Corporatitis - A biased phenomenological and anthropological hypothesis supporting its inclusion as a medical diagnosis.
Trigger warning: this maybe offensive to coffee drinkers.
More than twenty years ago, I was in the office of a student guidance counsellor at a university in British Columbia, Canada. I was a lecturer at the time in postgraduate studies in emergency and critical care. As we sat talking, for a reason I can't recall, mid-conversation, I interrupted him with a question.
“Sorry,” I said, “but I can't focus on our conversation without first asking: what the hell is up with that big picture on the wall?”
It was a dark image. A lone gravesite, with a black, rusty iron fence around it, a tombstone, and a black crow sitting on top. In the background, a big overhanging tree and long grass.
He was quick to respond. “It's there to remind me that we all end up in the same place, no matter how successful we think we are.”
Turns out, he had a background in corporate management and had sat on boards. He'd come to the realisation that the cost, despite the pay and perks, wasn't worth it. The cost? Time lost with the people he loved, his health, following his passion, happiness, and being present for the things that mattered. He'd walked away from corporate life, become a part-time student guidance counsellor, and spent his free time with his family, fishing on his boat with his now-adult kids.
His part-time job talking to students. Enough.
That story always stuck. Sort of. Not initially, but eventually.
Years later, there I was in the Qantas Club, excited by the free wine and food, and my frequent flyer status. As it happens, I made it to the top. Platinum! Living the corporate dream. Despite the image of the crow and the tombstone still lodged deep in the recesses of my mind, there I was, wearing a suit, sending emails late at night, taking calls over the weekend, worrying whether my shoes matched, and talking corporate lingo to make it sound like I knew what I was doing.
As time went on, I often found myself saying I had back-to-back meetings, and believing those meetings actually made a difference, rather than recognising their true purpose: creating a forum for what I termed ‘lorking’.
The unconscious act of appearing to listen to other people, when in fact you're just waiting for a split-second gap in the conversation that signals your turn to talk. If you look closely, you can see it in others. While someone else is talking, their bottom lip quivers, like a sprinter on the starting blocks, waiting for their turn to talk.
In corporate, we like to talk.
I did enjoy corporate life, though. The people (some), the places I went, the food I ate, the money I made, and the meetings I attended. Okay, last one is a lie. But to be honest, I was never cut out to stay in corporate through to retirement, for one reason. Okay, maybe two. Obviously, my track record for staying in one career for a lengthy time was sketchy. But more importantly, I didn't drink coffee.
That was tough. I never truly fitted in, like the time a friend at school convinced me to play football. After the kid on the other team told me my mum wore gumboots, I just knew in that moment I was not a fit. I took up drinking hot chocolate to try to fit in, but people noticed. I could feel their judgement. Never mentioned, but felt.
Despite being a fancy executive manager, at my core I still saw things through the lens of healthcare. I noticed patterns: signs and symptoms, and the things people said. And naturally, I drew conclusions.
Among myself and my colleagues, I began noticing a common trajectory as people climbed the corporate ladder. A collection of signs and symptoms that, to my clinical eye, suggested an emerging condition.
Best expressed, of course, in medical terms.
CORPORATITIS
(kor-por-uh-TY-tis)
Definition: An acute inflammatory condition of the professional self, caused by prolonged exposure to corporate environments, characterised by a gradual loss of perspective and an eventual questioning of reality.
Etymology: From the Latin corporatus, “formed into a body,” derived from corpus, meaning body. Fittingly, the corporation is a body, and over time it consumes yours. The suffix -itis denotes inflammation.
Aetiology: Onset typically follows the first promotion, pay rise or corporate credit card. Risk factors include a new suit, a LinkedIn profile photo, frequent flyer status, and the phrase “let's circle back.” Initially, signs and symptoms are subtle, often masked by the distracting nature of incentives.
Signs and symptoms:
General fatigue and malaise, initially managed with regular coffee.
Emails sent between 10pm and midnight.
Acronym-induced aphasia: the gradual loss of plain English.
