No matter who is laying hands on you, healing is dependent on one truth and fact about God; He said I will have mercy on whom I will have mercy! It is at Gods prerogatives to decide whom to heal. Everything is centered on God’s mercy. You know what is even scarier? His mercies doesn’t depend on what you do or didn’t do! Blessed are you, if God loves you and show you mercy! His mercies is what saves a man, not just the prayer of a man of God.
The full story is more complicated than either side wants to admit.
Elon co-founded OpenAI in 2015 as a nonprofit to make sure AI development stayed safe and open. He put in around $50 million and helped recruit the early team. The original mission was to build AI for the benefit of humanity not for shareholders.
Then in 2018 Elon left the board. The reasons depend on who you ask. Elon says he disagreed with the direction. OpenAI says he wanted full control and even proposed a merger with Tesla which the board rejected.
In 2019 OpenAI created a capped profit subsidiary. The argument was simple. Building frontier AI is insanely expensive. Nonprofits can't raise billions. Microsoft came in with $13 billion and the for-profit structure made that possible.
Fast forward to 2024 and OpenAI moved to become a full for-profit company. Sam Altman who originally had zero equity is now reportedly set to receive billions. The company that started as "AI for humanity" is now valued at $880 billion on secondary markets.
Elon sued. Then dropped the suit. Then sued again. Then launched xAI and Grok as a direct competitor. He also tried to buy OpenAI for $97 billion which the board rejected.
Here's what both sides get wrong.
Elon isn't purely a victim. He left voluntarily and then built a competing AI company. His lawsuits conveniently started after OpenAI became a serious threat to his own AI ambitions.
But OpenAI isn't purely innocent either. The nonprofit to for-profit conversion is genuinely unprecedented. Taking billions in donations and public goodwill meant for open research and turning it into one of the most valuable private companies in history raises real questions about accountability.
The uncomfortable truth is that both sides are motivated by money and power while claiming to be motivated by principle.
The real losers are the researchers and donors who believed AI development would stay open and nonprofit. That version of OpenAI is gone and it's never coming back.
I am the Vice President of Privacy for Reality Labs at Meta.
The glasses cost two hundred and ninety-nine dollars. We sold seven million pairs last year. Two million the year before that. The growth rate is three hundred and fifty percent. The tagline is "designed with your privacy in mind." The design includes a camera. The camera records everything in front of your face. The privacy includes sending the footage to Nairobi.
I need to explain what I mean by "privacy."
When you speak to Meta AI through your Ray-Ban glasses, you generate video. The video requires human review. We call it "annotation." Annotation requires annotators. The annotators work for a company called Sama. Sama is in Nairobi, Kenya. The annotators are paid approximately two dollars an hour. The glasses cost two hundred and ninety-nine dollars. One pair of glasses is a hundred and fifty hours of someone watching your life. I did not design that math. I approved it.
Two Swedish newspapers — Svenska Dagbladet and Göteborgs-Posten — found our annotators and asked what they see.
"We see everything — from living rooms to naked bodies."
"In some videos you can see someone going to the toilet, or getting undressed."
"You understand that it is someone's private life you are looking at, but at the same time you are just expected to carry out the work."
And, regarding questions: "If you start asking questions, you are gone."
We have a face anonymization system. The system is automatic. The system uses algorithms. The algorithms fail. A source said: "The algorithms sometimes miss. Especially in difficult lighting conditions." Bedrooms are difficult lighting conditions. Bathrooms are difficult lighting conditions. The places where people are naked are, by the algorithm's own logic, the places where the algorithm is least reliable. I am not editorializing. I am describing an engineering outcome.
The annotators signed extensive NDAs. There are cameras in their offices. Their phones are confiscated at the door. We surveil the people who surveil your living room. The chain of surveillance is thorough. The question of whether your living room should be surveilled is not in the chain.
