroom they would might read. And then the afternoon coffee break always had fewer people. When I had my own lab, I tended to use this for bonding with my students and staff, not work meetings per se but often talking about our research. When the workplace was healthy, this amount of interaction kept most of us content. Attempts by rah-rah extroverts to liven up the social structure rarely changed anything. During COVID, though, all this collapsed and even birthday cake days sometimes have a low turn out. As of yet, this organic social structure has not re-emerged, which to me is not a healthy workplace.
Most of my coworkers are introverts, however our boss is an extrovert and HIS boss is an extrovert. They are very much into what I call "forced fun" in the name of company unity. A few months ago we had a day-long picnic during work hours. A few weeks ago we had a lunchtime Christmas party in our largest conference room, the biggest space available to us but not big enough to really fit all of the employees, resulting in a cramped and too-loud environment. For both these events it is paid weekday time, and staying at your desk to do work is not an option. The event planners never ask for dietary preferences or activity preferences and they just assume everyone will want to eat meat, play kickball, and decorate a gingerbread house with other people.
As I sat with a couple of friends the other day, I told them that one of the things I would so love is to have Quiet Restaurants. The emphasis would be to have spaces where sound is muffled instead of amplified, where drinking coffee, eating, and talking take place in atmospheres of quiet.
I could see myself taking a laptop and working from there. One of the things I dislike in restaurants is the intrusive waiters and the pressure of having to consume and leave.
I would add Internet-free (Wi-Fi-free) sections to help me relearn to concentrate.
When I started as a programmer, we had small offices with 2-3 people, each with at least 9 square meters of space per person, including shared areas, as IBM recommended.
Over time, we imported the idea of open office space from the US. Managers loved it because they could better control what was happening, while higher management saved money on office space.
Business consultants taught us to mix workers from different departments. This immediately downright killed the productivity of knowledge workers (software developers and architects), while the supporting acts (marketing, product and product management, and support) loved it. They used their phones, producing sounds that disturbed those who had to think to produce, and even made it impossible to work from 9 to 5.
At the same time, line managers were moved into private offices but told to maintain an open-door policy. Thus, the private office became a status symbol rather than a productivity tool.
For me, as an autistic introvert, work became hell, em, suboptimal—like many things we imported from the US. When COVID-19 hit, and companies allowed for remote work, I so hoped this would stick. If only managers did not need control ...
To encourage introverts and extroverts, employers could reduce the number and/or duration of meetings. Many times my principal could have communicated the content of a faculty meeting in an email, and other times he really preferred to not entertain discussion. Returning our time to us and thereby encouraging solitary reflection is a gift.
I second the necessity to reduce the number of meetings. I used to work for a bank as a software developer. When we found an error in a piece of software, we had to hold so many meetings to get permission and plan both the change and the roll-out that we usually programmed for about 1-2 hours a week and were in meetings for the rest of it.
I found meetings to be called because the manager was lonely or had too little to do (which could be fixed either by getting some therapy or optimizing themselves from the line and the job), or the processes were so stiff, calcified, and petrified (because all the people in it were petrified of taking responsibility).
Happy World Introvert’s Day, and thank you for all you have done!
When I was in the office, I was there because I had work to do, which required concentration. One of the most frustrating things was all the conversations directed my way (even when I was intently staring at my computer screen!). Don’t get me wrong, I like social dialog, but not when I’m working. So, I wrote this little poem, and intended on printing it on my coffee cup (but never got around to doing that). Susan Cain, thank God you are in our world!
Fair adieu
Heed thee now, my cup hath spoken,
I bid thee a fair adieu.
Thy chattiness? My focus broken!
I have no time thy fat to chew.
RD
Quiet work space where one can close a door and focus on things at hand.
I spent my career working in scientific laboratories, where introversion was generally the norm. Lab workers tend to work in isolation even if the laboratory design puts them side by side at the bench. In most places, morning coffee break was usually for social chit chat and about half the staff would show up, though not the same crew every day. Lunch times were less regular—people often ate alone in their office or went for a walk, or if they went to the lunchroom they would might read. And then the afternoon coffee break always had fewer people. When I had my own lab, I tended to use this for bonding with my students and staff, not work meetings per se but often talking about our research. When the workplace was healthy, this amount of interaction kept most of us content. Attempts by rah-rah extroverts to liven up the social structure rarely changed anything. During COVID, though, all this collapsed and even birthday cake days sometimes have a low turn out. As of yet, this organic social structure has not re-emerged, which to me is not a healthy workplace.
Most of my coworkers are introverts, however our boss is an extrovert and HIS boss is an extrovert. They are very much into what I call "forced fun" in the name of company unity. A few months ago we had a day-long picnic during work hours. A few weeks ago we had a lunchtime Christmas party in our largest conference room, the biggest space available to us but not big enough to really fit all of the employees, resulting in a cramped and too-loud environment. For both these events it is paid weekday time, and staying at your desk to do work is not an option. The event planners never ask for dietary preferences or activity preferences and they just assume everyone will want to eat meat, play kickball, and decorate a gingerbread house with other people.
As I sat with a couple of friends the other day, I told them that one of the things I would so love is to have Quiet Restaurants. The emphasis would be to have spaces where sound is muffled instead of amplified, where drinking coffee, eating, and talking take place in atmospheres of quiet.
I could see myself taking a laptop and working from there. One of the things I dislike in restaurants is the intrusive waiters and the pressure of having to consume and leave.
I would add Internet-free (Wi-Fi-free) sections to help me relearn to concentrate.
When I started as a programmer, we had small offices with 2-3 people, each with at least 9 square meters of space per person, including shared areas, as IBM recommended.
Over time, we imported the idea of open office space from the US. Managers loved it because they could better control what was happening, while higher management saved money on office space.
Business consultants taught us to mix workers from different departments. This immediately downright killed the productivity of knowledge workers (software developers and architects), while the supporting acts (marketing, product and product management, and support) loved it. They used their phones, producing sounds that disturbed those who had to think to produce, and even made it impossible to work from 9 to 5.
At the same time, line managers were moved into private offices but told to maintain an open-door policy. Thus, the private office became a status symbol rather than a productivity tool.
For me, as an autistic introvert, work became hell, em, suboptimal—like many things we imported from the US. When COVID-19 hit, and companies allowed for remote work, I so hoped this would stick. If only managers did not need control ...
To encourage introverts and extroverts, employers could reduce the number and/or duration of meetings. Many times my principal could have communicated the content of a faculty meeting in an email, and other times he really preferred to not entertain discussion. Returning our time to us and thereby encouraging solitary reflection is a gift.
I second the necessity to reduce the number of meetings. I used to work for a bank as a software developer. When we found an error in a piece of software, we had to hold so many meetings to get permission and plan both the change and the roll-out that we usually programmed for about 1-2 hours a week and were in meetings for the rest of it.
I found meetings to be called because the manager was lonely or had too little to do (which could be fixed either by getting some therapy or optimizing themselves from the line and the job), or the processes were so stiff, calcified, and petrified (because all the people in it were petrified of taking responsibility).