The Big Byte by Geoff Clynes - HTML preview

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8.  Promotion

 

The job backlog was building up in Systems Programming, Fred Hart noted as he looked over the list of new queries, tasks and projects that had arrived last week.  It was perhaps a bit more than the usual influx, but the team hadn't really cleared much of the current jobs either, last week - at least, not on paper.  He'd have a clearer picture this afternoon, when the five progress reports were handed in for his weekly review.

For some strange reason, Fred decided that on balance he liked his supervisory role there.  It was a bastion of technicality, a place where he was constantly reminded of his technical limitations; an ivory tower, some of the other managers called the group.  It wasn't an ivory tower on the inside, though.  He was confident that few others could control that group of mavericks as well as he could.  He'd taken a long while to learn the gentle touch you needed.

If it weren't for the Company's very strong commitment to promotion from within, he'd doubtless still be a Team Leader on the Applications side, struggling with the never-ending conflicts between system limitations, user timetables and budgets.  He had needed some breaking-in though.

The group turned his goal-orientated approach around, slowly, in order to live with the realities of the area.  You couldn't really promise a timetable the way you could in other areas.  You had to take a good, thorough look at a request before you had any chance of "sizing" it, and you only finished up with a rather rough estimate that depended a lot on the approach taken by the Programmer.  How long will it take to solve this problem?  He learnt.

Today Lester was returning from seven days of leave, and it would be good to have him back.  Nobody was indispensable, even in the highly technical environment of a large computer system.  These people didn't work together on one project all that much.  at least two of the six (they'd had two additional people for a couple of years now)  could undertake anything that happened along.  Nevertheless his powers of concentration and years of experience (eight, wasn't it?) made Lester Bayliss a lot less dispensable than most.

When he was away, you noticed: you seemed to lose 25% of the available effort.  This last week had been another example of that, and Fred was ready to have him back in harness.  No doubt Lester would arrive at his desk at ten, but he'd be as productive as anyone by midday as long as he was pointed at the job pile.

On Friday, then, Hart had selected three jobs with care.  Two of them were apparent system "holes" from the Problem Desk, nasty ones from the half-a-dozen that nobody wanted to volunteer for.  Lester had put a new version of the Operating System in place a few weeks ago, after the recently-departed Ray Agnew had put in four months' testing.  So far, it had been remarkably trouble-free.  Nevertheless, there were an enormous number of functions, programs and facilities to look at, and these things just couldn't be perfect - it wasn't economical to try to check everything in advance.

He put a brief note with the three sheets on Bayliss' empty desk, and packed up for the weekend.

Lester:

Please talk to me about time estimates

when you have some background on these.

Welcome home.

Fred Hart.               Oct 17th.

That was all it needed.  Bayliss would tear into the two system problems first, and he'd have a set of two, maybe three, good estimates on Fred's desk late Monday afternoon.  Maybe at the Tuesday meeting one or two would be resolved:  Lester would work late.  Yes, once you learnt how to avoid his tender spots, Bayliss was certainly a contributor.  But for how long?

After the discussion a couple of weeks ago, Hart had felt forced to look ahead.  His star performer was bored, he'd made that clear.  It was a very difficult problem, this company pressure for increasing specialisation and the efficiency it brought, and the Supervisor hadn't a lot of capability to tackle that kind of a problem.  Bayliss did one kind of job supremely well, but he wanted to do something else instead.  He was losing a sense of achievement in the work he excelled at - and was well paid for.

Fred had been incredulous when the Memo had come through a week ago.  "... recommend he be authorised to undertake supervisory training ..."  the woman at Personnel had written, after the discussion he had set up.  It didn't seem to make a lot of sense, and he phoned her almost immediately.

“I'm not sure your recommendation can get us forward," he had started carefully.  "This is such a small group here, and I think Bayliss would be unhappy in man-management.  He's such an individualist.”

She felt that, too, but it couldn't end there, the woman was sure.  "If we don't give him any chance, we're telling him to take his services somewhere else."

So it was Fred's problem.  Once Lester had done a course or two, assuming that he didn't change his aspirations, then what did the Company do?  They had to find a way to promote him, I suppose, and I'd have to find a way to live without him.

Still, that process towards transfer/loss might drag on for a year or more before something decisive had to be done.  In the meantime, the woman probably had a point.  He had a choice of inviting a resignation in a month, or in twelve months.  Some choice!  It started him thinking rather aggressively, that Personnel woman's comment.  A month ago, they farewelled Agnew into his own private consultancy, and the subject of a replacement had naturally been canvassed.  Fred's supervisor at the time, the Software Manager Ron Wells, had been cool to say the least.

"We're not replacing anybody who leaves at the moment.  Profits down, sales prospects are in decline, the Government's not helping much: it's a time for belt tightening.  You're going to have to pull in a couple of notches, Fred." 

Then a month ago, the Software Manager had submitted his resignation, and now his replacement had been appointed.  Within ten day, he'd have to start the discussion all over again.

The new boss was a hot-shot.  Recently he had completed a project for a Merchant Bank based in Hong Kong.  Their new electronic funds transfer network linked nine countries together, and was rumored to be saving the bank over $1M a day in interest foregone on funds in transit.  It was a fine achievement; the network had come into use on time and on budget - a result almost unheard of for such a complex international project spread over 15 months.