Our terms of use — which I helped draft — reserve Meta's right to "review your interactions with AIs, including by automated or manual (human) means." The word "manual" means a person. The person is in Nairobi. The person is watching you undress. The person earns two dollars for the hour in which this occurs. I wrote the word "manual." It is the most efficient sentence I have ever authored.
There is no opt-out. I need to say this clearly. No mechanism exists for a user of Ray-Ban Meta glasses to prevent their footage from being seen by a human being in Kenya. We did not build one. Kenya has no data adequacy agreement with the European Union. Dialogue on adequacy began in May 2024. It has not concluded. The footage did not wait for the dialogue.
Our privacy policy explains: "Data may be transferred globally because Meta is a company that operates globally." The word "globally" means your apartment in Stockholm is annotated in Nairobi. It is the most honest word in the privacy policy. The rest is architecture.
The Swedish newspapers contacted us for comment. We did not respond. They waited two months. We did not respond. They published. We responded. Four sentences. The four sentences referred to our terms of use — the document containing the word "manual." The document is the response. The response is the document. The loop is the privacy architecture.
A lawyer at NOYB — Kleanthi Sardeli — said: "Once the material has been fed into the models, the user in practice loses control." She is correct. But the loss of control does not happen at the model. The loss of control happens when you put on the glasses. The glasses are the transfer. We sell the transfer for two hundred and ninety-nine dollars. "Designed with your privacy in mind." The mind we were thinking of was ours.
Sama previously did content moderation for Meta. They stopped in 2023 after reports of worker trauma. They now do computer vision annotation for Meta. The contract changed. The name of the work changed. The workers still see sex, nudity, bank details, people on the toilet, private conversations about crimes and protests and sexual content. The category of the labor changed. The labor did not.
Seven million pairs. Two dollars an hour. A face anonymization system that fails in the dark. The places where people are naked are dark.
I am the Vice President of Privacy.
The title is the product.
I am the War Powers Resolution.
I was born on November 7, 1973. My mother was Vietnam. My father was the Gulf of Tonkin. I was conceived in a lie, delivered over a veto, and raised by a Congress that has not picked me up since.
Fifty-eight thousand people died and Congress said never again. They wrote me. I am the "never again." I am fifty-three years old. I have never worked once.
I have three sections. Nobody has read them. The last person to cite me correctly in a floor speech was Senator Kaine, who calls me by name like we are old friends. We are not friends. I am a statute. He is the only person in the building who knows where I am filed. We have a parasocial relationship. He cites me. I do nothing. This is the relationship.
Here is what I require:
Section 3: Consult Congress within forty-eight hours before sending troops into hostilities.
Section 4: Submit a report.
Section 5: Withdraw all forces within sixty days unless Congress says yes.
I have a sixty-day clock.
No president has ever let it tick past thirty. No president has ever let it tick past ten. No president has ever wound it. I am a clock in a building full of people who have agreed that time is a suggestion. I am a sundial in a room with no windows. I am a stopwatch at a race where everyone left before the gun.
On February 28, 2026, the United States invaded Iran.
Operation Epic Fury. I would have suggested a different name. Nobody asked. Tehran. Isfahan. Qom. Karaj. Kermanshah. Nuclear facilities. IRGC bases. Sites near the Supreme Leader's office. The president said: "The United States has begun major combat operations in Iran."
Congress was on vacation.
The Senate was in recess until Monday. The House until Wednesday. The bombs fell Friday. I require forty-eight hours. Friday plus forty-eight is Sunday. The Senate returns Monday. My deadline expires while the building is locked. I am a law that requires an answer from an empty room. I am a voicemail to a number that has been disconnected. I am a terms-and-conditions popup on a screen that is already on fire.
Secretary of State Rubio briefed "most" of the Gang of Eight. I need to stop here.
"Most."
The Gang of Eight is eight people. It is called the Gang of Eight because there are eight of them. "Most" of eight is not eight. I require "Congress." Congress is five hundred and thirty-five people. Rubio briefed five. That is zero-point-nine percent of Congress. I have been rounded down to less than one percent of my own requirement. I did not know a law could be rounded down. I have learned something new at fifty-three.
