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Management Bullshit: The Performance Review

Three years of pay freezes, blame for risks I flagged, and flattery to keep me quiet. What performance reviews really mean – recorded as it happened.

Performance reviews are their own fresh hell – an annual bit of theatre where management lines up to lie to your face and expects a thank-you for it.

  1. they have to justify another year of pay freezes with a straight face – “the current market,” “budget realities,” “we’re all tightening our belts.” Are we, though? Because the directors just rolled in on brand new Teslas, plates still warm, and I’m apparently meant to believe that money materialised from a completely separate, unaskable-about dimension. Sacrifices for thee, leased German – sorry, American – EVs for me.
  2. My favourite act: the blame. They have to pin it on someone, and you lucky bastard it’s YOU for the seventh year in a row. Recall that failed project? You know, the one where you you flagged a few red flags in a scope meeting, in writing, and were told that’s “not the energy we want going into this” and that I was “pessimistic.” I wasn’t being pessimistic. I was being right, which is a fireable offence apparently, or at least an “area for growth.”
  3. having frozen your pay and blamed you for their decisions, they then have to blow enough smoke up your arse to keep you optimistic that next year will be different – the raise is coming, the recognition is coming, just keep your head down and deliver. Spoiler: it wasn’t, and it didn’t.

And the only reason I can prove any of it is because I’m a stickler for writing bullshit down the second it leaves their mouths. Same notepad, every meeting, every year. There is no feeling on earth quite like flipping back twelve months to the exact page where they promised the thing they’re now looking me dead in the eye and pretending never happened. That notepad is the only honest employee in the building.

“Exceeds expectations in some areas”

You are good at your job, which is a problem, because the budget only allows me to say this about one person and it’s already Dave.

“Meets expectations”

You did everything we asked, correctly, all year. This is worth 2%. Inflation is 4%. Please clap.

“Areas for growth”

The things I’m about to blame you for that were caused by decisions I made in February.

“You need to work on your visibility”

You do the work quietly instead of announcing it in meetings like Dave does. Be more like Dave, who does nothing, loudly.

“We see you as a safe pair of hands”

You will never be promoted. Reliability is a trap and you walked right into it. Ta dah!

“You’re not quite ready for the next level”

There is no headcount. There will never be headcount. But if I say that, you’ll leave, and then who does the work?

“We’d like to see more strategic thinking”

I don’t know what this means either. Nobody does. It cannot be achieved, which is why it’s here.

“You can be quite direct”

You were right about something in front of people.

“Stakeholders have raised concerns”

One person. It was one person. It was Dave.

“Let’s set some stretch goals”

Your targets are now mathematically impossible so that next year I can point at them and use the phrase ‘areas for growth.’

“Your compensation reflects the current market”

The current market being the one from 1889, cor bless ya gov’nuh.

“This role is what you make of it”

We have no idea what this job is. Please figure it out and then also do it, for the same money.

“We’re really investing in your development”

Here is a LinkedIn Learning license. It cost us £11.

And the final boss:

“On a personal note, I think you’re doing great” – Everything above this sentence is what goes in the system. This sentence is what I actually think, and it is worth precisely nothing, because I have the spine of a soft cheese.

Honestly, Alice in Wonderland has a more believable plot than the forty-minute stream of nonsense I sat through. At least Wonderland is upfront about the fact that none of the rules make sense – the Queen changes her mind mid-sentence, the trial has no evidence, and everyone just accepts it because that’s the world they’re in. Sound familiar? The difference is Lewis Carroll knew he was writing fantasy. My review was delivered with a straight face and a feedback form. Yeah it was fair, understand the feedback… here you go, same bullshit next year? I’ll mark it in my calendar.

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