Becoming a Master Office Brown-Noser is a Skill
17 August 2014
Read by 3164 persons
Brown-nosing is a science. Office flattery requires some prior knowledge. The first key rule: timing. In his book published by Leduc editions, Benjamin Fabre gives some practical advice. First part, choosing the perfect moment.
When to Brown-Nose?
Some moments are ideal for brown-nosing. Others, absolutely not. To avoid mistakes, keep this universal rule in mind: the happiness of the office worker increases with the prospect of leaving. In other words, brown-nosing Monday morning at 8 am is like trying to peel a carrot with your elbow. It's possible, but considering the effort, the result will be ridiculous.
Becoming a Master Office Brown-Noser is a Skill
7 pm is the perfect time to fish for compliments. But beware! After 7 pm, the office worker's mood plummets because from that moment on, they consider they have nothing left to do there. Except for workaholics and other specimens eager to escape a violent, adulterous, child-ruled, or simply empty family home.
Becoming a Master Office Brown-Noser is a Skill
Where to Brown-Nose?
Depending on whether you brown-nose in the boss's office or at the coffee machine, you won't get the same results. Consult this diagram before embarking on your flattery work. Excerpt.
Again, the principles are elementary but need to be stated. The playing field of brown-nosing isn't as vast as you imagine. In reality, it's more or less confined to the office of you-know-who, and in all other places, I urge you to beware of anything that remotely resembles colleagues, assistants, bacteria, crawling animals, or even walls.
* Situation 1: Your doctor puts you on sick leave
Description of the situation: It's not their fault; it's their job. They listened to your heart. They took your blood pressure. They stuck a cotton swab down your throat. Then they murmured: "White throat. I'll give you five days." Your doctor doesn't care about your professional situation. The only thing that interests them is writing huge prescriptions and sabotaging the finances of Social Security. Everything else is miles away. You have a 104°F fever, panda eyes, and debris in your lungs: that's worth five days off, period. And too bad for the disastrous consequences this could have on your career.
It's Monday. It's 10 am. You're leaving the doctor's (or the doctor is leaving your house, if you live in a medical desert), and although you're unable to put one foot in front of the other, you drag yourself to the pharmacy. You're given a huge amount of medication, the price of which you don't know and which you already have in industrial quantities in your bathroom cabinet. You take a few steps sniffing and there you are on the sidewalk, your cell phone in hand. Your boss is waiting for you. They've already called you seven times during the consultation. Your week is filled with crucial appointments. It's 35.6°F. There's a fierce wind. A 45-minute commute separates you from your job, your children are at school, or you don't have children, which is even more convenient, your bed is all warm and there's "The Young and the Restless" on TV.
>> What to do: Choose the right option. The only one: go to the office. No hesitation. Gather your strength and don't waste this splendid opportunity to impress the whole open-space. But beware! The difficulty here doesn't lie so much in going to work with a 104°F fever (dozing off on public transport, then flattening yourself behind a high-speed screen, that's not a big deal, there are tons of people with terrible illnesses or who live in the Slovak Republic). No, the difficulty lies much more in how you're going to publicize this performance. This requires a real touch, because some mistakes can annihilate your effort. Example: arriving at the office by dragging yourself on the floor and groaning. This attitude will only earn you disgusted reactions. "Go home, with your miasmas!" they'll tell you. And you'll be stuck.
Another mistake: going around to colleagues and saying that your life is seriously in danger, but that if you're here, it's because a Steering and Cross-Functionality Committee report, damn it, it's a Steering and Cross-Functionality Committee report, and even if you had four clubfeet and twelve tax inspectors on your trail, you'd be there to write it. The brown-nosing is then so visible, so stitched with a thick white thread as thick as the arm of weightlifter Natalya Lisovskaya that you will automatically be categorized among the syrupy fools in the style of Gontran Montignan.