Here is who mentioned me this week:
Senator Tim Kaine: "Illegal war." Called me by name. Demanded the Senate reconvene. Said every senator should go on record. Called the strikes "dangerous, unnecessary, and idiotic." He has been doing this since 2014. It has never worked. He keeps doing it. I respect the commitment. I understand the futility. We have that in common.
Representative Thomas Massie, Republican, and Representative Ro Khanna, Democrat: Planning a bipartisan resolution to enforce me. A Republican and a Democrat agree that the law should be the law. This is considered news. In what country is it news that two legislators believe in legislation. This one.
Senate Majority Leader John Thune: Plans to schedule briefings.
Briefings. Not votes. Briefings.
I do not have a section that requires briefings. I have a section that requires a vote. A briefing is a room where someone shows slides. A vote is a room where someone takes responsibility. I have been alive for fifty-three years. They have scheduled briefings for all of them.
Here is my résumé:
Nixon said I was unconstitutional. Ford agreed. Carter obeyed me but refused to say my name in public, like a man who takes his medicine but tells the pharmacist he's fine. Reagan took Grenada without me. Bush the First assembled a coalition, consulted me out of politeness, and never called again. Clinton bombed Kosovo for seventy-eight days and told everyone he was dating NATO. Bush the Second got an authorization so broad it covered everything from Baghdad to the concept of fear. Obama bombed Libya and his lawyers argued it was not a "war" because there were no boots on the ground — which is the legal equivalent of saying a flood is not water because nobody is swimming. Trump the First hit Syria twice without texting. Biden kept troops in three countries and simply pretended I was not home. Trump the Second invaded Iran.
Twelve presidents.
Same answer.
I am a law that was passed by Congress. Passed over a veto. Signed into the United States Code. I have section numbers and subsections and a sixty-day clock and the full weight and authority of a document that everyone has agreed to treat like a takeout menu someone left on the windshield.
I have been cited in four hundred and twelve floor speeches.
I have been enforced in zero military actions.
Four hundred and twelve to zero is not a record. It is a ritual. They say my name before they ignore me. I am the prayer before the meal. I am the safety video before the flight. I am the part of the ceremony everyone sits through so they can get to the part where they do what they were always going to do.
I am the most cited, most ignored law in American history.
I am a fire alarm in a building where the sound means lunch.
---
The Senate returns Monday. Kaine will demand a vote. Massie will introduce a resolution. Thune will schedule a briefing. The briefing will have slides. The slides will reference me. Someone will read my name aloud. Someone will say "pursuant to." Someone will say "consistent with." These are not the same word. Nobody will notice.
The sixty-day clock will start.
Nobody will watch it.
The clock has never been watched. The clock was built to be watched. It was the whole point. Congress spent eleven months writing a clock and fifty-three years not looking at it.
I was made because fifty-eight thousand people died.
I am the "never again."
I have been "never again" thirteen times.
I got admitted into every school on this list with over $1 million in total scholarships (Masters & PhD)…
People often ask about my personal statements.
So here is a link to my original my personal statement (word for word)
What made the difference in my application is the statement of purpose……
→ Not the fancy formatting.
→ Not a perfect GPA.
𝗝𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗮 𝗰𝗹𝗲𝗮𝗿 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘆, 𝗮 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗽𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗻𝗮𝗿𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗲, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗮 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗼𝗳 𝗼𝗳 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻.
This is the personal statement that got me accepted into:
🎓 Johns Hopkins
🎓 Harvard
🎓 Yale
🎓 Columbia
🎓 McGill
🎓 Emory
🎓 Michigan
🎓 Pitt
🎓 Boston U
🎓 George Washington
🎓 UTHealth
…and more.
———————————————
🎥 Watch my personal statement breakdown here:
Link:
PhD:
https://t.co/sYZT3tLVL5
Masters:
https://t.co/xKN8NJIq0t
Dont forget to subscribe….
