Killing the fluffy bunnies

The Germans didn’t learn from Napolean and we didn’t listen to ol’ Nappy Ulcer Boy either. And we’re all about to pay for it. While we may not freeze to death in Russian winter, we have certainly walked down the road of overextension and we are about to reach the great destination called simple failure.

That lead could easily be interpreted as an unpatriotic rant about America’s war on terror. But it is not. I am not educated in the finer points of American foreign policy. However, in the last three years I have received a bare knuckle education in the great failure of corporate America. Out of the mouth/fingers of this babe comes a dire prediction:

We are losing a fight against ourselves.

Three years ago my employer became a subsidiary/lap dog of a hyphenated corporate giant. We raised a giant flag of optimism over our hung-out shingle. We prettied ourselves up for our customers. Our giant spent hundreds of millions of dollars buying everything that was for sale. We had brothers and sisters all over the country working for a common cause. We were cross breeds of a worker bee and a fluffy bunny. And if the world wasn’t our oyster, it was at the very least a nice clam fit for frying.

It wasn’t long before the giant was in Russia and the December winds were beginning to howl. The supplies dried up. The giant canceled the holiday bonus. It cut the number of allowable sick days in half. The cost of living raise became laughable and the fluffy bunnies were only allowed enough extra money to pay for part of the company’s insurance plan–which incidentally had doubled in cost.

We fluffy bunnies continued to work hard. It will all get better, the giant promised…even has it handed down unfunded mandates. Even though the corporate empire seemed to be collapsing under its own weight, the company produced pretty newsletters and promotional videos aimed at stockholders. The fluffy bunnies noticed their eyebrows reaching a peak. Funny how a company that always considered its customers first was now including stockholders in its mission statement.

That’s when it started to get ugly.

I can only carry the fluffy bunny analogy so far without seeming silly, so I’m going to put this as simply as possible. We are all turning on each other. It is cannibalism. It is mutiny. It is a strawberry fascination and rotting sides of beef.

The brass don’t respect the middle management. The middle management are handcuffed and can’t respect the underlings. And the underlings (see: fluffy bunnies) are slowly dissecting each other…disrespecting the hard work of others, looking out for number one, and trying to figure out how they ended up getting screwed. If we were a sports team, the papers would diagnose our team as having that age old affliction: Low Morale.

I have to believe it is not just our industry. As corporate giants buy up smaller companies, buy more, make less, and try to do more with less, everyone suffers…the employee, the company, and most importantly…the customers.

I am a capitalist. I believe in the rules of supply and demand. I believe in the entrepreneurial spirit. I don’t think there is another system as great as ours.

However, the fates may have discovered a chink in the capitalist armor. Capitalism has a really good chance of eating itself. Our system of free enterprise may be failing. We don’t want the government to run our businesses, hospitals, television stations, etc. But it may be worth asking…are corporate empires any better for a free enterprise system than government running things.

Ultimately, I supposed we are forced to say yes, corporate empires are better than government. The free enterprise system runs on its own engine and if there isn’t a market for the corporate empire, it will die on its own.

I suppose the coal miners, auto workers, and textile employees of decades ago probably had it a lot worse. Black lung, lost arms, lost lives…all working under corporate giants that made fortunes on the backs of hard working denizens of a growing society.

But as I sit in the fluffy bunny cage, warily eying the other bunnies to make sure they don’t gnaw off my ear, I wonder if I’m watching the end of something very grand. And if I am watching the end, will I end up going down with the ship.

I’m going to go find a piece of lettuce to nibble on.