Respect – Page 4 – The Frustrated CFO

CFO Folklore: A Dumb Boss Can Ask Questions That Will Leave a Wise CFO Stunned

A Boss comes to his CFO. In his hand he carries a report bound into a vinyl cover with a clear front. The CFO recognizes the presentation booklet she prepared for prospective institutional lenders and private financiers (the company is in the process of restructuring its operating capital). This particular one is the Boss's personal hard copy: the CFO notices his doodles, scribbles, and squiggles right there on the title page.

The Boss gives the booklet to the CFO, "I've met these two guys yesterday over drinks at the Harvard Club. I didn't quite understand what they do, but I want to send them this. They wanted it electronically. Can we send it as a whole? I forwarded you their email addresses."

"Of course," she replies, "It's been combined into one file."

"But I've added a few pages."

The CFO skims through the presentation and sees that amid her slick statements, tasteful tables, and vivid charts, there are three pages of text she's never seen before. She feels the habitual wave of anger she has learned to hide deep inside a long time ago. She bites her tongue and doesn't tell him that the unprofessional pale blue arial font he chose clashes with the aesthetics of her report and that his text is too verbose. She just looks him in the eyes and says, "Just send me your Word file and I will incorporate the pages."

"Files," he corrects her.

The CFO nods silently. It's clear to her: a separate file for every page – three pages, three files. If they were all in the same file, he wouldn't be able to print them separately. It would be too difficult for him.

The Boss still lingers. "But are the pages all going to be, like, that scanned type?" he grimaces.

"I'm not planning on scanning anything, but yes, I will convert the Word pages into the PDF and insert them into the presentation, which is a PDF file itself."

"But then I will not be able to edit my pages if I want to," the Boss's tone is a mix of whining and irritation, as if the CFO makes his life difficult. (Which she does, by the way: He always thought of himself as a brilliant man, but this bitch knows too much, understands everything quicker, and her level of expertise and professional standards makes him feel inadequate in HIS OWN COMPANY, for crying out loud.)

"Well, technically if you have Adobe® Acrobat® XI you can edit any PDF file." She thinks for a split second whether she should go on, then continues: "We can also insert the PDF as an object into Word. Then you can edit your pages. However, it will most likely, screw up the entire layout of the presentation, which is not good in case someone decides to print it. I really do not recommend this."

It all sounds like Chinese to the Boss, who, shockingly, doesn't speak a word of it, even though he used to have a business and lived in Hong Kong – for 25 years, no less.

"I don't know how to use any of that," he says, "Can't you just insert my Word pages without converting them into your presentation?" (It almost sounds as if he is about to say, "Is that too much to ask?")

This is just too funny, but the CFO keeps her face in check. She decides that she's had enough of this conversation and it's time to stop explaining: "No, even I cannot perform that sort of magic" she says, "It has to be either Word, or Excel, or PDF file. And PDF is the format of preference in this case."

"Oh, Okay." The Boss leaves.

Now, the CFO smiles to herself. And at that moment she realizes the true cause of her dissatisfaction with this job. It's not this heightened level of irritation. It's not even the fact that she's undervalued and underpaid. It's the unfairness of life that forces professionals like her to work for dilettantes like her boss.

Hard-Working CFO Is Not a Don Quixote

As we already discussed, people like me (not only CFOs and Controllers, but anyone of the same makeup) work hard because they cannot operate any other way. We do it out of self-respect. If we undertake a job with its multitude of functions we try our best to adhere to our own high standards of work ethics.

Does this mean that we are idealists of the Don Quixote persuasion? Will we sacrifice merit-based rewards for the sake of doing the job that makes us proud? Will we let our bosses to take advantage of our self-drive and pay us peanuts?

No, no and no. If that what you gathered from Why Do I Work So Hard?, you grossly misunderstood me. Don’t forget that we first accept a job, but once we do, we start working hard. And the compensation should be adequate.

The thing is, though, we know this about ourselves. We know that we will do our best for the employer and we know that, unless something we cannot control ourselves happens, the company will benefit from our efforts tremendously. So, don’t forget that: reflect it in your resumes, your cover letters, your conversations with hiring managers.

And if you made a conscious choice of working in a privately owned business, you actually have an opportunity to present yourself to the people who care about the company’s well-being the most – the owners. Let them know that you adhere to high level of work ethics. It will make a difference and it can be used as a negotiating point.

