As I write, I am sitting in the staff cafeteria in the basement of The Firm's offices. It's my fourth day on the job, and already I can see the cracks emerging in what might have been a picture-perfect job.
Day One was easy, of course. Most of the time was spent meeting with staff, being shown the loos, rustling through the stationery cupboard, and receiving some training. The Firm's office's span a sprawling multi-building campus just off Fleet Street, on a site that was once home to the printing presses of The Daiy Mail.
The present buildings are mostly new builds. Either way, as seems to be the case the world over, the I.T. Department was given scant afterthought and located in the basement. A glass-roofed atrium attempts to convey sunlight into the bowels of the building, but mostly the atrium is for show. Which is okay, because it looks really, really good. After all, what matters more than that at a law firm?
My team consists of around 8 people, and is responsible for the support for existing software applications. This is very different to how it worked at QR, where a software developer would design, write, test, implement, and then support the program he/she wrote. Here there is a team of analysts, a team of developers, a team of support staff etc. And that's great, because the assembly line approach allows people to focus full attention on a smaller part of the life cycle. The only problem is that assembly lines require adequate communication between the teams. The software needs to be documented, so that the next team understand what to do, and despite the expensive suits, and the steel and glass atrium, this simply isn't done. Even if it were done, believe me when I say that the least interesting place to work in software development is in doing support, because it's handling all the crap problems that users manage to find themselves in, without any of the glory of writing the solution in the first place. And so, right now, the support team is precisely where I am.
I didn't plan for this to happen. I was trained to be a software developer, which is where my experience lies, but the lack of local experience perpetuates the nexus of finding good I.T. jobs in London. Another antipodean developer (from South Africa), who we'll call NFG2, started the same day as me. We interviewed for the same job, and NFG2 got it, which is great for him because he's a lovely guy. It's just mildly annoying that he has 6 months experience in the latest stuff, and I have 2.5 years!! When NFG2 says stupid things and asks silly questions, I wonder how much he actually knows. But I suspect he interviewed a lot better than me, partly because I was nervous, and partly because I was very honest about my strengths and weaknesses... and that's why has a 12 month contract doing all of the team's interesting work, and I got the 3 month consolation. Still, I need the money (albeit a fraction of the good deal I thought I had) and The Firm needs someone to do crap work, so regardless of whether I renew beyond the three months, everyone wins right now.
I sit next to an Afrikaan guy, who reminds me of me at QR. After 5.5 years he can barely conceal his contempt for The Firm and his job. The Afrikaan is a subversive smart-arse. I think we're going to get on just fine. Nearby sits AstroNerd, the team's middle-aged resident nerd who's claim to fame is that he once self-published a book on astronomy. Nowadays AstroNerd mostly likes to scream obscenities as he battles his computer. But the good news is that apart from these occasional ejaculations, my team's workspace is library-quiet. Gone are the days of the noisy QR workstations.
The team is filled with the other usual suspects, like the the bookish woman programmer who ignores pretty much everything and gets on with the job. Then there is the well-meaning but totally weak and ineffectual guy who is our deputy team leader. I can't wait for him to bend under pressure and throw me to the lions when the shit hits the fan. Completing this picture is our heoric Team Leader, who closely resembles The Office character David Brent. This guy is fond of bad ties, rude haircuts, and coining terms like "communication conduit" to describe a monthly staff meeting.
One good thing about the management, is that they actually understand the work I do. Sounds simple enough, but for the entire seven years that I worked at QR, I never worked for a team leader or section manager who had experience doing the very work performed by the people he managed. Can you imagine the difficulties this caused?
The Firm makes oodles of cash. According to a recent newspaper article given to me by the Afrikaan, The Firm turns a 45% profit on its revenue. Either that's coming from high fees or employee's asses, but I'm betting that it's a bit of both.
