NOT NOT-SPARTACUS

I did something rare today in my work culture. I apologised for a thing.

Oh it isn’t rare for me; I apologise for things all the time, even some things which just couldn’t have ever been my fault! If anything I’ve actually undermined the power of apology by using it too much. Sorry about that, everyone.

No, I’m talking about work culture, where people see failure as blame, and blame as a sort of hot potato to be thrown to the last man standing. “I’m not Spartacus!” shouts everyone who definitely is called Spartacus. Everybody else keeps quiet.

Well. Today I added a comment to a thread in Slack that was a bit harsh on someone. I knew it, but I was being hotheaded and uncharacteristically vocal in suggesting that they were wrong about a thing. I hammered it out and clicked Send.

Unbearable silence. Tickety tock, no reply, focus on something else, can’t, back to it... still nothing. Nothing nothing nothing. Nobody agreeing with me. Nobody responding. Nobody saying anything. Cold sweat. Conscience starts to burn.

I had to do something. So in the end (it was 34 minutes later) I pushed back my chair, got up and went to his desk.

“Hey,” I said, all friendly, “I just feel I need to apologise for being a bit aggressive on Slack earlier...”

A few people close by started listening in. That made the exchange about a thousand times worse. One person wanted to know what I’d actually said because they couldn’t believe it. Meanwhile, predictably, the person I was apologising to... hadn’t even read it yet.

I went bright red. He went redder. I tried to explain it out but I was already like a beetroot in a court room. You just don’t do this where I work. Most people would have deleted the comment, or simply styled it out. Perhaps some would have pretended that they meant something else, and defended their poor words to the last. But I couldn’t.

I think it was alright in the end. It’s a good lesson for me, not to let the frustration I feel cascade out onto others. And it was that! Earlier, someone had patronised me and told me off for asking a question I thought was very sensible. But (I realised) I’m not responsible for that person; just my response. It’s frightening how easy it is to let selfish responses overspill, uncontrolled and lethal, into the world around.

I don’t know whether I dented the culture. I hope I made at least a little impact. It’s difficult when you’re just one data point. I am probably an anomaly, moved by a sensitive conscience and the inner Voice I love so much, whose Dove I dare not lose. I did the right thing, I’m sure of it. I’m not not-Spartacus.