No asshole rule

This is a no asshole zone

No Asshole Rule

The Company A**hole. We all know him or her, and every company has one. A blowhard, a know-it-all, someone who has all the answers and, in their opinion, is never wrong. They think they are the life of the party, and their shit doesn’t stink. I don’t believe that most of these folks know they are a**holes. I don’t know how to help self-identify if you are one. Half of the a**holes know they are asses and won’t admit it to themselves. The other half wouldn’t believe it if they were told, so what is the use? 

Assholes can ruin it for everyone

I do know the effect assholes can have on the rest of the team.  This is why so many companies have the self-explanatory “no asshole rule.” These people can make life miserable, demoralize teams, and sometimes make us want to quit. My advice for those of you that do work with one, (and we all do), is to try to not let it bother you. I know this is easier said than done. If Mr. BlowHard wins the lotto and leaves the company, or better, gets hit by a bus, another BlowPop will stick his head up. The cycle will rinse, lather, and repeat. If you think quitting your job and leaving will help, there will be a Dumb Ass at your next company or department. Trust me; I am a professional, and I know a few things. 

HRNasty is pursuing his second passion. My first is what I blog about. (Photo: Brett Seng)

If you read this blog, you know that my second passion, outside of HR, is fly fishing for Steelhead with a Spey rod. The other day, I was reminded of a true story from last year’s fishing season. A good friend wanted to quit their job because of an asshole DooFus that was making his life miserable at work. I thought it might resonate here as well.  

Fish Camp

Every year, I get together with a group of angling buddies in a large rented house we use as a base camp to fly fish for Steelhead. Last year, I stayed there for about 5 days; during that time, anglers came and went. Some arrived before I arrived, and anglers were coming and going after I left. Of course, the fishing picked up dramatically after I left, but that is par for the course. It was a revolving community where everyone fished independently or in small groups during the day. At night, we all sat around the family-style dinner table to share stories, break bread, and raise glasses.  

I knew everyone there personally or by reputation. It was this way for everyone else. There were no strangers, and I had known most of the guys for years. It was a pretty tight-knit group, until day 3.

No excuses

Now granted, I was half sick because it was snowing, 24 degrees, and I didn’t get to eat my usual breakfast of country-fried steak, hash browns, and an over-easy egg on the first day. Somehow, I started the morning of day one with only half of a toasted pop tart, a cup of coffee, and a bowl of fruit from a pull-top can. No one else was complaining, so I went with it. My inside voice was screaming, “WTF? Who had grocery duty this week?” We were on the water by 7:00 AM, and by 9:00 AM, I began to feel the effects of my empty stomach and low blood sugar.  I am sure my 7:30 AM cigar while standing in a glacial melt river for the next two days didn’t help, but that isn’t the point.

Day 3

Doo-Dah arrived on the third evening.  I was doing my best to relax in the bark-o-lounger in front of a big screen TV and a roaring fire, watching some MMA. Life was as good as it could be after smoking 3-4 cigars daily with no fish to the hand and fighting a cold.

I don’t know what it was, but I immediately didn’t like the guy. My recruiter’s Spidey sense went off. Within 10 seconds of him coming through the door, my internal Lights and Sirens were blinding and blaring. I wasn’t even facing the front door. There was a “disturbance in the force.”  He was nice enough. The monkey introduced himself with the obligatory handshake, but I didn’t “feel right” about him or how he announced himself. 

He was a guest of one of the veterans of our yearly traditional trip. At the moment, I just accepted it and went back to fight night. 

Peanut Gallery

Not long after, I hear BlowHard explaining his fishing expertise to those who will listen. The thing is, he wasn’t just explaining, he was telling folks how good he was. He was bragging about how big his fish were and what exotic lands and waters he had traveled to catch them. Most of us have visited these places multiple times, so I wasn’t particularly impressed. On the contrary, I was turned off.  I asked myself, “Does this guy realize he is just a peanut in a house full of giants? Half these guys are published, and the other half have been written about or were featured in films.”  (Not me of course)

During dinner, our new guest dropped just a few too many F-bombs. Again, I wasn’t just “un-impressed.” I was turned off. I am all for dropping an F-bomb when appropriate, but as the new guy trying to make friends, I want to test the waters first. Am I a prude???? Yes, there were several raised eyebrows and some dirty glances shot in the direction of the angler who made the invite. 