Mind you, it's pretty easy to see the money just by walking around the complex. Everything is high-tech. Everyone has a brand-new computer with a 17" LCD screen, and most people also have a laptop. There are kitchens every thirty feet of office space, each containing free espresso machines, tea machines, fruit bowls, biscuit containers, the usual fridges and microwaves, and an LCD screen streaming cable news 24/7. These TV screens are everywhere. I can check the weather on my way to the bathroom, and believe me, there's nothing like watching violent war footage to get the blood pumping heading into a meeeting.
As is often the case these days at big companies, staff here are issued with security cards to access locked doors and floors. The difference being that at The Firm, every second door is locked! I have to unlock six locked doors just to get to the cafeteria.
The security cards also double as charge cards for the cafeteria. This is so cool. I deposit notes and cash in a vending machine, which adds the credit to my security card. Then at the cafeteria I buy a meal and wave my security card over a reader, which debits the transaction. Apart from the cash I feed the machine, it's a totally cashless society. The cafeteria seats 200 people, with hundreds more choosing takeaway. The menu changes every day, and the food is very inexpensive (for London) and very good. Perhaps because of the weather here, I've discovered that staff cafeterias are a big thing. And our cafeteria isn't a patch on the best out there. A friend of mine recently started at De Beers, and he tells me that their cafeteria is even more over the top. Three course meals, with desserts like that served in a top restaurant, and it's all completely free.
I find I'm often comparing the work and environment to QR. Here, the facilities are amazing, but the work is mired with red-tape, and the staff whine that they aren't being treated well. At QR, the facilities were very average, the work was interesting, but still the staff whined they weren't being treated well.
It seems that my three month contract will be spent doing all the crap work that the other workers have put off for months or years. My first task is to clean up a list of users in a software application. Of course, I ask all the stupid questions like "wouldn't it be easier to get this list from ActiveDirectory?" etc etc, and I'm told "no, that's not how we do things here". This task is something that started two years ago, and has passed through three other developers, without ever approaching completion. The funny thing is that while developers have been playing hot potato, the original problem is far worse now than it ever was.
Anyway, after a strenuous first day, trying to appear busy and look interested, I headed to the National Film Theatre at Waterloo, the repertory cinema centre run by the British Film Institute. That evening I watched Dr Strangelove, followed by a live Q&A session with the film's production designer, Ken Adam, who worked with Kubrick again on Barry Lyndon (inducing a nervous breakdown, but winning an Oscar for it). But Adam is probably best known for his work on many early Bond films, from Dr No to Moonraker. I'm a big fan, and have found him to be an interesting interview subject on DVD supplements, so it was a pleasure to hear him live.
Now well into his eighties, Adam's life reads like a novel. He was born into a fairly well-off Berlin family, that moved to England sometime before the start of WW2. While not an English citizen, Adam enlisted with the RAF, and has the distinction of being the only German to fly for England!
One of the best stories he told concerns Stanley Kubrick and the Bond picture, The Spy Who Loved Me. Adam was completing his huge supertanker set, at the time the largest and most expensive ever built. The set was so big the production team did not know if they could properly light it.
Concerned his work wouldn't be seen to best advantage, Adam asked Kubrick, a friend and previous collaborator, to help out. The director reluctantly agreed, but Adam had to promise to keep it a secret forever. Kubrick was terrified he'd be spotted by a Pinewood Studios worker, and the whole world would know he was secretly lighting Bond pictures... Whatever that means! Adam agreed to the deal, Kubrick visited the set, provided the crucial advice, the film was successful, and the whole thing remained a secret for many years... Until Adam attended a memorial dinner for Kubrick, a few years ago in the USA. Adam broke his promise and told the whole story, believing there to be no better way to honour the man who became one of the best directors of the 20th century.
Ken Adam didn't stay on stage for very long, and he seemed quite grumpy and unbelievably disinterested when he was signing books. I shelled out 25 quid for a copy and I don't thnk he even looked me in the eye, preferring to keep the assembly line moving! Still, like Tippi Hedren talking about Hitchcock a few years back at BIFF, I am very grateful for the opportunity to hear first-hand stories about the working habits of these remarkable directors.
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