Non-human resources.

This is one of those blogs that could well have become a bridge-burning type of thing, but thankfully a hot bath and a Xanax put me in a more reasonable state of mind.

I’d simply like to say that my two decades of experience in the workforce have impressed upon me that there is nothing more ironic than the phrase Human Resources. I’ve discovered that invariably people in Human Resources are anything but human, or at least ultimately incapable of behaving in a humane fashion.

Human Resources people care about people. Specifically, these people:

Anyone else is secondary. What matters to Human Resources people is the bottom line. If a human being happens to adversely affect the bottom line, they are summarily discharged. And I don’t even refer to sub-par behavior or a demeanor unsuited to the workplace on the part of the employee. What I mean is that Human Resources people sit in their offices late at night with adding machines, reading glasses perched studiously on the tips of their noses, and if the bottom line can be improved by removing a name from the payroll, so be it.

Note I said name, not human being. Because in the eyes of Human Resources people, a name is merely a random assortment of vowels and consonants that adds up to a particular dollar figure. A name does not represent a human being who relies on their job to keep a roof over their head or food on the table; a name merely represents a cog in the machine, one that will be removed post haste if said machine can run reasonably well in its absence.

I read Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand during the summer, and as I mentioned previously it was a watershed event in my life. If you can read Atlas Shrugged and walk away without your life and outlook either radically changed or dramatically reinforced, then you should sell the book to a used book store and go back to peeling your eyelids back and watching hours of wholesome, hilarious prime-time television. I think According to Jim is on tonight.

Atlas Shrugged is an unapologetic homage to capitalism, and the book had a twofold effect on me. First, it made it painfully clear that capitalism is vital to the survival of our nation, indeed our world, and that anyone who seeks to sidle the successful with insurmountable hurdles is shooting themselves and their fellow man, whom they profess to love and respect, in the foot. I have blogger pals who make a cottage industry of bashing "big business" and the "evil rich," but I hope and sometimes even believe that eventually they'll understand. The poor may be deified in certain circles, but after 20 years of labor I can honestly say I've never had a paycheck signed by a poor person.

However, the other effect that Atlas Shrugged had on me was creating anger. Anger that this is how life has to be. In the book, as in our society, a dollar sign is slapped on everything. Literally everything. Atlas Shrugged makes a wonderful point about money; money is a tangible representation of the labor of an individual. I’ve long scratched my balding pate over the whole money thing and about how complicated economics can be. Reading Atlas Shrugged made it clear that money is a useful thing.

My contention, however, is that when a society gets to the point where human lives are literally viewed in strictly monetary terms, then that society is not long for this earth. A good case and point was a recent radio show about the Avian Flu in Asia. A caller suggested that an immediate quarantine on flights from Asia should be enforced to prevent the possible spread of the disease to America. The host laughed the caller off and said “Yeah, we want to lose China as a valuable trade partner.”

In other words, millions dead from Avian Flu is one thing. Ensuring that we have an adequate supply of Tickle Me Elmo’s (assembled for slave wages by children younger than the ultimate recipients, ironically) for next year’s holiday rush is quite another thing. Yes, the human toll would be staggering, sobering and saddening, but more detrimental still would be disrupting our precious economy.

Today I learned that when push comes to shove I am a series of figures on an Excel spreadsheet. I am not a human being; I am a number that affects the bottom line. Late night number-crunching and covert meetings resulted in the removal of a column from a spreadsheet, a column that represented yours truly, a living, breathing human. The bottom line is healthier now and I am suddenly much wiser, though as this blog has illustrated for time immemorial, wisdom is not always a pleasant thing.

To paraphrase the movie American Splendor, I’d trade some of this character for a little happiness.

By the way, lest regular readers be concerned I am not without an income. I am now with a significantly smaller income, but I am working.