Following Orders

In light of my recent brush with the Law, readers have been flooding my inbox, wondering if I am some sort of anti-American anarchist scofflaw. Let me set the record straight.

It is true that I'm not good at following orders that don't make sense to me. This trait has dogged me since I was in junior high school, when I decided that History and Algebra were areas of learning that were too boring to spend any unnecessary time on.

This unwillingness to accept unreasonable authority also got me in trouble when I was in the US Air Force, where I was almost busted for ignoring a stupid order of a (drunken) Master Sergent who thought it would be entertaining to have me shine his boots.

I suspect that most of my former managers would assert that my failure to internalize marching orders has been responsible for those not-so-scintillating performance reviews that I received as an employee. Most former bosses probably saw me as a prima donna who could not be counted-on to march to the beat of the bosses drum. I believe that even the most critical of them would (reluctantly) admit that I did good work, but it was only on projects that were my idea. My inability to meet arbitrary deadlines is well documented in the secret files of the Human Resources Departments of my ex-companies.

I wish this rebellious streak could be attributed to some inner courage, or artistic nature; but I sometimes think I am simply burdened with an overdeveloped sense of right and wrong. This, in addition to the Irish and Dutch genes that comprise the biggest part of my DNA, generates an eerie obstinacy that goes well beyond "just plain stubborn." In the right environment, stubborn righteousness might be viewed in a positive light, even seen as a wondrous gift, but alas, I have yet to find such an environment.

The truth is: I have no difficulty following rules that make sense. I believe in mandatory auto liability insurance, dog leash laws, and noise ordinances. In the workplace, I subscribe to rules that benefit the organization such as being on time for meetings and not stealing copier toner cartridges. I also believe that paying one's just share of taxes and not making loud noise are examples of laws that benefit the community - even though they might attenuate the personal pleasure of some individuals.

So, there you go: I do believe in laws and rules. They make civilization possible, after all. Without rules, you cannot play games, conduct business or fight battles.

Furthermore, I agree that the Boss has the power to create and enforce rules. When a rule or directive passes the sniff test of my infallible sense of right and wrong I agree to be subject to it. If not, I generally exempt myself from it.

If I cannot see the benefit or purpose in an order - or, worse - if I question the motives of the rule-giver, then my Dutch-Irish kicks-in with full throttle.
I have frequently observed that rules are often made by little tyrants - just because they have the power, and find entertainment in making subordinates run around - much the way a small boy enjoys disturbing an anthill.


John Kerry might still be a candidate for president if he had only told the students, "Study hard or you could end-up getting stuck wearing a Mickee Dees uniform taking orders for fries and burgers -- or worse, end-up brown-nosing some fat bastard ego-maniac."
I wish somebody had told me that back during the botched joke that was my high school study hall behavior - when I was not studying History and Algebra.