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.
Just got back from an emergency all-hands about the Windows patch that won't let you shut down your computer.
I told IT this is actually a feature.
If employees can't turn off their laptops, they're always available.
That's what I call maximizing bandwidth.
Our internal metrics showed a 847% increase in "device engagement time" since Tuesday.
I put that in the board deck.
The chart had a rocket ship on it.
Nobody questioned why the Y-axis started at negative forty.
Microsoft calls it a "Secure Launch bug" but I call it an opportunity to pivot our hybrid work strategy.
I sent a company-wide email explaining that this aligns perfectly with our North Star of seamless connectivity.
I don't know what Secure Launch does.
I assume it launches things securely.
The IT director tried to explain something about "boot sequences" and "authentication protocols" but I had a hard stop for my other hard stop.
I told him to take it offline.
He said that was literally the problem.
I nodded like I understood.
We're now requiring all employees to keep their laptops open during sleep hours in case of urgent Slack messages.
I'm calling it "Ambient Availability."
The wellness team said this might cause burnout.
I reminded them that burnout is just passion that hasn't been properly leveraged.
I saw that on LinkedIn.
A guy with 47 million followers said it.
He sells NFTs now.
Our Q1 stakeholder alignment survey showed that 112% of employees feel "always on."
That's twelve percent more than we have employees.
I call that exceeding expectations.
The patch notes mentioned something about "trusted platform modules" which sounds like exactly what we need for our new cross-functional synergy initiative.
I've asked Legal to trademark it.
Anyway I need to go.
My laptop won't turn off and the fan sounds like a helicopter.
IT says it's "thermal throttling."
I assume that's good.
Throttling implies control.
I'm in control.
The screen is very hot now.
This is fine.
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 September I announced mandatory return-to-office.
Five days a week.
I called it a "culture-first initiative."
Culture means presence.
Presence means badge swipes.
Badge swipes mean metrics.
Metrics mean I can prove something to the board.
I don't know what.
But I can prove it.
The announcement went out on a Tuesday.
I sent it from my home office.
In Aspen.
I have an exemption.
"Strategic leaders require location flexibility to maintain global perspective."
I wrote that policy.
HR approved it.
HR approves everything I write.
By Wednesday, 340 employees had updated their LinkedIn status to "Open to Work."
I called it "natural attrition."
Natural attrition means they quit before I had to pay severance.
Very natural.
We lost 47 engineers in the first month.
I told the board it was "alignment correction."
The people who left weren't aligned.
With coming to an office.
That I also don't come to.
But that's different.
I'm strategic.
The office costs $4.2 million per year.
Empty, it was a write-off.
Now it's a "collaboration hub."
I measured collaboration.
Average daily Zoom calls from the office: 7.4 per employee.
They commute 45 minutes.
To take calls they could take from home.
But now they're "present."
Presence is culture.
I've never been more certain of anything.
A senior engineer asked why we couldn't stay remote.
She had metrics.
Productivity was up 23% during remote work.
I said, "Productivity isn't everything."
She asked what else mattered.
I said, "Serendipitous collisions."
She asked how we measure serendipitous collisions.
I said, "You can't. That's what makes them serendipitous."
She stopped asking questions.
Then she stopped showing up.
Then LinkedIn said she's at a company that's "remote-first."
Good luck with that.
They'll learn.
We installed badge tracking software.
It cost $380,000.
It tells me exactly when people arrive.
And when they leave.
And how long they spend in each zone.
I check it every morning.
From home.
The data is fascinating.
Average arrival time: 9:47 AM.
Average departure time: 4:12 PM.
I sent a Slack message.
"Core hours are 9 to 6."
Arrival times shifted to 9:02 AM.
Departure times shifted to 6:01 PM.
Productivity did not change.
But the metrics look better.
Metrics are culture.
We have a "hybrid" option now.
Three days in office.
Mandatory Monday. Mandatory Wednesday. Mandatory Friday.
That's called "hybrid."
Because Tuesday and Thursday are optional.
But there are "anchor meetings" on Tuesday and Thursday.
Attendance is "strongly encouraged."
"Strongly encouraged" means mandatory without the liability.
I learned that from legal.
The head of product asked if he could work from home when his wife had surgery.
I said, "Of course. Family comes first."
Then I said, "But let's revisit your Q4 performance targets."
He came to the office.
His wife understood.
I assume.
I didn't ask.
That's personal.
The CFO asked about ROI on the RTO policy.
I showed him the badge data.
"Presence is up 340%."
He asked if revenue was up.
I said, "Revenue is a lagging indicator."
He asked what the leading indicator was.
I said, "Badge swipes."
He nodded.
The lease renews next year.
Seven more years.
$29 million committed.
We needed bodies in the building.
Now we have bodies.
Fewer than before.
But present.
Morale is down.
Glassdoor says we're "hostile to work-life balance."
I told HR to respond.
They wrote, "We're a high-performance culture that values in-person collaboration."
That's corporate for "the review is accurate."
But it sounds like a rebuttal.
The CEO asked if RTO was working.
I said, "Absolutely."
He asked for evidence.
I showed him a photo of the office.
Full desks. Glowing monitors. Bodies in chairs.
He smiled.
"This is what culture looks like."
It looked like a stock photo.
Because I got it from a stock photo website.
The real office has 40% occupancy on a good day.
But he doesn't know that.
He's also remote.
We're both strategic.
Next quarter I'm proposing a "collaboration bonus."
$2,000 for anyone with 95% badge-in compliance.
The bonus costs less than the turnover.
And it shifts the narrative.
We're not forcing people to come in.
We're "incentivizing presence."
Incentivizing means paying people to do something they don't want to do.
It's different from mandating.
Legally.
The employees who stayed are "loyal."
Loyalty means they have mortgages.
And kids in school districts.
And RSUs that haven't vested.
They're not loyal.
They're trapped.
But on paper, it looks like loyalty.
And paper is what the board sees.
I've been doing this for 22 years.
I know what culture looks like.
It looks like butts in seats.
Butts in seats mean control.
Control means management.
Management means me.
RTO isn't about productivity.
It never was.
It's about seeing people.
So I know they exist.
So I know they're working.
So I know I'm in charge.
That's culture.
As long as the badge swipes go up and to the right.
If the United States deploys troops to forcibly remove Muslims and Christians—like my cousins—from Gaza, then not only will the U.S. be mired in another reckless occupation but it will also be guilty of the crime of ethnic cleansing. No American of good conscience should stand for this.