Office Matters

With 26 working days to go before leaving Shell, I moved office this week, into Alaska in Rijswijk with several hundred others from P&T. New offices are always sources of stress for people, as we get used to changing commutes and timings, and try to reconnect with familiar people and routines. It brings out the suspicion in many of us (why does he have more space than me?). Overall the Alaska move seems to have been well handled – it is an airy, welcoming place good for collaboration. The lack of fixed desks and offices for all but the most mighty is a culture shock to many, but is in tune with the modern world. In my belief a plea for privacy is usually signaling someone pretending something – about how hard they work or how important they are.
My worldly goods I now carry in two small files with my computer. It feels strange how work life has reduced to this, but in truth, I believe most of you could downsize your paper to nearly nothing nowadays, it is all in the computer. In successive moves I’ve gone from 6 boxes to 3 then 2 and now none. It is like having been on a successful diet. Surrounding ourselves with stuff is one of the ways we try to convince ourselves and our colleagues of our significance. A former boss recently retired. As a lawyer brought up in more traditional times, he had retained every file note, every report through his whole career, and his room (and neighbouring rooms too) were full of his files. The day he realized that 99% of it was destined for the shredder was one of the saddest of his life. Individually, we are not that important really, and we should remind ourselves frequently to avoid the sort of pain he experienced.
Offices have changed, due to technology and gradual erosion of status symbols. My first Shell office was looking over the Stand in London, a great location. There was nothing on the desk but a phone – the only accessory NOT on the Alaska workspaces. I could tell who was the boss (and his boss) by the carpet, curtains and colour of wood in the furniture. We had a terminal room where you had to queue to use the computer (in one of my previous summer jobs it was worse – you booked processing time a day in advance and used punched cards as input; one mistake with a card cost you a whole day). There was one restaurant for the normal people (excellent even then, Shell has always fed me well) and one for JG2 and above, with a well-used bar. The building had its own pub, where we had a pint or two for lunch at the slightest excuse. Ah, the good old days. It was critical to be friends with the boss’ secretary, as she was the only way to get anything typed yet she didn’t have any obligation to help. The official alternative was something called a typing pool, out of which I never recall emerging any typing.
I’ve seen some weird offices. For about a third of my career, I’ve been home based. On balance that has been good. The best years of all were the first three years of my daughter’s life, as being at home really adds to the time you can bond. The other side of it is that you miss some bonding with work colleagues, and sometimes you feel a bit excluded. In the early days of technology there were issues too. I remember sitting in Birmingham with my home computer only usable via a security device rather like the ones banks sometimes use now, but much less reliable. I was cut off every few minutes. There is no doubt that meeting people physically on a regular basis aids cooperation. One study showed that even being around a corner or on a different floor reduced the effectiveness of work relationships, so imagine how hard it is when your team are dotted around Europe or the World. That is a good thing about Alaska, as it will bring together teams who can benefit from collaboration.
Offices say a lot about companies. Investing in space and light and things like cafes makes sense, as these things affect mood and performance. Think about recent good and bad meetings you have been in, and correlate it with the quality of the meeting room, especially its light. Interesting, yes? But offices can also send signals about hierarchy, modernity, customer attitude. In the early 1990’s I visited the head offices of Sainsbury and Tesco in consecutive weeks. The former in central London was plush, cosseted, complacent, the latter in a suburb next to a warehouse was basic but alive. That told me all I needed to know about the two companies, and their divergence in performance since came as no surprise to me.
What do Shell’s offices communicate today? For me there remains decency to employees, but still too much hierarchy and not enough customer proximity or feel. We had a golden age in the early days of SEOP in the late 1990’s, where in retail we went completely customer crazy. We sold off all the central relics in business districts, and moved into functional spaces, often next door to petrol stations. Then we spent a lot of time travelling between sites on buses, It was a bit manic, but I for one found it inspirational and good. Of course in the end the bureaucrats fought back and we retreated most of the way back to our comfort zone.
Offices and other symbols really speak volumes about a culture. SEOP and our customer revolution was an extreme case. But there are many if you look. The lack of first names on the doors in Germany told you all you needed to know about Deutsche Shell. The Norwegian office where the executive floor could only be reached by a non-public lift sent a clear message, reputedly about the CE’s wife more than anyone else. Westhollow’s “chapel of rest” atmosphere pervaded the whole place. The first office of Shell Bulgaria was a converted apartment in a residential district of Sofia, and was wonderful – such a contrast to the formal stuffiness of the first offices in Poland or the Czech Republic. In Denmark, if you wanted to leave after 16.30 you had to crawl through the basement – sending a clear signal about the work culture there.
So, today’s blog has been a bit of a nostalgic ramble. I must be winding down. Perhaps we can derive a few lessons though. Be ready for change. Be aware of the signals you sent out – what are you pretending, and who to? Always choose well lit meeting rooms. Observe what offices tell you about people and companies, including your own. Customers matter. Celebrate good food and good coffee. Collaboration is easier if you are close together. It is right that we don’t drink at lunchtime now, but how have you replaced that bonding? Chuck out your junk, travel light. Get a home based job when your children are young.
Oh, and don’t ramble when you get old.