Take the example of Julien Trobien instead. The best brown-noser in the world. One January morning, I saw him enter the open-space. He was shivering. His nose was scarlet. Yet, he greeted us with a smile and got down to work as if nothing had happened. Without a groan. At the time, our boss was a despot with strange manners: every evening, "for control purposes," he searched the wastebaskets of all his collaborators. That evening, during his inspection, he came across a five-day sick leave, torn into four pieces, in the name of Julien Trobien. Masterful.
>> What absolutely not to do: Get carried away by your zeal and decline the sick leave offered by the doctor. When you do a feat, you need proof.
Becoming a Master Office Brown-Noser is a Skill
[...]
* Situation 2: Your boss inflicts the story of their vacation on you
Description of the situation: "Sandrine and I, we love sailing. We're completely CRAZY about it. Wait, I'll set the scene: the first half of August, Gib'Sea 92, 30 feet long, 4.6 feet draft, 34 square meters of genoa, 18 horsepower engine, bam-bam-BAM! We left Saint-Malo and went... where? Guess where? To Roscoff! Round trip. It was PURE-BLISS. Anyway, for me, it's not complicated, you put a boat under my feet, a rudder in my hands, seawater in my mouth, and BAM! I'm the happiest man. And for the children, it's great, because: 1) it keeps them busy; 2) it gives them a fortnight in the open air, without TV, without Facebook, without PlayStation...; and 3) it puts them face to face with His Majesty the sea... What does the people ask for? Well, then you have to manage the wind, the tide calculations, but you see, what you have to remember is that..."
Not only is it back to school. Not only did you want to kill yourself this morning when you found public transport again. Not only did you almost faint when you saw that NONE of your colleagues had disappeared during the holidays... But in addition, barely arrived at the office, you have to endure THIS.
>> What to do: First, immediately leave this depressed rhinoceros face that makes you look like a fake Pollock or a failed caricature of Roselyne Claudine. I'm sorry to speak to you like this, but it's not POSSIBLE to present such a gloomy face to your boss even though they're blathering their jubilation in your ear.
I know it's difficult. I know it's Monday morning and that in the elevator, on the way, you thought back to those long "Barbecue & rosé" evenings spent with your significant other on the beach, and you almost started crying. But you have no choice: you must listen to your boss's vacation story. You MUST participate in the conversation. And the best thing to do, to achieve this, is to bombard them with questions.
>> Which questions to bombard your boss with?
There are several kinds. Let's classify them in order of efficiency
Becoming a Master Office Brown-Noser is a Skill
According to a recent study, a manager tells their vacation story about nineteen times to their professional entourage. Your objective is simple: you must be the person to whom they gave their best story. Their most epic. Their most accomplished. You must be their most wonderful mirror and, in your infinite eyes, they see the reflection of a creature of paradise. They will find you a little paradisiacal too and, you'll see, you'll be entitled to extra vacation checks.
>> What absolutely not to do: Talk about your own vacation. Your boss couldn't care less.
[...]
Situation 3: Your boss's wife looks like Pierre Richard
Description of the situation: Your new boss is called Gérard. He took office at 9 am. He gathered the whole team. He gave a long speech on the values of "solidarity and conquest," using twenty-seven metaphors drawn from rugby. Then he made an appointment with everyone for an individual interview, to "get to know each other a little."
Noon. Your turn has come. You poke your head into his office. Come in, he says, come in, please! The room is transformed. On the walls, Gérard has hung posters of New York (his predecessor too, but these are completely different because they show Manhattan by day while the old ones showed Manhattan by night). On the shelves, he has installed lots of large books on team management, as well as a large, slightly tarnished silver cup bearing the inscription "Manager Trophy 2004."
Sit down, he says. Let's break the ice.
He questions you about your career. You tell him point by point, trying to present each step as the obvious outcome of the previous one. Then he asks you about your hobbies.
It is then that, suddenly, your eye meets a small frame placed on his desk. A photo. Impossible not to look at it: Gérard, in formal attire, holds by the waist a creature who seems to be his significant other. "Wow," you think. "But that's not possible... That nose... That Hungarian shepherd's hairstyle... Am I crazy, or is my new boss dating Pierre Richard?" The resemblance is spectacular. You're in shock.