{Side note: my experience shows that stressing these points with recruiters or HR managers will be wasteful and frequently detrimental to your ability to move to the next level of interviewing process. These people are employees, you don’t know their attitudes towards the job and they may feel threatened.}

A quick word of warning: never say, “I am the best thing that will ever happen to your company.” First of all, you cannot guarantee that because there are a lot of circumstances that can negate your diligent efforts. Secondly, I was told by many a psychologists that these types of statements are classified as “over-compensating” and usually signal lack of confidence. Instead, present your case based on your prior achievements and relate them to your dedication.

Of course, the salary negotiations are tricky and influenced by many circumstances: the job market conditions, whether you are currently employed, whether this job is a real stepping stone in your career, etc. Nevertheless, that would be true for all applicants, but if you are indeed a naturally hard-working person like me, you have an edge.

Hopefully, by the time a raise and/or a bonus discussion comes up, your reputation will be solidified and you will be rewarded for your efforts. If you still need to negotiate, you will have a chance to talk about your present, not past, achievements.

And here I would like to refer you to the following The Ladders article, which directly addresses the issue of Salary Negotiation.

Warning: Unpunishable Plagiarism

Plagiarism – the wrongful appropriation or purloining, and publication as one’s own, of the ideas, or the expression of the ideas (literary, artistic, musical, mechanical, etc.) of another.

OED, Vol. 11: 947

As OED’s definitions go, this one is pretty straightforward: you create something, another person passes it as his own – that’s wrong. It is also linguistically polite. Authors unrestricted by the structural conventions of dictionaries, can be more blunt about it. Late Alexander Lindey, a copyright attorney and author, in his 1951 Plagiarism and Originality wrote: “Plagiarism is literary – or artistic or musical – theft.”

Note that OED’s definition includes both
ideas and their expressions. Legally, however, only actual products are protected. The United States Copyright Office clearly states:

“Copyright does not protect ideas, concepts, systems, or methods of doing something. You may express your ideas in writing or drawings and claim copyright in you description, but be aware that copyright will not protect the idea itself as revealed in written or artistic work.”

To simplify: Copying Van Gogh’s Sunflowers to a stroke and passing it as your own work is illegal, but producing endless still-lifes of vases with flowers in Van Gogh’s style is absolutely OK. By the same token, reproducing somebody’s words verbatim without giving a proper citation is plagiarism, but recasting somebody’s original idea with your own words, details, and attributes cannot be legally challenged.

Generally speaking, the intention behind the exclusion of ideas from the copyright protection is founded in the possibility of several people coming up with the same thought at the same time. This indeed happens from time to time. However, more frequently than not, the law, as it stands right now, makes what I call an unpunishable plagiarism an okay thing.

Of course, it is infrequent that someone copies a painting, or steals a score from another musician’s computer. Actions like that can lead to criminal and/or civil law suits. From time to time, we hear about people being expelled from schools or lose their jobs and professional creditability on account of plagiarism.

Sometimes, such allegations are unfounded and cleverly used to mar the innocent competition. The fabulous Alan Rickman, whose character in the Broadway production of Theresa Rebeck’s Seminar became a victim of such a scam, moaned with all the heart-wrenching pain his ample talent was capable to deliver: “Oh, to be accused of such a thing…” For him it’s the worst possible shame. A rare man!

However, when it comes to original ideas, only individual morals stand between one person’s precious imaginative jewel and another person’s grabby hand. Unfortunately, morality being what it is in the present time, theft of the original ideas is far more common than pickpocketing and purse snatching. As originality becomes more and more of a deficit, the stealing of it becomes more and more pervasive. I personally don’t care whether it’s legal or not. To me it’s worse than a theft – it’s an intellectual rape, a snatching of babies born in a torrent of a creative labor.

In business environments it happens every day. Those who watch NBC’s popular series Grimm know that the show’s core feature is to give a fairy-tale spin to contemporary life. In a second season’s episode Nameless, a video game company celebrates the development of a groundbreaking code. Everyone involved in the programming of this extraordinary algorithm stands to make millions. As it turns out, however, none of the people taking credit for it had actually authored the breakthrough idea. It was appropriated by the team leader from a tech guy who came to reboot her system and offered the brilliant solution in exchange for a date. Not only that she had no qualms about accepting the praise and the rewards, she wasn’t planning to keep the date promise either. She didn’t even remember the guys name.