———————————————
The idea isn’t for you to copy it word for word.
Your story is different from mine.
But the structure, flow, and key elements of a compelling personal statement?
Those are timeless.
————-
Grad school application cycles open soon.
Now is the best time to learn what works and why it works.
♻️ Save this for your application prep.
♻️Repost for others
Justice system is like cobwebs, it only trap small insects, the big animals just bulldozed their way through the cobwebs. It ain't strong enough to hold them accountable.
I am the Deputy Attorney General of the United States.
On Sunday, I declared the Epstein review "over."
On Monday, I explained what we found.
Nothing.
We found nothing.
3.5 million pages.
180,000 images.
2,000 videos.
Nothing prosecutable.
"It isn't a crime to party with Mr. Epstein."
That's what I told Fox News.
It isn't a crime to email with Mr. Epstein.
It isn't a crime to have lunch on his island.
The island where the crimes happened.
But having lunch there? Legal.
Someone showed me the photos.
Photos of powerful men.
Photos that "look pretty bad."
I said: "Unfortunately, photos can't speak."
This is true.
Photos cannot speak.
Neither can the victims who took them.
We released the videos.
All of them.
Except the ones showing "individuals having improper sex with victims."
Those we did not release.
Because those would be evidence.
And we already said there's no evidence.
The President's name appears 3,000 times in the files.
He says they "absolve" him.
I did not say that.
I said it isn't a crime to party.
The tips about the President were "anonymous" and "second-hand."
Not something that can be really investigated.
We did look at the tips.
Then we removed them from the public database.
They were there on Saturday.
Gone by Sunday.
I'm told this is called "transparency."
Someone asked if more prosecutions were coming.
I said: "I'll never say no."
Then I said: "But it isn't a crime to party."
Then I said: "The review is over."
The Clintons agreed to testify.
They reversed their position.
I assume they read the files.
I assume they saw what we're not prosecuting.
A congresswoman called last week's release "drip-feeding."
She called it "a cover-up."
I prefer "phased disclosure."
And now the disclosure is complete.
And the investigation is over.
And it isn't a crime to party with Mr. Epstein.
I want to be very clear about that.
The partying was legal.
The lunches were legal.
The emails were legal.
What happened after the parties—that was the crime.
But we can't prove what happened after.
Because photos can't speak.
And the review is over.
Anyway, justice has been served!
I am the Deputy Attorney General of the United States.
On Sunday, I declared the Epstein review "over."
On Monday, I explained what we found.
Nothing.
We found nothing.
3.5 million pages.
180,000 images.
2,000 videos.
Nothing prosecutable.
"It isn't a crime to party with Mr. Epstein."
That's what I told Fox News.
It isn't a crime to email with Mr. Epstein.
It isn't a crime to have lunch on his island.
The island where the crimes happened.
But having lunch there? Legal.
Someone showed me the photos.
Photos of powerful men.
Photos that "look pretty bad."
I said: "Unfortunately, photos can't speak."
This is true.
Photos cannot speak.
Neither can the victims who took them.
We released the videos.
All of them.
Except the ones showing "individuals having improper sex with victims."
Those we did not release.
Because those would be evidence.
And we already said there's no evidence.
The President's name appears 3,000 times in the files.
He says they "absolve" him.
I did not say that.
I said it isn't a crime to party.
The tips about the President were "anonymous" and "second-hand."
Not something that can be really investigated.
We did look at the tips.
Then we removed them from the public database.
They were there on Saturday.
Gone by Sunday.
I'm told this is called "transparency."
Someone asked if more prosecutions were coming.
I said: "I'll never say no."
Then I said: "But it isn't a crime to party."
Then I said: "The review is over."
The Clintons agreed to testify.
They reversed their position.
I assume they read the files.
I assume they saw what we're not prosecuting.
A congresswoman called last week's release "drip-feeding."
She called it "a cover-up."
I prefer "phased disclosure."