"Oh, how stupid I am!" you say to yourself. "It must be his brother, or his friend! Oh but no... Since Pierre Richard has a bridal veil on his head."
Suddenly, you realize that for five seconds you've stopped talking. For five seconds, you've had your eyes glued to this frame. Your gaze meets Gérard's. He saw you. He saw you make Dali's eyes in front of his wedding photo. You can't go back. You have to say something.
>> What to do: Break the ice, of course. You think: "Gérard's name is Gérard. He's blond and stocky like Gérard Depardieu. If it turns out, their wedding was themed around cinema and they wanted to wink at the film La Chèvre... It's a hypothesis... In which case, it would be too stupid not to bounce on it... But on the other hand, it's still terribly risky... How to do it? Ah! I know! Casually, I'll slip in a little allusion."
My hobbies? you answer. Well, I practice martial arts: judo, aikido, karate. And the first thing we're taught is control. For example, a guy calls me an idiot, I don't hit him. I look at him and I leave.
Silence. Gérard frowns. Darn it... Your reply fell flat.
Excuse me, he says. I'm just going back to something... You looked at my photo in a strange way... Is there something that strikes you?
Suddenly, an illumination.
Yes! you answer. Your wife's wedding dress. It's EXACTLY the same as my sister's. Oh? he bursts out laughing. So that's it? Because seeing you widen your eyes, I wondered if you hadn't already seen it somewhere, my wife... Huh? Me? But no. Not at all... Do you know why I'm telling you this? Because sometimes, people tell me she looks a bit like Nicole Kidman. To Nicole Kid... But of course! That's the name I was looking for! Nicole Kidman! That's it! She looks like Nicole KIDMAN! Incredible!
Gérard chuckles with pleasure.
And there you have it. Deep down, it's nothing more than that, management: meeting in offices decorated with Manhattan posters, breaking the ice, and reconciling viewpoints.
>> What absolutely not to do: Display photos of your pet on your desk (or screen). This practice must stop as soon as possible.
Lexpress.fr
Posted online August 10, 2014.
When to Brown-Nose?
Some moments are ideal for brown-nosing. Others, absolutely not. To avoid mistakes, keep this universal rule in mind: the happiness of the office worker increases with the prospect of leaving. In other words, brown-nosing Monday morning at 8 am is like trying to peel a carrot with your elbow. It's possible, but considering the effort, the result will be ridiculous.
Becoming a Master Office Brown-Noser is a Skill
7 pm is the perfect time to fish for compliments. But beware! After 7 pm, the office worker's mood plummets because from that moment on, they consider they have nothing left to do there. Except for workaholics and other specimens eager to escape a violent, adulterous, child-ruled, or simply empty family home.
Becoming a Master Office Brown-Noser is a Skill
Where to Brown-Nose?
Depending on whether you brown-nose in the boss's office or at the coffee machine, you won't get the same results. Consult this diagram before embarking on your flattery work. Excerpt.
Again, the principles are elementary but need to be stated. The playing field of brown-nosing isn't as vast as you imagine. In reality, it's more or less confined to the office of you-know-who, and in all other places, I urge you to beware of anything that remotely resembles colleagues, assistants, bacteria, crawling animals, or even walls.
* Situation 1: Your doctor puts you on sick leave
Description of the situation: It's not their fault; it's their job. They listened to your heart. They took your blood pressure. They stuck a cotton swab down your throat. Then they murmured: "White throat. I'll give you five days." Your doctor doesn't care about your professional situation. The only thing that interests them is writing huge prescriptions and sabotaging the finances of Social Security. Everything else is miles away. You have a 104°F fever, panda eyes, and debris in your lungs: that's worth five days off, period. And too bad for the disastrous consequences this could have on your career.