Rumor had it, further, that he had two years to smarten up the sloppy Software operation that "old" Ron Wells had presided over, two years to prepare him for a more senior position in the company.

But they were distant considerations, Fred thought, bringing himself back to the present and its dramatic changes.  Suddenly there was a formal report routine, with a weekly planning and review discussion.  Suddenly you didn't have to fuss with careful wording of reports, lest the rather non-technical Wells misunderstood.  The highly sophisticated newcomer Murray got everything crystal clear - in both directions - at his Wednesday morning meetings.  You had to get things done, damn close to when you said you would.  Reacting to trouble was second-best; it was your fault that you didn't foresee the trouble and prevent it.  Suddenly the man had a second network of information-gatherers, heaven knows how or where, that kept him thoroughly informed on what his four managers weren't doing, weren't seeing, and weren’t coping with.

It didn't hurt much at first, but Fred had taken a while to press for a replacement for Ray Agnew.  He had reviewed the overall situation thoroughly, and the case was rock solid.  He had lost a senior programmer, and he'd worked with the lowered resources for a month.

Systems Programming was a Service group; you couldn't justify staffing up for the peaks, but you had to live with slack in the quiet periods.  Otherwise a disaster - a likely result of a sustained period of overwork in the section - could literally put the company out of business for weeks at a time.

They were just keeping abreast, in a quiet period, until some mandatory leave responsibilities started creeping up on them.  Moreover, one of his most senior people was showing signs of disaffection.  Personnel had been brought in, and agreed he might not stay long.  For a responsible manager, he reasoned at the Management Meeting, he was presiding over an intolerable risk.  This situation was outside the guidelines, and he wanted two people.

Murray listened intently to the case.  He collected the name of the Personnel contact, borrowed a whole year's job records from Fred, and wasn't seen for a day.  The records were back on his desk early one morning, without comment.  Fred Hart wasn't a forceful type usually, but this time he had been serious.

It was very comforting to have Lester back - it was his job to keep Lester there, and productive, for as long as possible.  Come to think of it, this latest complaint from Internal Audit was the kind of thing few but Bayliss could help with, when it was all boiled down.  He'd only been copied on the memo, possibly because they weren't really sure what resources they needed to fix their problem.  The Audit Manager felt his three EDP people could not support the new computer security system.  It gave them more control, more visibility, and still they asked for reams of printout, and kept claiming the controls were inadequate.

They'd lost the fox, Fred was sure.  The EDP Audit people were just as much specialists as his own people were, and they faced very similar upgrade training problems.  In this case, they had not been adequately trained in the new security system.  When the company had installed that Access Control Facility over a year ago, two of his group had helped with the implementation and user introductory training.  Bayliss and Towner had been complimented on the job they'd done at the time.

Unbelievably, two of the Auditors had been too busy to attend, or out of town, or some such, and the third resigned six months afterwards.  The supervisor hadn't bothered to come.  Fred would have to think through the politics of an offer, but they needed help again, most likely.

It was mid-afternoon when he got the phone call from Ken Murray.  He had his two new men; Murray had bent the guidelines and got the necessary approval.

"I've put in a request for two people with Assembler experience, and the Personnel people tell me they can get us what we want.  These people we're looking at don't have jobs now, so you will likely get your two people pretty quick, probably in a week or so.  The early start ought to be a big advantage for you.  Better start looking at induction schemes, right away.  Good luck," he finished

Lester had been waiting, his Secretary informed him, and wanted to see him for five or ten minutes.  Not finished the three jobs yet, surely?  They chatted for a few minutes about Cairns and the sunshine, finding some common ground in leisure and faraway places.  Then the business of the visit came forward.

The woman at Personnel hadn't been very encouraging, Fred discovered, but she didn't understand their work setting.  She was right about there being little current opportunity for any supervisory experience, but he thought that ought to change.  They were running it too close.  Nobody had said anything about a replacement for Agnew, but they had to get one.  He'd like to be considered for an intensive training role with the newcomer, when the time came.

Hart bit his tongue.  "I'll think we'll be replacing Agnew alright, but maybe not with a one-for-one walking genius like you, if you see my point."

"You mean I wouldn't be suitable," Lester had prodded. 

"No I certainly didn't mean that.  I meant we haven't hired anyone yet, and we won't know how much training - what training , what kind of supervision - is needed until we see who we've got."

“You mean I might be suitable?”  Bayliss persisted.

"You might very well be.  You mightn't be the only one.  Give us a bit of time, Less."  The one thing he surely needed was time.  Fred had to preserve a work environment.  Bayliss' career was important to Bayliss;  Hart's was at least as important to himself.

Blast the fellow, Fred lamented!  He might have been prescient, with the timing of his argument for control of any newcomer.  Fred gave his Secretary the "Do not disturb" routine and put his feet up to work out his position on that question.

At the Tuesday review Fred was clearly delighted to report that the two new people would start in Systems Programming in the next two weeks.  He hadn't planned to restructure the Department; the newcomers would only build the numbers up to a grand total of eight, after all.