Whether in business or arts, the worst idea thieves are your peers, especially those who work with you. Trust me, I know it first-hand. One such incident occurred during my time as a high-tech CFO. We were preparing for a teleconference with our venture-capital investors. My fellow board member, the VP of Marketing, strolled into my office and asked for my opinion about the topics to be discussed. You know, at the time the Internet companies were marked by a sense of democracy and camaraderie. So, I let my guard down and laid out my thoughts. All these years later, I still remember the shock I felt, when this guy took the lead of the meeting and repeated everything I told him verbatim, without giving me any credit, of course.

It goes without saying that the world of arts and entertainment is a fucking snake pit that lives by the motto “Everybody steals.” It’s pretty much an every-day practice.

No matter how many musicians and fans scorned Vanilla Ice’s shameless “re-phrasing” of the Queen/Bowie genius bass riff, “Ice Ice Baby” made millions, was nominated for a Grammy and won the American Music Award. It only got worse since. I happened to personally know a human equivalent of a music encyclopedia, and I constantly hear from her: “Wait a minute, I already heard this on…”

In Woody Allen’s Vicky, Christina, Barcelona Penelope Cruz’s character Maria Elena bluntly states that Juan Antonio (Javier Bardem), a commercially successful artist, stole his entire painting style from her. First, he reluctantly acknowledges that, yes, she was “influential,” and later admits that “maybe he took from her more than he likes to admit.” Really? With a hint of sarcasm Maria Elena says: “It’s okay. We worked side by side for many years, and you adopted my vision of the world as your own.”

Speaking of movies, it’s impossible to get an unknown writer’s script into a decision-maker’s hands. 99% of studios and production companies do not accept unsolicited (i.e. not represented by an agent) material. And even if you do get someone to read your script or to hear your pitch, the first thing you will need to do is to sign a legal document promising that you will never-ever sue that entity for stealing your idea. Why? Because, if they don’t like the script but like the idea, they will most definitely steal it.

There is this tiny (in terms of viewership – $342K gross) Craig Lucas’s movie called The Dying Gaul (2005). It is a feeble attempt to expose Hollywood’s perversity and corruption. In spite of the presence of indy VIP’s Campbell Scott, Patricia Clarkson, and Peter Sarsgaard, whose pull must be responsible for a $4 million budget, the movie is an unremarkable failure. (Let’s be honest, ever since Robert Altman’s The Player (1992), you really need something extraordinary up your sleeve to embark on this theme.) Yet, the film has one valuable tidbit of a real truth in it: When the main character refuses to change his script from a tragic gay love story into a heterosexual romance, the big-time producer with a $1 million check in his hand warns, “If you refuse, you will walk out of here with nothing, and I will give your story to someone else to rewrite.”

But don’t think that only the unknown writers fall victims to Tinseltown’s shameless pilfering of ingenuity. The moment I saw a poster for Night in the Museum, I had a bizarre thought that Ben Stiller somehow managed to convince Gore Vidal to lend the movie a brilliant plot device from his novel The Smithsonian Institution (1998) . You see, it was Vidal who made the historical characters come to life, most notably Teddy Roosevelt (but not dinosaurs). Apparently, I was not the only one who noticed the uncanny similarity: the great writer himself openly spoke about it in various media. Of course, he wasn’t going to attempt any legal action – he’s been around the block way too many times (his first publication is dated 1946 and his oeuvre includes 14 screenplays).

Some occurrences of unpunishable plagiarism are simply ridiculous. In 2007, Joe Swanberg (another semi-known indy writer/director) made a practically unseen ($23K gross) movie called Hannah Takes the Stairs: Hannah (Greta Gerwig), a recent college graduate, is an intern and an aspiring writer, who is cruising from a relationship to relationship, trying to find her direction in life. Hmm… Wait a minute… Doesn’t this Hannah live on HBO now? Wasn’t she shoved into everyone’s face by the hipster media for the past 18 months or so? Wasn’t she supposed to be an alter ego of her “oh-so-original” creator, a “genius” on the list of “100 Most Influential People,” the one whose name I promised not to mention in my posts anymore? A coincidence? Nope. If anyone did see the 2007 movie, it would be this HBO’s you-know-who. After all, she is a friend and a collaborator (Nobody Walks) of Ry Russo-Young, who co-starred in Hannah Takes the Stairs.

