Cleaning Up With Outsourcing

 

It was another dark and stormy night. I was staring at the stencil across my frosted glass office door, eyE etavirP, yrrebpsaR .t yelnatS. My secretary, Anne, had just left, saying “Good night, sleep tight, and if you don’t pay me tomorrow I’m going to kick your &^%,” when the phone rang.

“Stanley? It’s Deborah. You’d better get down here.”

Deborah was my inside source from Monolithic Corporation.

“Why, what’s going on?”

“The big wigs are bringing in some politicians, so it has to be hot.”

“How can I get in?”

“Disguise yourself as one of the custodians.”

“Don’t they need badges, too?”

“Yeah, but the guards never look at them. For some reason, Monolithic treats its cleaning staff rather poorly.”

“Most poorly-run organizations do. Okay, I’m on my way.”

With my cap pulled down low and wearing coveralls, I pushed a trash bin cart straight past the guards. Deborah was right – they barely glanced my way. I headed towards the hall where Deborah’s office was. Just a few feet away, I heard a guttural voice behind me.

“Raspberry! Dang it! You come here!”

I froze in place.

“Yeah, I’m talking to you. Come here!”

I slowly turned, still keeping my gaze low.

“How can I help, sir?”

“Somebody spilled some raspberry preserves in this break room, and if you know what’s good for you, you’ll clean it up RIGHT NOW!”

“Just let me fetch my stain remover, and I’ll get right on it, sir.”

The Monolithic manager huffed off just as Deborah opened her office door and beckoned me inside.

“Get to room 54B; it’s in the basement right next to the Hatfield Conference room.”

“The what conference room?”

“It was named after an obscure ProjectManagement.com blogger. Behind the velvet painting of Elvis there’s a peep hole you can use to listen in.”

As I shuffled in to basement room 54B, I could hear an animated discussion already going on. I closed the door, and pushed the velvet Elvis painting aside, and listened.

Voice #1 (guttural, so I assumed it was Monolithic’s president): “So, as you legislators can see, we don’t outsource anything we don’t have to, meaning more dollars stay here in this country.”

Voice #2 (a bit more earnest, so I assume it was one of the legislators): “But is that the most economical approach? If you were to outsource some of your parts or services, wouldn’t that reduce the costs on your government contracts, and then the taxpayer?”

Voice #1: “That’s not what we’re here to talk about. I want you three to introduce and push legislation that grants preferred status to companies like Monolithic that refuse to outsource, no matter the increased costs.”

Voice #3 (not guttural, but more experienced sounding than the first legislator to respond): “And why would we do that?”

Voice #1: “Two reasons: one, by pushing the preferred-no-outsourcing narrative, you can appear to be patriotic, since the funds stay in this country. Two, if you don’t, not only will we stop contributing to your campaigns, we will start supporting your opponents.”

Voice #2: “That sounds like a threat.”

At this point what I heard sounded like someone had told a really funny joke at a Darth Vader imitators’ convention.

Voice #1: “I’m not threatening. That would be un-American!”

Another very funny joke at a Darth Vader imitators’ convention.

Voice #2: “What about the intellectual forces against that meme, people like Stanley Raspberry?”

Voice #4 (guttural, but younger): “Raspberry? He’s been a pain in our…”

Here I heard a sound like a yardstick being slammed onto knuckles.

Voice #1: “Raspberry and his ilk are nothing to us. If you’re smart, you will do as we say.”

Voice #4: “I don’t get it. If your company is so big and successful, why do you need any kind of help from the government?”

Voice #1: “It’s not about our expenses. It’s about making harder for smaller competitors, who, as you know, could easily undercut us by outsourcing. Customers would flock to them in droves, so we just need you to demagogue this issue, so that people will continue to be mislead about outsourcing.”

Just then I heard the doorknob turn. I let the painting down, and began emptying the trash can as a Monolithic executive walked in.

“Get out of here, custodian!” he growled.

Deborah called me once I had returned to my office, and I gave her the lowdown on what Monolithic was up to.

“What are you going to do about it?” she asked.

“What I always do – counsel my clients to make the best decisions for them, which includes outsourcing, and watch them steadily erode Monolithic’s market share – right after I clean my office.”