"Well, who's going to train them?" one of the others asked innocently.  Everybody knew Fred wasn't up to it technically: he was good for other things.

"Like I said, it's a very small group.  We'll probably rotate them to work in turn with everybody.  That ought to get them covering a lot of ground quickly, build up their experience.  They’re not complete rookies, you know."

"They are to this suite," Phil Bailey growled.  "Anyhow, they sound more like second or third year apprentices to me. , They'll want a lot of watching until we can trust them."

Fred was not to lose sight of his recent triumph, though.  He'd got the people, and that was a victory for him.  "We'll have to arrange some supervision, but you people ought to see the positive side.  There's more people coming.  This is the help you've been asking for:  let's not knock it back."

That afternoon, Lester managed to catch Fred for a few minutes.

"Congratulations.  It must have been a battle to get those extra people, recession and all.  I've got some ideas about the training program, though.  You wouldn't want to underestimate the damage that strangers could do."

Fred was interested - and cautious, too.  Seemed Lester wasn't buying the informal arrangements, but maybe he had a good idea.

"Why don't you create an acting supervisor position, and rotate responsibility for it on a quarterly roster?  I'd like to have a go at pioneering that.  You'll only create resentment and confusion if the new boys are free to go where they like for help.  We'll have them asking four people the same questions."

The question sprang to Fred's mind of how a newcomer would cope with Lester's pioneering.  Should he just tell him? - You'll never make a supervisor.  You can't handle people.

"That might be a good idea after their probationary period," Hart agreed tentatively," but I think in the early days we might be better off with a more stable introductory arrangement.  I'd like to have a plan that's got a life of six months.  Can we afford a six-month supervisor?"

"Why not? In the long run, you're going to need a permanent supervisor.  It's just a question of when that gets set up."

That didn't appeal at all, Hart discovered.  Lester had turned it around again to a Yes-No situation; the company either will, or will not, offer him a career.  Have to find another solution.

"Well I think it's too early to lock one of our best people into an unproductive activity.  It's a good idea you've got, though.  Leave it with me for a day or two, will you?  I'm sure I can make use of it."

Next Monday Fred Hart unveiled his compromise.  For the six-month probationary period, the two newcomers would each have a "mentor".  Fred knew his Manager wouldn't dream of financing and getting authority for a supervisor position, and anyway he didn't see that as needed.  Lester and Phil Bailey would each be given "co-ordination" responsibility for one of the new men.  The latter pair would report direct to Fred, while Phil and Lester would help with allocation of workloads, as well as guidance on procedures.  The seniors would also bear the main responsibility for checking the newcomer's work, but each could call on the other for help as they needed.

Neat, Lester thought cynically.  There isn't going to be promotion, and in six months there'll just be a bigger team with Fred still on top.  Even so, half a loaf is better than no bread. He'd find a way to use the newcomers - to cover his tracks, perhaps.  This loose form of supervision might even turn out to be an advantage, if nobody had tight control of the new men's activities.  The "master plan" somehow seemed just a bit more real as Lester cleared his desk and headed off for his driving license test.

The Driver Testing facilities at Dandenong were most convenient.  His driving instructor had organised the appointment for midday, with a few cautions about over-confidence.  The inspector could easily decide to fail him, just because he appeared too confident.  No need to make any mistakes, just be careful, he warned himself.

Parking a block away from the Dandenong Railway Station Lester met his Instructor at the testing station, and they went through the procedure briefly.

"Don't get the tester offside," was the instructor's final advice. "Your overseas experience doesn't interest him.  Drive carefully, and think about the questions before you answer them."

The test went perfectly.  The inspector directed him up to a "Stop" sign in one place that was quite hidden by trees, but the white bar on the road was all he needed.  He stopped, commented how badly the sign was placed, but drew no reaction.

"How long did you say you’ve been driving?" the Inspector queried, back in the office.

"Fifteen years," Lester responded smoothly.  "If I could find the English License it would probably be a lot easier, but I think it's lost."

"How come you haven't got an accent?"

"Because I'm Australian.  My parents took me there, and I've just arrived back."

"Had any accidents?" The man still wasn't comfortable.

"A few.  Nothing serious, and not for three or four years."  What was this all about?

"Been driving here at all?"

Lester hesitated for a moment.  Yes, he was a perfectly good driver.

"Well, once or twice, perhaps."  He couldn't be hung for that.

Having apparently caught him out, the Inspector seemed to think that explained the high quality of his driving skills.  "We'll check your U.K. driving records, you know."

"That's fine, there's nothing there," Lester responded confidently.  There certainly wasn't.  He felt confident that that was only a bluff.  If they wanted to do that, they'd almost certainly want him to do the legwork.  However if it did come to that, he'd have to think carefully about dumping this second identity, and trying some other way to set up a new cover to replace it.

But it was all over.  He responded automatically to the clerk's call for Mr.Conley, paid the money and strolled back into the warm Spring sunshine with a temporary version of his precious new Driving License.

What a great day this has been!  Not yet one o'clock, and already he had become part-supervisor-elect, and collected the key document for his new identity.