Bruxism (jaw clenching), particularly during budget meetings.
Tachycardia (increased heart rate) on receiving a calendar invitation titled “Quick chat.”
A persistent belief that things will improve after the next promotion, pay rise, restructure or bigger office.
After-work drinks in a fancy bar as a precursor to joining AA meetings.
Believing weekly yoga or Pilates classes make you wise and self-aware.
Diagnosis: Clinical. Patients often present as high-functioning and well dressed, which delays diagnosis. Diagnostic criteria should not be used in a cookbook fashion. Patients frequently deny symptoms, attributing them to a busy quarter, an upcoming restructure or the need to improve their time management.
Treatment: Early intervention is recommended. Effective treatments include annual leave that is actually taken, a phone left in another room, time outdoors, conversations not involving the word “alignment,” and any task where you can see the result at the end of the day.
Prognosis: Good, if treated early. Left untreated, Corporatitis may progress to its chronic form: Sisyphusiasis.
SISYPHUSIASIS
(SIS-ih-fuss-EYE-uh-sis)
Definition: A chronic, debilitating condition, both physical and psychological, brought on by the realisation that despite getting up each morning, putting on a fancy outfit, coffee, and sitting through back-to-back meetings, PowerPoint presentations, performance reviews and HR training on organisational values, no tangible progress has been made. Followed by more coffee.
Unlike Corporatitis, where the patient remains largely distracted by the perks and promises of corporate life, Sisyphusiasis develops when the patient begins to recognise the absurdity of their predicament, yet continues participating anyway.
Etymology: From Sisyphus, King of Corinth, condemned by the gods to roll a boulder up a hill for eternity, only for it to roll back down each time it neared the top. Notably, Sisyphus was punished for being too clever: he cheated death and outsmarted the gods. The suffix -iasis denotes a pathological condition, often associated with parasitic infestation.
Aetiology: Untreated Corporatitis, complicated by the onset of self-awareness. The parasite is the organisation. Extremely contagious. The host rarely notices until well into the disease process.
Signs and symptoms:
On talking terms with your barrister and barista.
Seeing a chiropractor or naturopath on a regular basis.
Eyelid myokymia (a persistent twitch), usually in one eye.
Waking with the jaw clenched shut.
Sunday-evening dread.
Inability to recall a hobby, or what a hobby is.
Meetings scheduled to plan future meetings.
Referral to the Employee Assistance Program, to confirm the patient is the problem.
In advanced cases, exposure to workers' compensation.
Returning from annual leave results in delirium tremens.
Mentioning your frequent flyer status at social events.
Diagnosis: Confirmed when the patient reaches the top of the hill (the promotion, the corner office, the partnership) and discovers it's just the bottom of another hill.
At which point, you start to realise the childhood song “The Bear Went Over the Mountain” is actually a metaphor for corporate life.
Differential diagnosis: Burnout, midlife crisis, and “just a busy quarter.” Patients frequently self-diagnose with the latter.
Treatment: No known cure. Symptomatic relief has been reported with:
Rediscovering a hobby, ideally one that involves neither a screen nor a KPI.
Time in nature, preferably out of mobile range.
Saying no to a meeting, and noticing the world doesn't end.
Sitting around a table with people you love, eating food made with love, with no agenda.
Prognosis: Poor, if left untreated. Most patients continue until retirement. They are farewelled with a card, a gift voucher and a short speech, and their role is filled by the end of the day.
Some hope exists if identified early. Warning signs include dreading the end of a holiday, struggling to remember the last few years, and saying “once things settle down” more than once a year. Patients who act on these signs often make a good recovery.
One particularly effective intervention involves recognising that the boulder doesn't actually belong to you, and that there is no medical requirement to keep pushing it.
More than twenty years ago, a guidance counsellor in British Columbia had already discovered this.
He'd put down the boulder, bought himself a boat, and gone fishing with his kids.
Maybe the black crow knew all along what mattered. He was just there as a quiet reminder.
Written by: Jeremy Limpens