Speaking of those Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, it is my firm opinion that the biggest scrounger in fictional writing ever is J.K. Rowling. Don’t get me wrong, I love Harry Potter, but that woman sponged her material off everything she ever read (granted, she is a very well-read person). Let’s not drown ourselves in the boundless sea of magical names representing wizardly attributes: Lupin = wolf (Latin); Sirius = dog (Latin via Greek); Severus = serious, strict (Latin); Dumbledore = stream of gold (a combination of “dumble” – a Nottinghamshire local for a forested stream, and French “d’Or”), etc., etc., etc., etc. Instead, I’d like to point out a few very specific items:

Let me remind you that in 1961 Roald Dahl wrote a very popular book James and the Giant Peach about an orphan boy James Henry Trotter (Harry James Potter, anyone?!), whose loving parents were destroyed by a brutal rhino and who is forced to live with cruel aunts until a magician helps him to get out.
In Gaudy Night Dorothy Sayers’s lead character Harriet Vane describes her alma mater, Oxford’s Shrewsbury College, as an incredibly confusing place with seemingly moving stairs.
During Victorian times, British citizens started depositing their money in the banks in increasing numbers. Funny, they developed a slang term for the sovereigns the deposited – they called them “goblins.”

Actually, my list is so long, I can write another book. How about “Harry Potter Genesis, Or Did J.K. Rowling Come Up With Any Original Ideas?”

Obviously, I am very apprehensive about the usurping tendencies all around us. I know talented young people bursting with artistic ideas. Extraordinary pearls of originality simply roll off their tongues. It’s painful to admit it, but instead of enjoying their creativity, I behave like a robotic warning machine: “Keep it to yourself! Don’t share it with anybody! Stop dropping your pearls publicly! Why did you post that brilliant thing on fucking facebook?!” I know it makes me sound like a paranoid maniac (and it makes me feel real shitty), but what else can I do to protect them? Their artistic expressions are incredibly unique. Their verbiage is so catchy, their “friends” not only repeat it, but have the gall to claim it for themselves.

How can we possibly control this? How can we safeguard the originality? We can’t: There is no legal way and most humans lost any shreds of shame a long time ago. The only way to protect your ideas is to constantly convert them into products, so that you can stake your ownership via the copyright. And even then, as examples above show, you are not secured from various brands of scavengers.

This Is What It Feels Like When the CFO Cries

When I was a little girl, a preteen, a teenager, my parents always teased me, "Why are you crying? Feeling sorry for yourself?" I could've been weeping about some really heart-breaking moment in my life or over a beautiful passage in a book – it didn't matter, their reaction was always the same.

Well, if that was their way of toughening me up, it worked. But discouraging crying? Nah, their badgering wasn't successful - I'm still a crier. Blatant injustices, the disappearance of Earth's beauty, the unfairness of life; but also a goosebumpy music passage, a powerful piece of acting, an especially brilliant bit of storytelling, a rare instance of mesmerizing artistry – all are known to bring quick tears to my eyes.

But all these occasions allow me to cry secretly – in a privacy of my home; in the darkness of a theater; sometimes in the middle of a crowded place, where nobody knows me (which is the same as being alone); or in front of a few people (can count them on one hand), who are so close to me, most of the time we cry about the same things. To the rest of the world, however, I'm known as Marina of Steel, always composed and together. In fact, most people think that I am a gruff bitch. The mother-fuckers would probably have panic attacks if they saw me all snotty and whimpering - the way I get, when I fight with my daughter.

In my entire career there were only a few occasions, when, while in the office, I simply couldn't hold back tears – the ducts just acted on their own accord, the way they do when you get hit on the nose. One time, during a meeting, my CEO threw some reports straight into one of my subordinate's face, and I couldn't do anything about it: couldn't protect the victim, couldn't say anything to the boss – just had to watch it happening. I remember thinking, "God, if somebody else did that in front of me, I would've fucking slapped him. But I have to pretend that I'm paralyzed, because I need my job! It hurts!" And the tears just rolled out involuntary.

Nearly 20 years ago (God! I was still young then!), a different boss, always insecure about his origins and education, got angry with me, because he forgot to request some analysis he urgently needed, yet expected that I would telepathically infer his wishes. I was already a Controller and have accomplished some pretty amazing stuff for the company (for which, truth be told, I was very well compensated). So, I felt pretty secure to simply explain that he never asked for it. To this he retorted: "You're probably lying that you were always a straight A student. No doubt your mother bribed your teachers." There were other people around too, listening… The randomness and the absurdity of the insult hit me like a ton of bricks. I was lost for words and my eyes just swelled with tears. Nothing was to be done or said, of course – my family's well-being was much higher on my list of priorities than my self-esteem.