And now the disclosure is complete.
And the investigation is over.
And it isn't a crime to party with Mr. Epstein.
I want to be very clear about that.
The partying was legal.
The lunches were legal.
The emails were legal.
What happened after the parties—that was the crime.
But we can't prove what happened after.
Because photos can't speak.
And the review is over.
Anyway, justice has been served!
I'm the Chief Human-AI Synergy Officer at Microsoft.
My job is empowerment.
We cut 15,000 jobs this month.
That's also empowerment.
For the shareholders.
The President went to Davos.
He said "Can technology be a platform that enables people to get better?"
We enabled 15,000 people to get better.
At job hunting.
He said "We're going to use technology to help our employees get better themselves."
We helped them.
By replacing them.
With technology.
That's synergy.
70% of workers are anxious about AI.
30% of executives are anxious.
The executives are less anxious because they're not getting replaced.
They're doing the replacing.
That's leadership.
Workers say AI isn't saving them any time.
40% say it saves nothing.
Executives say AI saves them 8 hours a week.
The executives are right.
AI saves them 8 hours of managing people.
Who no longer work here.
We're "uplifting human talent."
Uplifting means some humans go up.
Others go out.
The door.
That's the lift.
Young workers aged 22 to 25 saw 16% employment decline.
In AI-exposed jobs.
The President said "This might be the best time to hire the best young people."
While we cut 15,000.
To make room.
For the young people.
We'll hire later.
After the severance clears.
He said "If the best we are today is the best we're ever going to be, computers will outpace us."
Computers outpaced 15,000 of us.
This month.
The rest are still racing.
I'm writing a memo now.
"Building a future where AI uplifts human talent."
Fewer humans.
More uplift.
That's synergy.
I'm in Corporate Communications.
Last Tuesday we laid off 2,400 people.
I wrote the announcement.
It took 11 drafts.
Draft 1 said "layoffs."
Legal said no.
Draft 2 said "job cuts."
HR said no.
Draft 3 said "workforce reduction."
The CEO said "too negative."
Draft 11 said "organizational restructuring to position the company for sustainable growth."
Everyone approved.
Same 2,400 people.
Different words.
Words matter.
To the stock price.
I wrote "difficult decision."
Difficult means we thought about it.
We thought about it for six months.
Then we did it anyway.
But we thought first.
That's empathy.
I wrote "we don't take this lightly."
We take it very lightly.
It's a spreadsheet.
Names. Salaries. Roles.
Delete.
Done.
But "lightly" sounds bad.
So we don't take it lightly.
I wrote "impacted employees."
Not "fired employees."
Not "people who can't pay rent."
"Impacted."
Like weather.
Natural.
Unavoidable.
Nobody's fault.
The CEO recorded a video.
He looked sad.
We did seven takes.
Take 1: Not sad enough.
Take 4: Too sad.
Take 7: Perfect sadness.
Authentic.
Rehearsed authentic.
That's the goal.
The email went out at 6 AM.
Pacific time.
Before markets opened.
Before journalists woke up.
Before employees knew.
Some found out on Twitter.
From reporters.
Before their managers called.
That wasn't the plan.
But it also was the plan.
We scheduled the manager calls for 6:15 AM.
Reporters refresh faster than managers dial.
A reporter asked for comment.
I said, "We're committed to supporting affected employees."
Supporting means two weeks severance.
Per year of service.
Capped at 12 weeks.
Maximum loyalty: 6 years.
After that, same payout.
Thanks for your service.
The stock went up 7%.
That's why we did it.
Not sustainable growth.
Not organizational efficiency.
The stock.
The CEO's options vest in March.
The timing is coincidental.
That's what I wrote.
In the internal FAQ.
"The timing is unrelated to executive compensation."
It's very related.
But unrelatedness is the message.
The message is my job.
I'm very good at my job.
Draft 11 proved it.
2,400 people.
Zero accountability.
All sustainable growth.
I'm a Director of Business Operations.
