The Dreaded Committee

Pray to your Gods you never have to deal with something as cretinous as a committee.  I have recently come to a place that has one of these for the community.  They don’t call it a committee, but that’s what it is.  Several people from the area who get together and make decisions and plans for the future of this tiny, insignificant place we all live in like it’ll fucking matter in a few years when we’re all dead.  I hate committees.

The reason I hate committees is that they are absolutely incapable of doing anything right.  Because almost everyone wants to be in charge, and I’m sure anyone with a shred of business-team-building-know-how (pro active multi directional leadership quantative SMART goal interpersonal) will be aware that this will result in disaster.  If everyone wants to be the co-ordinator, who is left to be the implementers?  In other words, too many managers, no workers.  Too many different goals, no direction.  Committees are shit, yes.  If you’re interested in team-building and that shit, here’s a link to the Belbin types –

http://www.belbin.com/rte.asp?id=8

The key to an effective team is to have clearly established roles and all members of said team playing to their individual strengths.  I have no examples of effective teams.  I have a few examples of terrible teams.  In college, we are all forced to put together a group project.  My team consisted of the borderline-soceiopathic Me (number crunching idea guy), the dictatorial Lone Female (the captain of this rat-infested ship), the big bad Idea Bully (second in command workhorse), and Mr might-as-well-be-a Plant (the ballast).  We started out OK, but once the real hard work began, here is a list of terrible things that happened.

1 – Our original idea is shot down by Idea Bully and we go back to fucking square one.

2 – No one can agree on the team logo.  Apparently I am the only one who thinks Solviet Russia was cool.  Arguments on this insignificant detail derail us from actual work for weeks.

3 – The Lone Female goes apeshit at everyone, saying she had to redo all of their work for the second piece.  She cuts almost all of mine, and rewrites everything Mr Plant put in.  We are not amused.

4 – The Lone Female continues to ruin everyone’s work and is increasingly obsessed with the format.  Idea Bully and Me suggest maybe working on the actual content is more important.

5 – We come up with three ideas, and have to make the project include all three, because we are now a committee and unable to shoot down Lone Female and Idea Bully’s incredibly stupid joint idea.  Not that mine was much better, but at least I didn’t go with fucking MAGNETS.  (Seriously, fucking magnets?!)

6 – Me and Mr Plant start avoiding group meetings and start only communicating by email.  This infuriates Lone Female, so we continue doing it for as long as possible.

7 – I plot on moving to another team, but it’s too late.  They say they’ll still take me, but I force myself to finish the godawful task at hand.

8 – With one week to go, me and Idea Bully get together to finish the entire project ourselves, as it turns out Lone Female has been doing nothing but obsessing over fonts and line spacing and Mr Plant is unavailable.  We churn out some terrible shit, and send it to Lone Female for polishing with less than 24 hours to deadline.

9 – While presenting the project, Mr Plant answered a question in such a manner as to make our idea completely, utterly and unquestionably redundant.  Thanks, dick.

10 – All our college grade averages are lowered by the marks recieved for that fucking project.

Our problem was clearly that Lone Female insisted on being the leader, but was not properly equipped to deal with it.  Idea Bully should probably have been the leader, but wouldn’t accept the responsibility.  My problem was (and probably still is) that I work better alone.  Having to deal with people bitching about what font we should be using and what should and should not be included drove me insane.  Mr Plant is beyond help.  He did fuck all.  Anyway, what was I talking about at the start?  Oh yeah, decision by committee.

So the local committee has reared it’s filthy head.  Decisions to build stuff are being made.  Meetings are being held.  These meetings are being held in a place that is too small so not everybody can go, so maybe just the heads of the committee should be going.  OK, now they’ve pissed people off, maybe there’s room for one person from each household?  But if they do that, maybe they won’t be able to get their opinions across and get all that stupid shit they want.  I have absolutely no idea what they want, but I know it must be something stupid since it’s wanted by a committee.  I leave you with my interpretation of how a committee operates (in list form, because it’s soooooo easy to write things in list form! – Advice to struggling wannabe blog posters right there).

On this committee, we have.

1 – Mr only-gives-a-shit-about-the Budget

2 – Mr idealistic Nincompoop, who might as well be tripping on mushrooms.

3 – Mrs been-on-the-committee Forever, who is incapable of giving a fuck anymore, but can’t leave because they are a “key figure” in the community or whatever.

4 – Mrs if-the-idea-isn’t-mine-I-don’t-like-it Runier of other people’s ideas

5 – Mr I-know-what’ll-make-it Better.  The planning application forbid it, he said “forbid this!” with his anus.

6 – Mr so-fucking-concerned-about Safety, who constantly watches the news in the hope a plane will crash and he’ll have more shit to worry about.

So there we have it.  The players in this epic game.  Today, the committee will be trying to build a sports centre.

Mr Budget suggests the most meagre basketball court.  Taken on board by everyone, as everyone likes basketball.

Mrs Idea ruiner insists that a swimming pool is essential.

Mr Nincompoop agrees that the basketball court should also be a swimming pool.

Mr Budget says it’s impossible.

Mr Safety agrees, as he’s just recently read an article about small children drowning.  Proceeds to recite the entire article to the group.

Mr Better thinks the swimming pool is good, but could it also be a jacuzzi?

Mr Budget says no, and tries to steer everyone back to the basketball court by saying it could be used for other sports.

Mr Nincompoop and Mrs Idea Ruiner suggest that the swimming pool could be used as an ice rink.  Everyone’s IQ drops by 10 points.

Mr Better goes to the toilet to think of an idea more retarded than turning a swimming pool into an ice rink.  Asks if anyone wants tea or coffee on his way out.  It takes 10 minutes for the tea/coffee situation to be resolved.

Mrs Forever asks to come to a conclusion, as she wants to get home in time to watch Broadchurch.  She does not have Sky+

Mrs Idea Ruiner and Mr Nincompoop demand a vote on the swimming pool issue.  Mr Budget and Mr Safety oppose.  Mr Better is in the toilet, but Mrs Idea Ruiner insists he’d vote for the pool/ice rink.

Mrs Forever asks Mr Budget what they’re voting for.  She votes for no pool, and makes it a tie.

Mr Safety wants to talk about possible mutilations that could happen on a basketball court.  Nobody allows him to do this.

Mr Better returns with tea and coffee.  Says that instead of a swimming pool, could they install a gym that doubles as a sauna?

Mr Safety grabs hold of the oppertunity to talk about sauna deaths.  Unfortunately for him, everyone else quite likes the sauna idea.

Mrs Idea Ruiner is slowly convinced that she came up with the sauna idea by suggesting a swimming pool, even though those are different things.  She shoves the sauna idea very much down everyone’s throats.

Mr Safety is very much opposed and is standing firm.  The group need to reach a compromise, as Broadchurch is about to start.

Mr Better suggests that, if it would please Mr Safety, the temperature of the sauna could be limited to 30 degrees, despite the fact this completely defeats the purpose of a sauna.  Mr Safety is brought on board.

Mr Budget announces that they can’t have the sauna, gym and basketball court.  They only have enough funding for one.

They settle on the 30 degree sauna.

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About harrypeat

I'm a happy-go-lucky chap with a zest for life and the resting heart rate of a yellowfin tuna. I love long walks on the beach at dusk, paintings of elderly couples, and vegan dinners by candlelight. As well as being a talented rhythmic jazz guitarist, I am a part-time vblogger and all-round gymnast.
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