Bonnie, Clyde and the investigation that resolved it

I’ve never understood people who want to work in Human Resources. Theirs is, I suspect, the most miserable job in a modern corpo environment. Think about it: when they perform their job flawlessly, no one notices. The only time they come to mind in the rest of the organisation is when they screw up (e.g., botched benefits) or when a worker screws up (i.e., necessitating adverse action). HR folks are forbidden from explaining what went wrong or what they did about it thanks to staff lawyers who are terrified of getting sued. Worse, HR represents executive leadership and the business’s owners, not the workers, so everything HR can say is assumed to be self-serving lies. Who wants to a job like this?

This has bothered me since I first met my buddy Ralph at Fort Hood. I was the battalion intel officer (S-2) for 61st Med at the time, while Ralph was the battalion personnel officer (S-1) for 36th Evac. That meant we constantly ran into each other at group headquarters. Ralph was (and still is) a relentlessly positive and cheerful fellow. He’s a model professional. Astonishingly, Ralph started his Army career as an infantry branch officer, then gave that up to start over in the medical corps. He wanted to be a great personalist … and, I have to admit, he’s still my model for what a great S-1 should be.

I strive to stay on good terms with HR types wherever I work. Their job is hard enough without line leaders being nakedly antagonistic towards them. Don’t torque off the people who can “accidently” delete your paycheque! Still, I often take issue with how HR folks respond to employee misbehaviour … or, as is usually the case, fail to respond.

That’s why I was fascinated by a story I heard over the weekend about a ridiculous personnel misconduct incident that some friends of mine were caught up in. As always, I’m not going to name the company where this happened or the people involved. The main characters will be renamed “Bonnie” and “Clyde.”