I don’t know whose bright idea it was, but the person who came up with the concept of the open office deserves to be severely punished. How about a sentence of 40 years, working in an
open office?
Whoever the offender turns out to be, you can be sure they were in a private office when they came up with the concept. I can see the PowerPoint now.
“Down With Doors!” is the battle cry on slide No. 1, followed by “Synergy!”, “Collaboration!”, “Teamwork!” and a dozen other business school buzzwords. The truth, however, is that the concept came from a TV commercial. It’s the one in which chocolate collides with peanut butter, the accidental collab resulting in a classic candy confection that some people — for some reason — actually like.
If it works for Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, it has to work for offices.
It might have actually turned out that way, had it not been for one fatal flaw: the cacophony rising from all these chance encounters, plus the noise pollution produced by a room full of coughs, sneezes, phone calls, gossip, chitchat, banter and badinage in the gen pop make it simply impossible to get any work done.
“Work Friend” columnist Rachel Dry describes the earache of the open office in “Quiet! I’m Working Here,” a recent article in The New York Times. Answering a question from an inhabitant of an open office with “no privacy, no ability to shut a door and focus,” the “Work Friend” searches for an answer for those “constantly interrupted by folks who want something or who are chatterboxes.”
No question, being forced to sit in the midst of Chatty Cathys and Noisy Norberts is a problem for people trying to work. It’s even worse for people who are trying not to work and require peace and quiet to successfully goof off. Here are four strategies that could work when you don’t want to.
No. 1: Shut Your Ears.
Stuffing your ears with teeny-tiny earbuds or covering them with noise-cancelling earphones the size of tuna fish cans, will mute some of the noise pollution in an open office. Prepare to be asked what you are listening to. If it’s a political podcast, expect to alienate 50 percent of your co-workers. If it’s “Don’t Mess with Me When I’m Jellyfishing,” or any of the SpongeBob oeuvre, prepare to alienate 100 percent. Might as well admit you’re a major fan of romances and are deep into “A Court of Thorns & Roses.” Make sure the uninitiated know it isn’t a story about the HR department.
If pods and buds don’t do the job, buy a diving helmet — these 30-pound behemoths cover your entire head, making it clear that you do not want to be disturbed. You’ll enjoy total silence as you explore the depths of the office floor, but watch out for sharks.
No. 2: Own Your (Quiet) Zone.
Office pods, focus rooms and huddle rooms offer private space for critical business meetings, like huddling with co-workers to discuss ways to get your supervisor fired, or focusing on high-level phone calls to competitors to set up job interviews. An office pod is also useful for calling your BFF to discuss the most effective hemorrhoid cream.
The problem with quiet spaces is that your time is limited. The answer is not to simply go in, but actually move in. Make a reservation for 9 a.m. on Monday. Pack a suitcase with the clothes you’ll need for the week. Don’t forget your bathrobe. You’ll need it when you go to the bathroom or the coffee machine (If anyone questions why you’re working in your bathrobe, explain you’re in IT.) If your co-workers notice you’ve moved into a pod, explain that you are working on a top-secret project and cannot be disturbed. After a while, they will forget you exist.
No. 3: They’re Loud. You Be Louder.
If you can’t beat them, bang them into submission. Invest in a drum set and don’t skimp on the congas, maracas and cowbells (every office needs more cowbells.) If salsa music is not your bag, go classical. Everyday workplace chatter can be distracting, but nothing says “Please shut up” better than the finale of the 1812 Overture, played with a flourish of flying mallets on a giant kettledrum positioned in your space at the communal hot desk.
When the symphony is finished, soak in the silence and try to ignore the applause that follows. Just don’t forget to take a bow.
You deserve it.
Bob Goldman was an advertising executive at a Fortune 500 company. He offers a virtual shoulder to cry on at bob@bgplanning.com
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