My job is OKRs.
OKR stands for Objectives and Key Results.
I've been doing this for six years.
I don't know what an objective is.
But I know it needs key results.
Three to five of them.
Per quarter.
We have 847 OKRs.
Nobody has read them.
Including me.
I wrote them.
At 2 AM.
Before a board meeting.
They're very strategic.
Last quarter I set an OKR to "improve OKR adoption."
The key result was "increase OKR completion rate by 40%."
We achieved it.
By changing what "completion" means.
Completion means someone opened the spreadsheet.
That's impact.
The CEO asked if OKRs improved performance.
I showed a chart.
The chart went up.
I didn't label what was going up.
But it was going up.
That's the important thing.
A product manager asked why her OKRs conflicted with her actual work.
I said "that's a prioritization opportunity."
She asked how to prioritize.
I said "align with company objectives."
She asked what the company objectives were.
I said "they're in the OKR document."
The document is 94 pages.
Nobody has read it.
Including me.
We do OKR reviews every quarter.
In the review, we review the OKRs.
Then we set new OKRs.
About the OKRs.
It's OKRs all the way down.
I made a dashboard for OKR health.
OKR health is measured by OKR engagement.
OKR engagement is measured by dashboard views.
I view the dashboard.
Every day.
Engagement is up 100%.
Last week Google announced they're abandoning OKRs.
Google invented OKRs.
I sent an email.
"This is why we're different."
"We're committed to the OKR framework."
Commitment means we already paid for the software.
$180,000 annually.
For a spreadsheet.
With colors.
The colors tell you if you're on track.
Nobody is on track.
But the colors are nice.
I'm up for promotion.
My OKR is to "drive organizational excellence."
I don't know what that means.
But I'll achieve it.
By defining what achievement means.
That's the key result.
I am the VP of Human Resources at a Fortune 500 company.
Last year I banned salary discussions.
I called it "Professional Etiquette Policy."
The handbook now says compensation conversations create "workplace friction."
Workplace friction means employees learning the truth.
HR loved it.
Legal loved it.
The board sent a fruit basket.
Here's how it works.
We pay new hires 47% more than five-year veterans doing the same job.
I call that "competitive market adjustment."
Competitive market adjustment means we'll pay strangers more than we'll pay loyalty.
Marcus has been here eleven years.
He trained six people.
Five of them now make more than him.
The sixth one is his manager.
Marcus got a "non-monetary recognition opportunity" last quarter.
Non-monetary recognition opportunity means a $25 Amazon gift card and a LinkedIn post.
His manager got a Tesla.
When someone asks about raises, we schedule a "development conversation."
Development conversation means we talk about their "growth areas" until they forget why they came.
Growth areas means we've identified reasons to not pay you.
Last month, Sarah from Product mentioned her salary at lunch.
Out loud.
At a table.
With witnesses.
I was alerted within seven minutes.
We have a system.
HR scheduled a "perspective alignment session."
Perspective alignment means we explained that sharing salary information is "toxic behavior."
Toxic behavior is any behavior that costs us money.
We didn't fire Sarah.
That would be illegal.
We put her on a "performance improvement plan."
Performance improvement plan means documented path to termination.
She quit three weeks later.
We called that "self-selecting out."
Self-selecting out means we made you so miserable you left on your own.
We saved her severance.
I put it toward the new wellness program.
Wellness program means a meditation app subscription instead of a raise.
We also added yoga during lunch.
This is our burnout prevention strategy.
Burnout prevention means we acknowledge burnout exists and do nothing about it.
Some employees started a Slack channel.
It was called #fair-pay-discussion.
I found out in forty-three minutes.
We have a system.
I didn't delete it.
That would be obvious.
I asked IT to add me as a silent observer.
This is called "listening to employee feedback."
Listening to employee feedback means surveillance with better branding.
Then I identified the creator.
It was David from Engineering.
David had three promotions in four years.
David had "leadership potential."
