Good Job

My New Boss Has Some Unfortunate Corporate Mannerisms. I’m Having an Involuntary Reaction to It.

I can’t take it.

Two women speaking to each other.
Photo illustration by Slate. Photo by MangoStar_Studio/Getty Images Plus. 

Good Job is Slate’s advice column on work. Have a workplace problem big or small? Send it to Laura Helmuth and Doree Shafrir here. (It’s anonymous!)

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Dear Good Job,

About a month ago, I got a new manager who shares an office with me and has been driving me up the wall. We’ve gotten a lot of those “getting to know you” kinks worked out, except one.

She’s too professional. This seems like a stupid thing to complain about, but I’m someone who finds corporate-speak soul-sucking. It feels like I’m talking to ChatGPT instead of a real person. I pride myself on being a real person who speaks practically and honestly about things, even if it means I’m “unprofessional” sometimes, because in my experience, “professional” is often used as an excuse to talk around issues and prioritize politeness and hierarchy over actually doing our jobs well.

My new manager talks in corporate-speak almost constantly. I understand that people think there are benefits to sounding like an AI, but whenever she communicates with me like that, my knee-jerk instinct is that she’s being condescending toward me, even though I’m almost positive that’s not her intention. That instinct is stressing me out.

I don’t think I can ask her to be less professional when talking to me, so short of modeling to her how I want to be treated, which I’ve been trying to do, how am I supposed to address or deal with this? I want a manager who talks to me like I’m a human doing a human job.

—Don’t Treat Me Like a Clanker

Dear Don’t Treat Me Like a Clanker,

It sounds like you’re witnessing a case study in epistemic capture. That’s basically when someone adopts the language, assumptions, and values of a powerful culture, usually without recognizing that they’ve been “captured” by it. You’re almost certainly right that your new manager doesn’t mean to be condescending or robotic. Corporate-ese is simply the language she speaks.

As you build your relationship with this new manager, I think you have two options for managing your annoyance about her jargon: compassion and humor. Try to find some pity for someone who has tried so desperately to succeed at work that she joined the Borg Collective. She may be over-compensating for past experiences of exclusion and discrimination. Professional language might help her manage difficult situations. She might genuinely believe in your organization’s mission—and you work there, too, so try to appreciate or at least excuse her enthusiasm. Again, she probably doesn’t realize how clearly her daily language echoes that of company leadership. Some researchers interested in this phenomenon recently developed a “corporate bullshit receptivity scale” and found that people who accept and parrot corporate language have weaker analytical skills.

If you can, try to find humor in the stilted language you hear at the office. If you haven’t lately, read McSweeney’s classic “Let Me Translate My Emails For You.” If you become friendly with your new manager and if she can laugh at herself—two big “ifs,” so don’t rush this—you could ask her, with mock confusion and a big smile, to translate a request into English for you. Her corporate-speak will sound less strange as you spend more time together, so enjoy quietly noting the most absurd examples of it now, while it’s still fresh and new.

One caution, though: You say you are sometimes “unprofessional” at work. If that’s a self-description, fine. But calling someone “unprofessional” is a professional way to say they’re being rude, hostile, disruptive, or otherwise inappropriate, so if you ever do receive that criticism at work, take it seriously. (Them’s firing words.) Otherwise, you’re right to model more natural language and behavior, as you’re doing, especially in front of co-workers who are not fluent in corporate-speak. You may be able to help nudge your manager and your corporate culture into a more human language.

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Dear Good Job,

I work at a public university. Our focus, from admissions to advancement, is helping students, particularly those who might struggle to get into or stay in college, succeed. Most of our scholarships are for students with financial need, and are not merit-based because the goal is to help the student with a 2.7 GPA find a meaningful career. The students with 4.4 GPAs have plenty of options. We are a pretty diverse campus, and many of our students are first-generation college attendees, immigrants, or both. Our staff and faculty are similarly diverse.

Recent protests against Immigration and Customs Enforcement on campus have been well-intentioned but poorly executed. The campus isn’t adequately funded or equipped to go beyond not cooperating with federal agents and making sure they follow the rule of law. Students keep harping about “the administration” when they’re actually talking about immigrant faculty or yelling about “old white men,” when that’s not at all who runs the school. They don’t actually understand how anything works. Their demands are impossible to meet, and no amount of explaining sinks in. They assume the admin is lying, but as the old adage goes, everything seems like a conspiracy when you don’t know how things work.

Staff and faculty are terrified of getting on the Feds’ radar, as the students seem hell-bent on provoking confrontation with people trying to keep everyone safe in a scary situation. One way of doing that is not drawing attention to our school. I’m an immigrant myself and do not appreciate their actions. I came from a country with an oppressive government and understand that avoiding the limelight is a survival strategy. The students who are protesting are all white non-immigrants who think they’re being good allies, when in fact, they’re drawing a target on all our backs. Is there a way to reason with them? I’m not in leadership, but the possibility of being accosted by a protester grows daily, and I’d like to talk to them human to human.

—Trying to Survive

Dear Trying to Survive,

I’m sorry you and so many people on campuses across the United States are being threatened by ICE and other assaults on academic freedom and higher education right now. For anyone who isn’t keeping track: Governors have appointed political hacks to university trustee boards; entire academic programs and course requirements are being axed for partisan reasons; the Trump administration is canceling or refusing to pay out research grants; international students are being detained or excluded; and entire diversity, equity and inclusion department staff have been fired. I understand the impulse to avoid drawing attention to the school, but being part of a university community means you’re already a target.

You mention you’re not in leadership, but perhaps someone in leadership will listen to you. You could recommend that they host a PEN America workshop on campus speech for faculty, staff, and administrators. (PEN America’s trainings and resources for protecting yourself from online harassment are also excellent.) It sounds like someone in administration is already meeting with student protesters. Even though meetings haven’t seemed productive, the university should keep hosting discussions, listening to students, and doing whatever it can to protect the campus from ICE thugs. It’s respectful and appropriate for members of the administration to meet with students, but it might improve communication and the protesters’ effectiveness to bring in other people—leaders of the faculty senate, mid-level staff, or people who have dealt with ICE on other campuses and have tips to share. Professors or staff with expertise in history, social justice movements, political science, or other related fields could hold teach-ins, organize workshops, or offer to be faculty advisors to student activist groups. Perhaps you could volunteer to share your experience living under an oppressive government? The goal shouldn’t be to squelch students’ activism, but to educate them and help them be more effective on campus and after they graduate.

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Dear Good Job,

I’ve recently been asked to take on a mentee in my field by someone who really helped me get a start in my industry at the beginning of my career. I’d love to help! I have experience mentoring students and early-career professionals. I’ve enjoyed it and always feel good about giving someone else a bit of useful advice.

The only problem is, I now feel like a cynical, jaded, old Debbie Downer! I don’t know that I have good advice for young people, when my industry, much like many others, constantly sees layoffs and instability, and quite frankly, is very different than the one in which I got my start. I don’t have good advice for finding a job at a time when so many people are struggling to do so. I’m worried about coming across as too negative to this idealistic, still positive young person and crushing their dreams. How can I still be helpful?

—It’s Bleak

Dear It’s Bleak,

It sure is bleak, in too many industries. I think you’re approaching this new mentorship with the right attitude: You’re being realistic about your field and sensitive to this new person’s hopes and fears. You’ll be much more helpful than a mentor who comes in full of sunshine and survivorship bias. (“Survivorship bias” describes the problem that people who succeed in a competitive situation are held up as models of how to succeed, when a lot of their behaviors were irrelevant or counterproductive. The lesson of Steve Jobs is “make good products people want and be very lucky,” not “be a jerk,” but too many people in tech took the wrong lesson.) Your role as a mentor is to demystify your field, share its history, explain its culture, make connections, answer the questions you can, and help them think about their job and career. A little Debbie Downerness, in the form of compassionate honesty about your field, will help them understand its challenges.

While we’re here: Congratulations on having the opportunity to pay it forward! I love that your former mentor has asked you to mentor someone else. It must be satisfying to know they trust you to guide this new person. If you haven’t lately, thank your mentor for their help when you were starting out. You may remember things they taught you that would be relevant, in some updated version, for your new mentee. And if your mentee asks how they can thank you for your help, tell them to pay it forward when they’re more established in their career.

—Laura

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