Conflicting goals suck.
Like tonight. A conflicting goal, conflicting measures, conflicting options.
Conflicting goals suck because they turn the clarity of black and white into infinite variations of gray. The decision is muddled because you can’t only consider two options. When there are conflicting remedies, you are screwed because you inevitably must choose the lesser of two evils which in turn means that you must consider a variety of other factors besides the main ones: A and B. If A and B do not conflict, you are free to make your choice based solely on the characteristics of A or B. If A and B are mutually exclusive, you’re gold. If A and B mesh and share outcomes, it’s time to start thinking and trusting in the precious interplay of intellect and instinct. It’s something like what I detailed the other day when I explained the process by which I attempted to essentially state in clearly polar terms the logical process by which I decide between two computers which offer a host of options but in chaotic and indirect and humanly indecipherable proportions. It’s like taking a little of This, a little of That, which incidentally don’t correspond cleanly, and standardizing them against the yardstick of common criteria in order to make an A and a B out of the previously indistinguishable tratis, thus allowing me clear-cut choice. Making them mutuallly exclusive.
Tonight was cold by L.A. standards. Damp and about 55ish. I was hungry, lazy, and out of milk. After I got home, I jumped in my car and drove to the ghetto market to pick up milk and other assorted refrigerated items. After that, I drove through a Del Taco where I was handed a piping hot brown paper bag etched in their signature logo. I bundled it tightly as I drove out of the parking lot for I hate cold food, especially cold fries and cold melted cheese. Also, I had a carton of milk which had been sitting in my car for a few minutes. Normally, on a cold night I might put the cold floor vent on and let it point at my milk if I didn’t plan on going home directly; or I might turn the vents on warm and point them at the food in order to keep it warm as possible on this cold night. But as I drove, it occurred to me I was faced with conflicting motives. I didn’t dare turn the heat up in order to keep the food warm because the milk had been out a while and I didn’t want to expose it to heat. On the other hand, I didn’t want to put the cold air vent on in order to keep the milk cool because I didn’t want my food getting cold. Conflicting motives. Favoring one option hampers the other. Which do you choose?
You must weigh many variables and allow your instinctual choice to be heard.
In my case, money is most important. Do I shortchange the money I spent on dinner or do I squander the money I spent on the milk’s shortened life span.
Many times at work I notice that interdepartmental and interdivisional motives, ostensibly neutered by the non-existent concept of “teamwork” which is so lovingly parroted by the rah-rah managers, still manifest themselves in such self-interested levels of raw competition and one-upsmanship that all motives prove to be unwilling partners. What is good for A is not always good for B in the work place. This necessitates that B places the well-being of the organization above all and sacrifices its aims to A, since utlimately, they both “win.”
Teamwork is dead in the corporate world. How can it thrive in a realm where conflicting motives are encouraged and self-interest is valued above all else?