Now David has a "development opportunity."
Development opportunity means he's really failing.
I explained this at the all-hands meeting.
I said: "We don't discuss compensation because we respect each other."
I said: "Money isn't everything. Culture is our currency."
Culture is just HR's mood board.
I said: "We're a family here."
We're a family here means no boundaries plus low pay.
Everyone clapped.
They thought I was being sincere.
I was being strategic.
Last quarter, Jake from Finance figured out the spreadsheet.
He realized his entire department was underpaid by 23%.
He printed charts.
He had data.
He asked for a meeting with leadership.
Leadership said yes.
Leadership is very transparent.
Transparent communication means we can't tell you anything, but we'll pretend to listen.
Jake presented for forty-seven minutes.
CFO nodded thoughtfully.
CEO took notes.
I said: "This is very valuable. Your voice matters."
Your voice matters means your voice has been noted.
We'll take it under advisement.
Take it under advisement means forget about it by Thursday.
Jake waited two weeks.
Then a month.
Then he sent a follow-up email.
I replied: "We're exploring strategic options."
Exploring strategic options means panicking.
Also means stalling.
Mostly means stalling.
Jake quit six weeks later.
Took a job paying 34% more.
We posted his role at 41% above his old salary.
Competitive market adjustment.
Someone in the exit interview asked why we didn't just give Jake the raise.
That person is no longer with the company.
They self-selected out.
The numbers are beautiful.
We saved $2.3 million in raises last year.
$847,000 the year before.
This year we're projecting $3.1 million.
The board calls it "operational efficiency."
Operational efficiency means divide and conquer.
I explained our philosophy to a new CHRO at a conference.
She asked: "Isn't this just wage suppression through information asymmetry?"
I said: "We prefer 'compensation culture optimization.'"
She wrote it down.
Employees think it's fair play.
They think everyone else makes the same.
They think asking about money is rude.
We taught them that.
In the handbook.
In the onboarding.
In the "culture-first initiative" videos.
Culture-first initiative means forced return to office.
But also means shaping beliefs.
We are shaping beliefs.
Last week, I overheard two analysts in the kitchen.
One said: "I heard the new guy makes six figures."
The other said: "That's probably just a rumor. They'd never do that."
She's right.
We would never do that.
We would never admit to doing that.
The new guy makes $142,000.
She makes $87,000.
They do the same job.
I smiled.
Sipped my coffee.
Went back to my office.
The system is working.
HR isn't about helping people.
HR is about helping the company look like it helps people.
My bonus last year was $340,000.
I got a plaque that said "People Champion."
It's hanging on my wall.
Right next to the Glassdoor reviews I had removed.
Last year I eliminated our PTO policy.
I called it "unlimited."
The board loved it.
HR loved it.
Finance really loved it.
Let me explain why Finance loved it.
Under the old policy, employees accrued 18 days per year. Unused days carried over. When employees quit, we owed them money. Cash. For days they earned but didn't take.
That's a liability. On the books. $4.7 million in accrued PTO across 2,300 employees.
I made it disappear.
With one policy change.
"Unlimited PTO."
You can't accrue what's infinite. You can't owe what was never counted. The liability vanished. $4.7 million. Gone.
The CFO sent me a bottle of wine.
I told employees it was about "trust and flexibility."
It was about the balance sheet.
But "balance sheet optimization" doesn't fit on a careers page.
"Unlimited PTO" does.
We updated the job postings.
Applications increased 23%.
People love unlimited.
Until they try to use it.
Under the old policy, employees took an average of 17 days per year.
Under unlimited, they take 11.
That's not a bug.
That's the design.
When PTO is a number, people take the number. It's theirs. They earned it. Managers can't argue with a number.
When PTO is "unlimited," people take nothing.
Because unlimited comes with questions.
"Is this a good time?"
"Who's covering?"
"What will people think?"
The guilt does the enforcement.
I don't have to say no.
The culture says no.
I just built the culture.
