Confessions of an IT Manager_Phil Factor

14 Training Your IT Manager
via curt emails. The visits to the pub, and gaiety in general, were curtailed and
the Comms group went very quiet; studious even. Puzzlingly, however, the
team seemed unperturbed and the expected uprising failed to materialize. They
were often seen to confer quietly amongst themselves, as if planning
something.
After a few weeks, the more observant among us detected that something
was different. We noticed an increase in the frequency of conferences between
manager and team. Soon, in his journeys about the office, the manager started
to adopt a strange, clearly unpractised, facial gesture that was like the grimace
of a sallow Transylvanian aristocrat. After a few more attempts, however, his
facial muscles settled into these previously unfamiliar duties, and the grimace
transformed into a sincere and rather fetching smile. We were stunned. One or
two members of his previous team visited on a pretext, just to gawp.
After about a month we were startled by the once-familiar cry of "Right
lads, it's Friday lunchtime, what the hell are we doing here?" And off they went
to the pub, laughing and joking, and watched by a sea of astonished heads
furtively peering over the tops of cubicles.
In the weeks that followed, peals of laughter emanated once more from the
Comms area, and good-natured jokes flew around the group. It was
extraordinary. It was like being in Santa's grotto. The group worked hard, like
gnomes, often into unpaid overtime if a job required it, but seemed to know
how to make the most of life, even whistling as they worked. In and around
them was their new beaming, genial manager.
A short while later, the manager took the whole team out for an evening
meal, as a special thank-you for finishing ahead of schedule a tricky networkreplacement
project. At this point, curiosity got the better of me and I
approached one of the Comms team members. He was a veteran who had
chosen a 'technical' career path, which meant that he always reported to
managers with less knowledge and experience than himself.
"Come on, this didn't happen by accident" I said, "How did you do it? Did
you dope him or something?"
"I'd love to tell you all, but my throat goes dry when I have to talk."
I took the hint and off we went to try out the guest bitter in the local pub. I
lined up a few glasses along the table and, as we sipped on the amber nectar, he
explained as follows.
"Managers have to be trained to your ways. They always arrive in a state
that makes you whistle to yourself and wonder who'd had charge of them
before you. It is very similar to the training of a puppy. At the start, there is a