It's Monday. It's 10 am. You're leaving the doctor's (or the doctor is leaving your house, if you live in a medical desert), and although you're unable to put one foot in front of the other, you drag yourself to the pharmacy. You're given a huge amount of medication, the price of which you don't know and which you already have in industrial quantities in your bathroom cabinet. You take a few steps sniffing and there you are on the sidewalk, your cell phone in hand. Your boss is waiting for you. They've already called you seven times during the consultation. Your week is filled with crucial appointments. It's 35.6°F. There's a fierce wind. A 45-minute commute separates you from your job, your children are at school, or you don't have children, which is even more convenient, your bed is all warm and there's "The Young and the Restless" on TV.
>> What to do: Choose the right option. The only one: go to the office. No hesitation. Gather your strength and don't waste this splendid opportunity to impress the whole open-space. But beware! The difficulty here doesn't lie so much in going to work with a 104°F fever (dozing off on public transport, then flattening yourself behind a high-speed screen, that's not a big deal, there are tons of people with terrible illnesses or who live in the Slovak Republic). No, the difficulty lies much more in how you're going to publicize this performance. This requires a real touch, because some mistakes can annihilate your effort. Example: arriving at the office by dragging yourself on the floor and groaning. This attitude will only earn you disgusted reactions. "Go home, with your miasmas!" they'll tell you. And you'll be stuck.
Another mistake: going around to colleagues and saying that your life is seriously in danger, but that if you're here, it's because a Steering and Cross-Functionality Committee report, damn it, it's a Steering and Cross-Functionality Committee report, and even if you had four clubfeet and twelve tax inspectors on your trail, you'd be there to write it. The brown-nosing is then so visible, so stitched with a thick white thread as thick as the arm of weightlifter Natalya Lisovskaya that you will automatically be categorized among the syrupy fools in the style of Gontran Montignan.
Take the example of Julien Trobien instead. The best brown-noser in the world. One January morning, I saw him enter the open-space. He was shivering. His nose was scarlet. Yet, he greeted us with a smile and got down to work as if nothing had happened. Without a groan. At the time, our boss was a despot with strange manners: every evening, "for control purposes," he searched the wastebaskets of all his collaborators. That evening, during his inspection, he came across a five-day sick leave, torn into four pieces, in the name of Julien Trobien. Masterful.
>> What absolutely not to do: Get carried away by your zeal and decline the sick leave offered by the doctor. When you do a feat, you need proof.
Becoming a Master Office Brown-Noser is a Skill
[...]
* Situation 2: Your boss inflicts the story of their vacation on you
Description of the situation: "Sandrine and I, we love sailing. We're completely CRAZY about it. Wait, I'll set the scene: the first half of August, Gib'Sea 92, 30 feet long, 4.6 feet draft, 34 square meters of genoa, 18 horsepower engine, bam-bam-BAM! We left Saint-Malo and went... where? Guess where? To Roscoff! Round trip. It was PURE-BLISS. Anyway, for me, it's not complicated, you put a boat under my feet, a rudder in my hands, seawater in my mouth, and BAM! I'm the happiest man. And for the children, it's great, because: 1) it keeps them busy; 2) it gives them a fortnight in the open air, without TV, without Facebook, without PlayStation...; and 3) it puts them face to face with His Majesty the sea... What does the people ask for? Well, then you have to manage the wind, the tide calculations, but you see, what you have to remember is that..."
Not only is it back to school. Not only did you want to kill yourself this morning when you found public transport again. Not only did you almost faint when you saw that NONE of your colleagues had disappeared during the holidays... But in addition, barely arrived at the office, you have to endure THIS.
>> What to do: First, immediately leave this depressed rhinoceros face that makes you look like a fake Pollock or a failed caricature of Roselyne Claudine. I'm sorry to speak to you like this, but it's not POSSIBLE to present such a gloomy face to your boss even though they're blathering their jubilation in your ear.
I know it's difficult. I know it's Monday morning and that in the elevator, on the way, you thought back to those long "Barbecue & rosé" evenings spent with your significant other on the beach, and you almost started crying. But you have no choice: you must listen to your boss's vacation story. You MUST participate in the conversation. And the best thing to do, to achieve this, is to bombard them with questions.
