The initial message from my supervisor was direct.
A co-worker had not reported to work in a few days. I was going to need to pick up the consults with his clients.
I quickly agreed to the mission. But it turns out my supervisor had more to share.
I know this isn’t ideal, she stated. I know it’s a new circumstance, and it puts you in a tough spot. But rest assured that I’m going to get to the bottom of this.
I read between the lines instantly.
You see, my colleague had pulled this stunt at the most inopportune time. Our team had gone remote due to a global pandemic. And this made it easy to slack off on the job without detection.
Timecard reporting and vacation requests were on the honor system. There was no foolproof way to see if any of us were at our desks.
My supervisor had only caught on to my colleague’s ruse when clients complained to her. Messages to him went unrequited. A forensic analysis revealed extensive work undone.
It was increasingly clear that my colleague had abandoned his post. He’d deserted his responsibilities. He’d committed dereliction of duty.
And now we were left to clean up the mess.
Dereliction of duty.
It’s a fancy term. But it often carries severe consequences.
We bristle at violations of the Ten Commandments — murder, theft, dishonesty, and so on. But of the offenses not etched in those ancient tablets, dereliction of duty might draw our strongest ire.
You see, despite our boasts of individuality, we rely on others a great deal. There is no i in team, and it takes a village to accomplish anything of note.
The biggest threat to group work is attrition. When team members don’t pull their weight, it forces others to fill the gaps. Balance evaporates, progress slows, and strain proliferates.
This is a significant problem. And when team members walk away from the mission, the problem grows exponentially.
Deserters do more than put pressure on those they left behind. They threaten to use that team’s operational secrets against it. And they cast doubt on the group’s legitimacy.
This is an existential threat. One that leads us to sound the alarm for dereliction of duty.
Indeed, soldiers who’ve walked away from their battlefield posts have been rounded up and executed. Athletes who’ve walked out on their team have been banned from their league. And those who’ve walked off the job have often been sued for breach of contract.
I don’t believe my employer sued my deserting colleague for breach of contract. But I’m sure he was dismissed with cause for what he’d done.
Such a fate would have been deserved.
But plenty of others in differing circumstances have received similar punishments. And those condemned masses likely got a raw deal.
The medical bill caught me off guard.
Eight months after forking over some money to get an MRI, I was being charged for the remainder of the cost.
That remainder was not cheap. And it complicated my attempts to pay off my credit card balance.
As I stared at the bill, I fumed.
Surely, there a statute of limitations for this. A reasonable period in which such residual costs could be collected. And eight months seemed beyond the pale of that statute.
I felt like I was being extorted. I felt used. I felt blatantly disrespected.
And I wanted a pound of flesh from the medical billing employees.
If I was this terrible at my job, I wouldn’t have one, I muttered.
It wasn’t the first time I’d uttered this phrase. But deep down inside, I knew it was all talk.
I wasn’t looking to peel people from their livelihoods on the account of incompetence. I’ve been laid off before, and I know how damaging job loss can be.
I was simply blowing off steam.
That said, many in positions of power have been less merciful. They’ve been quick to hit the Eject button on underperforming employees. And all too often, Dereliction of Duty has been listed as the cause.
If this seems like a misnomer, it’s because it is.
After all, these employees are not abandoning their posts. They’re just degrading the effectiveness of their positions.
The specialist tasked with my MRI statement likely reported to work each day, even as my bill lay in limbo for months. The corporate associate who missed their monthly targets still showed up to give it their best shot.
And yet, if they were to be shown the door, it would come with the stain of abandonment. Of desertion. Of dereliction of duty.
Do the power brokers casting these stones know what dereliction of duty means? Do they care?
They should.
Four times in my career, I’ve joined a new company.
Each time, the fresh start came with plenty of emotions — and lots of paperwork.
Most of the paperwork was standard — federal tax reporting forms, computer usage policies and the like. But twice, I also had to sign a non-compete agreement.
These agreements were defensive maneuvers. The industries I was preparing to work in were highly competitive, and company-hopping employees were a clear threat. By demanding that new hires sign a non-compete, businesses were minimizing the danger of job abandonment.
I’ve long associated these overt agreements with a tacit one. By signing them and abiding by them, I was proected against professional character assassination. If I showed up each day, stayed above board, and maintained a strong effort, I wouldn’t be accused of dereliction of due.
So far, that has come to pass. But that’s more by chance than by decree.
More and more companies assess employee performance by outcome these days, rather than output. Hitting the objectives of a role matters, but only if it leads to positive outcomes for the company. This could be revenue growth, increased market share, or a host of other corporate markers.
If employees deliver the goods and the company prospers, they stay on. If they only manage the first part, they could be dismissed. And on the way out the door, they’ll be slapped with the label of Dereliction of Duty.
This is similar to the mandate for football coaches. A coach can improve the readiness and performance of all the players on the squad. But if that positive momentum doesn’t lead the squad to win football games, that coach will get kicked to the curb.
But lay employees are not football coaches. There are no weekly scrimmages. There’s no central entity keeping score or handing out trophies at the end.
It’s apples and oranges. And it’s high time we start recognizing that.
So, let’s reserve Dereliction of Duty for those who truly deserve the label. Those like my ex-colleague, who pulled a Houdini and vanished into thin air.
And let’s stop smearing those who keep showing up and giving their best, just because the organization fell a bit short.
Team goals are shared responsibilities. Those who pursue them with strong effort and good intentions are derelict of nothing.