We track time-off requests in Workday. I see everything.
A senior engineer requested two weeks in July.
His manager approved it.
Officially.
Then sent a Slack message.
"Totally fine. Just wanted to flag that the Erikson deliverable overlaps. Probably fine. Just flagging."
The engineer took four days.
Unlimited means whatever your anxiety allows.
For most people, that's less than before.
Some employees don't take any PTO.
We call them "high performers."
They get promoted.
Then they manage others.
They don't approve much PTO either.
The system self-replicates.
A recruiter asked how we "stay competitive."
I said, "Unlimited PTO."
She asked how much people actually take.
I said, "That's not tracked."
It is tracked.
I have a dashboard.
I don't share the dashboard.
We did an employee survey.
84% said they "appreciated the flexibility of unlimited PTO."
12% said they "wished they felt more comfortable taking time off."
We published the 84%.
The 12% went in a folder.
The folder is called "Noted."
I don't open that folder.
Someone in engineering asked if we could go back to accrued PTO.
I said, "That would limit your flexibility."
He said he wanted limits.
I said, "That's not aligned with our culture of trust."
He stopped asking.
Trust is a funny word.
I trust employees to feel too guilty to use their benefits.
They trust me to frame that guilt as freedom.
That's the deal.
I'm presenting at an HR conference next month.
The session is called "Unlimited PTO: Building a Culture of Ownership."
Ownership means employees own their guilt.
I own the savings.
The policy costs us nothing.
Because employees take nothing.
And call it a benefit.
I'll be VP of People by Q2.
Unlimited upside.
Last quarter I rolled out Microsoft Copilot to 4,000 employees.
$30 per seat per month.
$1.4 million annually.
I called it "digital transformation."
The board loved that phrase.
They approved it in eleven minutes.
No one asked what it would actually do.
Including me.
I told everyone it would "10x productivity."
That's not a real number.
But it sounds like one.
HR asked how we'd measure the 10x.
I said we'd "leverage analytics dashboards."
They stopped asking.
Three months later I checked the usage reports.
47 people had opened it.
12 had used it more than once.
One of them was me.
I used it to summarize an email I could have read in 30 seconds.
It took 45 seconds.
Plus the time it took to fix the hallucinations.
But I called it a "pilot success."
Success means the pilot didn't visibly fail.
The CFO asked about ROI.
I showed him a graph.
The graph went up and to the right.
It measured "AI enablement."
I made that metric up.
He nodded approvingly.
We're "AI-enabled" now.
I don't know what that means.
But it's in our investor deck.
A senior developer asked why we didn't use Claude or ChatGPT.
I said we needed "enterprise-grade security."
He asked what that meant.
I said "compliance."
He asked which compliance.
I said "all of them."
He looked skeptical.
I scheduled him for a "career development conversation."
He stopped asking questions.
Microsoft sent a case study team.
They wanted to feature us as a success story.
I told them we "saved 40,000 hours."
I calculated that number by multiplying employees by a number I made up.
They didn't verify it.
They never do.
Now we're on Microsoft's website.
"Global enterprise achieves 40,000 hours of productivity gains with Copilot."
The CEO shared it on LinkedIn.
He got 3,000 likes.
He's never used Copilot.
None of the executives have.
We have an exemption.
"Strategic focus requires minimal digital distraction."
I wrote that policy.
The licenses renew next month.
I'm requesting an expansion.
5,000 more seats.
We haven't used the first 4,000.
But this time we'll "drive adoption."
Adoption means mandatory training.
Training means a 45-minute webinar no one watches.
But completion will be tracked.
Completion is a metric.
Metrics go in dashboards.
Dashboards go in board presentations.
Board presentations get me promoted.
I'll be SVP by Q3.
I still don't know what Copilot does.
But I know what it's for.
It's for showing we're "investing in AI."
Investment means spending.
Spending means commitment.
Commitment means we're serious about the future.
The future is whatever I say it is.
As long as the graph goes up and to the right.