These Days, a Boss Is Lucky If the Lackeys Applaud : Working: The year-end review of ‘expense cutbacks’ only reminds the gang of who’s missing at the office party.

There was no clapping or cheering. The boss stood at the podium giving the usual Christmas-party state-of-the-company speech and everyone sat there silent, just looking back at him.

It’s been a tough year.

The boss is an all-right guy. He knows computers backward and forward, helped develop a new system that tied everyone in the office together. He runs the whole show now. Last year, there were two bosses.

Last year, there was also complimentary wine at the tables.

The boss started to brag on a list of achievements, percentage points measuring improvements--17% fewer errors, 12% more production, those things. It’s a company where everything is tied to a computer, where even finger movements can be counted.

“Your daily keystroke average is down 1.3% from last month,” the supervisor can say. “Is there anything you’d like to talk about?” God help us.

A handful of the boss’s closest employees began to applaud as he continued to list achievements. It’s a national company and they were sitting at a table with the man from district headquarters.

Finally, the last statistic, “Expenses have been reduced 30%,” the boss said. But at this, even the lackeys stayed silent.

Because those expenses, the incredible 30% savings, were the walking, breathing workers who weren’t here anymore. This scalp on the boss’s belt was the friend we’d been drinking free wine with the year before.

We didn’t want to hear about them at Christmas. They’re supposed to be invisible, in the shadows somewhere, lurking with their children, checking forms on free school lunches and planning how to deal with the home mortgage people. Or they’re working sub-$5 an hour jobs at Wal-Mart, stocking shelves at Target on the early morning shift, filling out applications at the McDonalds in the next town, where their neighbors might not see them.

I guess most of us were hoping we’d get through the night without remembering.

Maybe it’s just that bosses who understand the new business math don’t know how workers feel. It’s no great achievement that you can now find a parking spot in the company lot.

There’s more that’s changed than just no free wine. You look around, check the tables, wonder who’ll survive till the company picnic.

The boss ends his speech. “Merry Christmas,” he says, and sits down.

Happy New Year. You walk to the bar and pay for a glass of wine.