>> Which questions to bombard your boss with?
There are several kinds. Let's classify them in order of efficiency
Becoming a Master Office Brown-Noser is a Skill
According to a recent study, a manager tells their vacation story about nineteen times to their professional entourage. Your objective is simple: you must be the person to whom they gave their best story. Their most epic. Their most accomplished. You must be their most wonderful mirror and, in your infinite eyes, they see the reflection of a creature of paradise. They will find you a little paradisiacal too and, you'll see, you'll be entitled to extra vacation checks.
>> What absolutely not to do: Talk about your own vacation. Your boss couldn't care less.
[...]
Situation 3: Your boss's wife looks like Pierre Richard
Description of the situation: Your new boss is called Gérard. He took office at 9 am. He gathered the whole team. He gave a long speech on the values of "solidarity and conquest," using twenty-seven metaphors drawn from rugby. Then he made an appointment with everyone for an individual interview, to "get to know each other a little."
Noon. Your turn has come. You poke your head into his office. Come in, he says, come in, please! The room is transformed. On the walls, Gérard has hung posters of New York (his predecessor too, but these are completely different because they show Manhattan by day while the old ones showed Manhattan by night). On the shelves, he has installed lots of large books on team management, as well as a large, slightly tarnished silver cup bearing the inscription "Manager Trophy 2004."
Sit down, he says. Let's break the ice.
He questions you about your career. You tell him point by point, trying to present each step as the obvious outcome of the previous one. Then he asks you about your hobbies.
It is then that, suddenly, your eye meets a small frame placed on his desk. A photo. Impossible not to look at it: Gérard, in formal attire, holds by the waist a creature who seems to be his significant other. "Wow," you think. "But that's not possible... That nose... That Hungarian shepherd's hairstyle... Am I crazy, or is my new boss dating Pierre Richard?" The resemblance is spectacular. You're in shock.
"Oh, how stupid I am!" you say to yourself. "It must be his brother, or his friend! Oh but no... Since Pierre Richard has a bridal veil on his head."
Suddenly, you realize that for five seconds you've stopped talking. For five seconds, you've had your eyes glued to this frame. Your gaze meets Gérard's. He saw you. He saw you make Dali's eyes in front of his wedding photo. You can't go back. You have to say something.
>> What to do: Break the ice, of course. You think: "Gérard's name is Gérard. He's blond and stocky like Gérard Depardieu. If it turns out, their wedding was themed around cinema and they wanted to wink at the film La Chèvre... It's a hypothesis... In which case, it would be too stupid not to bounce on it... But on the other hand, it's still terribly risky... How to do it? Ah! I know! Casually, I'll slip in a little allusion."
My hobbies? you answer. Well, I practice martial arts: judo, aikido, karate. And the first thing we're taught is control. For example, a guy calls me an idiot, I don't hit him. I look at him and I leave.
Silence. Gérard frowns. Darn it... Your reply fell flat.
Excuse me, he says. I'm just going back to something... You looked at my photo in a strange way... Is there something that strikes you?
Suddenly, an illumination.
Yes! you answer. Your wife's wedding dress. It's EXACTLY the same as my sister's. Oh? he bursts out laughing. So that's it? Because seeing you widen your eyes, I wondered if you hadn't already seen it somewhere, my wife... Huh? Me? But no. Not at all... Do you know why I'm telling you this? Because sometimes, people tell me she looks a bit like Nicole Kidman. To Nicole Kid... But of course! That's the name I was looking for! Nicole Kidman! That's it! She looks like Nicole KIDMAN! Incredible!
Gérard chuckles with pleasure.
And there you have it. Deep down, it's nothing more than that, management: meeting in offices decorated with Manhattan posters, breaking the ice, and reconciling viewpoints.
>> What absolutely not to do: Display photos of your pet on your desk (or screen). This practice must stop as soon as possible.
Lexpress.fr
Posted online August 10, 2014.
