They told me to follow the process exactly, so I did. It cost them $48,000.
I used to work for one of those companies where middle management exists purely to justify its own existence. Layers of approvals, endless workflows, and a policy document so bloated it probably qualifies as a small novel.
My manager was obsessed with “the process.” Not outcomes. Not common sense. The process.
Every time something went wrong, his response wasn’t “how do we fix this,” it was “did you follow procedure.” Didn’t matter if the procedure was stupid, slow, or actively making things worse. If it was written down somewhere in Confluence in 2017, it was sacred.
One day we had a client issue that needed immediate action. Like, real-world impact, money-on-the-line, people waiting kind of urgent. I flagged it, explained the situation, even proposed a quick workaround that would’ve solved everything in about ten minutes.
He shut me down instantly.
“No shortcuts. Follow the process.”
I pointed out that the process involved submitting a ticket, waiting for approval, scheduling a review meeting, getting signoff from two departments, and then finally executing the fix sometime next week.
He looked me dead in the eyes and said, “That’s how we do things here.”
Cool.
So I followed the process.
I opened the ticket. I filled out every single required field, including the optional ones, because fuck it. I attached screenshots. I wrote a detailed explanation. Then I waited.
Two days later the ticket got assigned.
Another day passed before someone acknowledged it.
Then came the approval stage. Legal needed to review. Finance needed to review. Someone from another department asked for clarification on something that was already explained in the original ticket, so I re-explained it. Then they went quiet for another day.
Meanwhile the client problem was still happening.
By the end of week one, the client was furious. By week two, they were threatening to pull their contract. By week three, they actually did.
$48,000 gone. Just evaporated.
Suddenly my manager is panicking. Leadership is involved. Emergency meetings are scheduled. Slack channels explode. Everyone wants to know how this happened.
I forwarded the original Slack message where I’d proposed the immediate fix and he’d replied, verbatim, “No shortcuts. Follow the process.”
That message was read in complete silence on a Zoom call with six directors.
No one said anything for about ten seconds.
Then my manager tried to spin it like “we could’ve been more agile.” Which was cute, considering he’d personally kneecapped agility at every opportunity.
He never apologized. He just stopped making eye contact with me and started saying things like “let’s use judgment” in meetings, which is corporate for “please don’t weaponize my own rules against me again.”
I stayed another three months and did this repeatedly. Every time he tried to enforce policy over common sense, I complied with surgical precision. I documented everything. I cc’d everyone. I waited patiently while problems metastasized through bureaucracy.
He stopped micromanaging after that.
I eventually quit for a better job and more money. Last I heard, he’d been moved into a “special projects” role, which is where companies put people when they don’t trust them with real responsibilities anymore.
I still believe in process.
I just also believe that if you force smart people to act stupid long enough, eventually they will.
And it will be your fault.
My manager was obsessed with “the process.” Not outcomes. Not common sense. The process.
Every time something went wrong, his response wasn’t “how do we fix this,” it was “did you follow procedure.” Didn’t matter if the procedure was stupid, slow, or actively making things worse. If it was written down somewhere in Confluence in 2017, it was sacred.
One day we had a client issue that needed immediate action. Like, real-world impact, money-on-the-line, people waiting kind of urgent. I flagged it, explained the situation, even proposed a quick workaround that would’ve solved everything in about ten minutes.
He shut me down instantly.
“No shortcuts. Follow the process.”
I pointed out that the process involved submitting a ticket, waiting for approval, scheduling a review meeting, getting signoff from two departments, and then finally executing the fix sometime next week.
He looked me dead in the eyes and said, “That’s how we do things here.”
Cool.
So I followed the process.
I opened the ticket. I filled out every single required field, including the optional ones, because fuck it. I attached screenshots. I wrote a detailed explanation. Then I waited.
Two days later the ticket got assigned.
Another day passed before someone acknowledged it.
Then came the approval stage. Legal needed to review. Finance needed to review. Someone from another department asked for clarification on something that was already explained in the original ticket, so I re-explained it. Then they went quiet for another day.
Meanwhile the client problem was still happening.
By the end of week one, the client was furious. By week two, they were threatening to pull their contract. By week three, they actually did.
$48,000 gone. Just evaporated.
Suddenly my manager is panicking. Leadership is involved. Emergency meetings are scheduled. Slack channels explode. Everyone wants to know how this happened.
I forwarded the original Slack message where I’d proposed the immediate fix and he’d replied, verbatim, “No shortcuts. Follow the process.”
That message was read in complete silence on a Zoom call with six directors.
No one said anything for about ten seconds.
Then my manager tried to spin it like “we could’ve been more agile.” Which was cute, considering he’d personally kneecapped agility at every opportunity.
He never apologized. He just stopped making eye contact with me and started saying things like “let’s use judgment” in meetings, which is corporate for “please don’t weaponize my own rules against me again.”
I stayed another three months and did this repeatedly. Every time he tried to enforce policy over common sense, I complied with surgical precision. I documented everything. I cc’d everyone. I waited patiently while problems metastasized through bureaucracy.
He stopped micromanaging after that.
I eventually quit for a better job and more money. Last I heard, he’d been moved into a “special projects” role, which is where companies put people when they don’t trust them with real responsibilities anymore.
I still believe in process.
I just also believe that if you force smart people to act stupid long enough, eventually they will.
And it will be your fault.
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