Just the other day, a business owner, who was my torturer-in-chief at that moment (he is the one who thinks himself a Good Boss), demanded some pretty serious piece of performance analytics to be delivered to him the next day, before his meeting with X. Considering the available resources, this was impossible to accomplish. So, I informed him accordingly. And yes, I'm too fed up with all this bullshit now, so I let a bit of a sarcasm escape me: "How long have you known about this meeting anyway?" I asked him. "Let me explained to you the idiocy (Miriam-Webster: extreme mental retardation) of this question," he replied and then embarked on a long-winded rant about… Well, who cares? And I wasn't listening anymore. I wanted to laugh, but somehow sparse teardrops started falling down instead. Thank God, I cried – at least it stopped his blabbering and he left the room.

Yeah, things like that… So, it's true – I cry because I feel sorry for myself. I'm sorry that my life is nothing what I hoped it would be. I'm sorry that I don't have enough time to do things that I truly love. I'm sorry that I always work harder than anybody else would in my place and the rewards never match my efforts. I'm sorry that I always work for people who are not sophisticated enough to understand my value and appreciate my contribution. I'm sorry that they always turn out to be insecure assholes. I'm sorry that, even though I held them in my hands, I let all the means of my personal security slip away. I'm sorry about so many of my choices that led me to where I am…

…What is that you are saying? A pity party? So what if it is? Nobody else pities me – everyone thinks that I'm some fucking stone.

Top Female Execs Tell Us Whether It's OK To Burst Into Tears At Work

“We Are Good Bosses,” Says One Boss to Another

So, that's how these people manage to live with their own shitty selves! They walk around with a clear conscience; with no doubt in their souls about their actions. They don't think about the injustices and the insults of different caliber they spread around with every step they take. They don't even qualify them as injusticies and insults. Instead, they pat each other on the backs and tell themselves that they are good bosses! Their self-delusion probably goes even further: I am terrified to think about it, but they might have convinced themselves that they are good people. Honestly, the idea of these people going through their lives thinking that they are saints makes my skin itch on the inside.

To tell you the truth, I prefer honest assholes, like the ones whose primary traits are itemized in the list provided by the Time's article attached on the bottom of this post. They are at least somewhat conscious of their attitudes and justify their behavior with the "business necessity." You know: A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do – that sort of thing. I also think that self-aware bastards are less casual with their cruelty. Unless they are real sadists, they apply it knowingly and, therefore, sparingly.

The conversation quoted in the title is not an allegory: I actually had the misfortune of witnessing it. I had to summon all my will power not to burst out laughing at these jerks. I've had pangs of suspicion that many business owners felt good about themselves, but this was the first time one of them actually voiced such self-deception in my presence. Why was it so bitterly funny? Because, the statement was prompted by their finally adapting a pension plan they promised their employees two years ago.

These are employers who pick favorites and treat them with an obvious preference, while discriminating against others. They forget to disclose new commercial initiatives, thus forcing everyone to run against time in order to turn their ideas into business realities. They will not hesitate to make a "good-natured" joke at an employee's expense or brazenly comment on someone's deficiency. The list can go on, and on, and on, and on… What can I say? Swell guys!

But let's see. What are (in my opinion) the attributes of a really Good Boss???

1. Fairness and objectivity; no bullshit like, "I don't like that bitch's personality, so I don't care if she's going to leave, even if it'll hurt my company."

2. Dedication to a merit-based system of rewards comprised of both tangible and moral incentives.

3. Intelligence and business acumen that perpetuates the company's success and keeps employees gratified that they don't work for an incompetent idiot.

4. High performance standards applied equally to everyone – first and foremost to his/her own work.

5. Capacity to fully comprehend the abilities and values of their direct reports.

6. Sufficient organizational savvy to match subordinates' abilities with functional tasks.

7. Acceptance of personal responsibility as a job-creator and human-resources leader.

8. Strong emphasis on the development of employees' know-how and professional growth.

9. Balanced combination of delegation and efficient supervision; none of that hands-off micromanagement crap I write so much about.

10. An actual effort to understand people working for the company.

11. Sufficient tact and self-confidence (!) to prevent casual personal insults, usually resulting from deeply seated insecurity.

12. And this one is just for me: For once in my life I would like to work for someone with a good memory, because I'm fucking fed up with their forgetting time after time the stuff I say, write, and report to them.

So, my dear business owners and other chiefs, try to test your performance against the criteria above and see how you do. None of the "good bosses" I know would score enough for a "D" grade.

9 Core Beliefs of Truly Horrible Bosses

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this: