You may have noticed I mentioned a re-organisation in a recent post. This is because I work for what is temporarily the largest retail bank in the UK. It wasn't when I joined it, before the sub-prime thing, when it was too big to take over or to be taken over. The Monopolies and Mergers Commission would not have allowed it. The sub-prime thing and the possible collapse of a Scottish bank found the government offering the CEO and Chairman – a good buddy of the Prime Minister – the chance to do a deal that would be nodded through. Their egos could not say no – and besides they and the other bank had been talking about it for some time. So the deal was rushed through, with, at the CEO's own public admission, about a fifth of the due diligence they would have done if the deal hadn't been politically-driven.
The re-organisation proceeded apace – a quite startling apace as well. They decided on systems (we won) and a board (we won). Within a few weeks they had decided on the next tier of management (the other side won) and then it reached the peons – me.
The decisions at the top level were about people. They actually got interviewed. We peons won't be interviewed unless it's a tie-breaker. Which means the decisions are about which parts of the organisation are going to be in which town and buildings, which roles are going to be moved from this group and moved to that group, which call centres are going to be closed and the like. The people will decide if they are willing to move or accept a changed role, and the management will get to choose from those who want to stay and are in the Pool. Ah yes, the Pool. So if Property have made the really big decisions, HR get to set the selection rules. And how difficult is it to say “You're in the Pool if you got a Satisfactory or better in your last two reviews”. There, I just said it. Between Property and HR, the decisions will be pretty much easy. In fact, the management may find themselves with fewer people than they want.
One of those fewer people will be me. I have been getting mediocre reviews. Probably rightly, as my heart isn't in the job and I don't fit in with large organisations, let alone large banks. There's a limit to how far you can be “professional”. I just finished the employee engagement survey (that's really what they call it and about which in another post) and I marked my job, equipment, training and development opportunities and overall satisfaction down at “are you kidding!” level. I've been looking for another job, but the market is slow. I'm only staying because I can't get out and I'm only being picky because the office is right in London's West End and I don't hate it that much to want to work in some industrial estate outside Bracknell. I don't like it so much I would be prepared to follow it to Bristol or Chester or Brighton or some industrial estate outside Hove. To mention some towns at random. I know exactly how much I will be kicking myself if I rented my house, found a flat in Lower Cokeatington and carried on in a similar role in a 1970's office block in Swindon. Within three weeks I would be wanting get the hell out and, being me, it would be showing in my behaviour.
This is the last time I make a decision to join an organisation because I'm going to be safe and get a shot at building up a pension. I've been made redundant three times already, each time in July, and this is going to be the fourth – unless the planets line up just right. If there's no chance to build up a pension in one of the country's largest banks, then there's nowhere to do it, for me, at all. You may be different, but I'm stuck with who I am. I can't make decisions about now based on a future that is uncertain, so I have to make today's decisions based on what's happening today. (That's how you reduce a middle-class lad like me to the same level as a corner boy in Baltimore.)
I woke up at half-past four this morning because this stuff was troubling me. It's going to be a long day.
No comments:
Post a Comment