After dinner, more of the same. “I am really good at this,” and an “eff’n this and eff’n that!”

The effect

The next day, three of us are floating down the river in a drift boat. It is cold, the air is silent, and the mood is not just peaceful; it is Zen. There are a few inches of fresh snow on the tree branches, and the water is so flat that you can see the reflection of the shoreline on the water’s edge. The moment of silence is broken with a single statement by Angler number 1.  “I didn’t like him as soon as I met him.”  This statement was as random as one could come up in such a peaceful moment, but I knew exactly who and what he was talking about.

This statement was followed by silence, and then Angler number 2. “I don’t think he will be invited back next year.” (Angler 2 happened to be in charge of the guest list.) DOHHH!!!! I just sat in silence and cracked a smile to myself. Nothing needed to be said. Nothing I said would change what was already baked and done.  

I don’t need to work to fire some folks

I am approached regularly at work. “Why don’t you get rid of this A-hole?”  “Are you doing anything about this dumbass?” I am usually working behind the scenes on these disrupters. When the offender is so egregious, my response is, “No, I am not doing anything to get rid of this employee. They are doing a great job of getting fired all by themselves.” 

Drinks and F-bombs

I found this all quite interesting. As an HR guy, I always try to give the benefit of the doubt in any potential negative situation. Doo-Dah didn’t do anything wrong. He had just driven for six straight hours by himself, was excited about the fishing, and probably wanted to talk. DooFus wasn’t that offensive. He swore a bit much for me, but in his defense, it is a fishing trip with nine Type A’s trying to put the biggest fish on the board. Me? Type B-. The group consisted of a couple of men going through a divorce, about to get into one, or recently coming out of one. With this demographic, I fully expect a few things: Toast with drinks in hand and F-Bombs.  

We are always interviewing

I couldn’t help but think that if this were an interview (and it was), he wouldn’t have made it past the first round. I don’t think he would have made it past reception. Obviously, we shouldn’t come into the lobby of a company we are interviewing and bust out with:

“Fuckin’ great to be here folks. I can’t wait to get this interview started.  Just got done interviewing down the street at Acme Publishing, and yeah, I nailed it!”

But I wouldn’t have put it past this guy.  

It was an interview because, in this small circle of anglers, this was a special group. I was stoked to be there. There were some heavy-hitting anglers in this niche circle, including professionals and published authors. In some tiny circles, they would be considered celebrities. (I don’t fall into either group; I hitched a ride on a buddy’s coattails)  BlowHard somehow managed to piss off several folks in the first 20 minutes. I am confident he didn’t even know what effect he had on the group. 

So what is the lesson? 

I am not sure, but the following comes to mind. 

“It is better to keep your mouth shut and let everyone think you are a fool than to open it and remove all doubt.” 

It’s not a competition; we don’t have to show everyone how much better we are.  

Set the bar low and let everyone think you are a dumb ass, then deliver the shock and awe of brilliance.

Learn about the other people in the group

Whether it is a new group of people, a first date, or a job interview, try to avoid making everything a competition. Approach it like a discussion where you are just as interested in finding out about everyone else. You may think you are overqualified, but the interviewer has seen bigger, faster, smarter. Everybody loves to talk about him or herself. We should also allow interviewers to tell us about the amazing aspects of their company and what they are looking for in a candidate. 

Avoid assholes, and we’ll see you at the after-party,

HRNasty

nasty: an unreal maneuver of incredible technique, something that is ridiculously good, tricky, and manipulative but with a result that can’t help but be admired, a phrase used to describe someone good at something. “He has a nasty forkball”.

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