simplerich

Here’s the thing… I really thought “Icarus” was spelled “Icharus.” I’ve talked to other people who thought that as well. I find books named that when I search it using google. The thing is though… it’s a non-standard spelling. Ugh. Glad I registered a non-standard spelling domain name. Now nobody will be able to find me.


The story of Icharus (spelled that way from now on so just accept it as a personal quirk, and unless you speak Greek you can’t prove I’m not right anyway so pththththt) has always been a favorite of mine. I’m pretty sure there’s all sorts of reasons for it.

He therefore resolved to make his escape, and for this purpose ingeniously contrived wings for himself and his young son Icharus, whom he diligently trained how to use them. Having awaited a favourable opportunity, father and son commenced their flight, and were well on their way when Icharus, pleased with the novel sensation, forgot altogether his father’s oft-repeated injunction not to approach too near the sun. The consequence was that the wax, by means of which his wings were attached, melted, and he fell into the sea and was drowned.

from DÆDALUS and ICHARUS 

 I love that story. Obviously there are longer versions out there, but almost everybody knows enough of the story for that to remind them of it.

There was a recent change up of management, supervisors, and just a whole big old mix-up in chain of command from owner down through a bunch of the middle management. I got caught up in it. My level of supervision was eliminated and I was transferred downwards one level since my previous level didn’t exist any more.

There were several people of different levels who had been caught up in the restructuring all talking and one of the things I heard said was “It’s nice to work for someone who will celebrate their employee’s successes and not feel threatened by the employee.” There were mutters of agreement. There was much nodding of heads. Icarus was very much the mythology of the company. Nobody wanted their wings to melt so nobody soared.

Icarus, whose wax wings wouldn’t bear his weight when he soared too close to the sun. Someone whose accomplishments got him too much attention, got him too high, and only increased the distance he had to fall as he surely would. The myth’s been told a hundred different ways and we were all living it and knew we were living it. We knew that our wax wings would hold us up off the ground safely, but the risk of too much success was a long fall to the ground.

Working for someone threatened by employee success was an insidiously stultifying thing. It was generally agreed that while nobody had consciously done a worse job than they were capable of and nobody would admit to doing less than was required because of it everybody agreed they’d worked harder, more creatively, and more up to their abilities when they were working for someone who wasn’t going to be threatened by their success.

So many people had trimmed their sales (sic) not because they were afraid of making a mistake by over-reaching, but because they were afraid if their star shone too brightly they’d be shuffled off to some corner of the company to rot. The goal was to be competent, good in small flashes, and only if the employee’s greatness could be deferred as the implementation of an idea from above, thereby making the upper chain look good as well as themselves. But all greatness, all thinking and ideas came from on high, and individual success was seen as something that would not serve an individuals long term interest.

Today… today the mythology has changed. The culture is different. The mythology hasn’t settled down yet. There’s a lot of debate as to what the new company mythology is or will be, but the part where it’s not a warning to those who want to succeed… that’s already a great thing in a lot of people’s minds.

As we go about reinventing the company with the doors still open, taking steps each day to put our feet on a different path than the one we were on before I feel like maybe today’s mythology is that of Hercules. A laundry list of heroic tasks to be completed to achieve a goal. The story itself is an exciting one to read, watch, or hear, but an arduous one to actually live. But, for all the work of the Augean Stables, there’s something refreshing about turning around and looking over your shoulder at the tasks behind you that are completed that you didn’t think were doable.

So, what’s your mythology?