Hola, pongo esta lectura, en inglés, perdonadme porque no la he traducido, por si acaso no sale bien y se pierden cosas.
Me fijé en este libro por un post o como se llame en Telegram del pedazo de canal de Chitauri. Que es una pasada con mucha frecuencia.
Se trata ni más ni menos que una reseña en Goodreads del libro Operators and Things escrito por una tal Bárbara O'Brien creo por los años 50.
Es de un usuario cualquiera, o quizá es un señor académico, pero eso da igual.
El libro se centra en la experiencia real de Bárbara, que sufrió durante unos meses un episodio de esquizofrenia agudo, estando ella trabajando en una buena empresa, con un buen puesto y todo eso.
El que hace la reseña expresa lo que él quiere señalar en concreto, lógicamente, y expone detalles muy impactantes, con mucha miga, y que tienen mucho que ver con este tema del que hablamos aquí.
Además, usa todo lo que escribe para ponerlo en relación con una parte misteriosamente antiestética, (en realidad, instintivamente antiestética para mucha gente) de lo que son las grandes empresas, las grandes firmas.
Vais a flipar, creo yo. No me he leído el libro, eso también lo digo, lo encontré ahora.
Corporate Nightmares
I’m sure that psychiatry has moved on since the 1950’s. But corporate life has not. O’Brien’s insights about ‘Operators’, those psychopathic manipulators who make organisational life a misery, are as valid, and as chilling, as ever. As is common with many psychological aberrations, her symptoms might have been dysfunctional. Her schizophrenia, however, was entirely rational. The corporate jungle is an inherently insane place to which she adapted rather creatively.
O’Brien watched as the quality of work-life - and long-standing careers - deteriorated around her. Her understanding of the Machiavellian tactics of some of her colleagues was precise. She knew exactly what they were doing to move up the corporate hierarchy. They worked without leaving finger prints and with complete effectiveness. No one else noticed. Eventually she became afraid that what was being done to others would be done to her. In such a situation madness seems a reasonable solution. Schizophrenia was her “court of last resort.” A place to obtain justice.
She says, after seven years with the firm had built a successful career, “Had I gone, to another firm I would have had a change of scene and an opportunity to escape from the terror that wrapped itself around me every morning that I walked into Knox. But I had a great deal at Knox and I wanted to hold onto it.” She knew, correctly, that the problem wasn’t Knox but corporate sociology. There is no escape. She says she found herself inhabiting a society of Orwell’s 1984.
Indeed there is little existential difference between IBM (or any large corporate organisation) and the old Soviet Union. Both are totalitarian structures of strict lines of authority with no accountability to inferiors. Both require strict adherence to the party line and the ability to work the system. Appearance is reality. The dissonance was simply over-powering for O’Brien: “By the time you have twisted the facts to agree with the picture you wish to see, your subconscious mind has helpfully plodded through the past and distorted a lifetime of facts to make them agree with your present self-deception program.”
The ‘error’, to the extent she made one, was to take personal responsibility for the consequences when the “hook” was put into her. This ethical stance was lethal. Although her only alternative would have been to play the games of the Operators, she still felt guilt about her vulnerability and incapacity to prevent what seemed inevitable. In response, she develops a repertory company of internal psychic advisers with whom she could confer about the external Operators. Her advisers give her the truth of the situation: She has become a Thing. “A Thing does what some Operator wants it to do, only it remains under the impression that its thoughts originate in its own mind.”
This of course is a profound revelation but must be kept entirely secret. “Information which no Thing should ever have was being divulged to a Thing; the Thing might give the information to other Things, thereby creating a hazardous situation.” But because of the relationship between Operators and Things, one dare not trust the secret to anyone else: “So far as surface appearance is concerned, Operators are identical with Things. No Thing would be able to distinguish one from the other...” Everyone is a potential enemy. The logic is airtight and based on sound empirical data.
Operators will always outwit Things. They are capable of looking into the minds of Things. But Things prefer to believe they are independent. This is willing self-delusion and gives Operators free rein. Things are therefore helpless. This realisation is the moment of public breakdown, when the men in white coats arrive and a quite different phase of the condition is initiated.
Now everything is filtered through the internal advisers, who are, of course, themselves Operators, but Operators of which the Thing is at least aware, so to some extent trustworthy. They are in charge internally of their Thong. They answer all questions posed from external sources. They direct the next move. They explain the context of every situation. They are, after all, the only ones competent to deal with reality. Who could argue? Certainly not the hapless Thing who formerly was Barbara O’Brien.
There are various types of internal Operators, each with a specialised function and a scope or range over which they can exercise influence. They act together like a city council. Arguments among them are facilitated by an Adjudicator, who also can sentence Operators to various punishments for exceeding the limits of Operator-authority - like for example instructing a Thing to kill another Thing. This sort of event does happen, unfortunately, but the Operator is told in strictest terms to knock it off. The fates of the Things involved are of no real concern to the Operators.
Things are motivated by money which is an absolute, objective standard. Operators are motivated by points, which are entirely subjective and relative to position among other Operators. Things earn; Operators score. Things are attracted to corporate life because of long-term prospects. Operators seek out and find the immediate opportunity. The corporate hierarchy is where this dynamic duo comes into its own. The Operator/Thing split could well be a successful psychological adaptation to corporate life. It’s a win/win situation as long as Operators and Things are pulling in the same direction. Unfortunately the occasional Thing has second thoughts - probably because of childhood ethical education taken too seriously - and starts balking at instruction of the Operators. This is not a successful career tactic.
The Operators proliferate as needed to cope with new situations. Lumberjacks, and Mormons, and Indians are on hand to deal with tricky situations outside the corporate realm. Actually, however, nothing is outside that realm. The entire society is corporate and its nefarious Operators are everywhere. The entire corporate culture depends upon them. Having one’s own private army of Operators is therefore essential for survival.
One day the Operators may decide that their work is done. If so, they leave. No one knows why, but suddenly they’re gone. Perhaps the Thing has been reconciled to corporate reality. Alternatively, the Thing has twigged to this reality and maintains a psychic distance from it. This departure of the Operators may be a relief but only until one realises they may be back at any time with similar unannounced suddenness. Meanwhile one still has to make a living, which means re-entering the toxic environment of corporate life.
The clinical definition and prevalence of schizophrenia has changed considerably since the 1950’s and O’Brien’s experience may be an extreme one. Nevertheless, the correlation between corporate society and the condition seems real. Something certainly to think about when advising one’s children and grandchildren. Or does that smack too much of being an Operator?
Perhaps, in any case, schizophrenia is just a part of maturation - a sort of just desserts for whatever we’ve become. It seems to strike most viciously in young adulthood, just at the point when it becomes clear that the world doesn’t share the same ethical standards. As O’Brien says, “There is a terrible kind of ironic justice in schizophrenia. Whatever it is you are, you are, possibly for the first time in your life, at the absolute mercy of.”
