Kath Lockett reflects on giving in to the shame of wearing the universal badge of a drone
Photo: LAGtheNoggin
Ever since I started work as a bright-eyed, bushy-tailed graduate trainee in 1989, every workplace has had some kind of security card access for entry into the building. This common sense approach to preventing robberies or lunatics entering the building (ones not on the payroll at least) is commendable and was not worthy of much introspection on my part.
What I always refused to do, however, was to encase the entry card in a plastic sleeve and then wear it around my neck on a lanyard.
For people with lives, a ‘lanyard’ is one of those ribbon string things that kids normally use to hang their tamagotchis from, and I sure as hell didn’t want to be seen wearing one for the greater part of my waking hours.
You see, they make the wearer look as though they are trying to be important: all they need is the white lab-coat to complete the picture of being able to gain top-secret access into the underground nuclear bunker that also houses Elvis, the Loch Ness Monster, Big Foot and the Tasmanian Tiger.
The curse of the lanyard
Instead, they remind me of beings so unimportant that the ability to keep a card in their pocket or wallet is beyond them, as is using their hands to hold one. The lanyard wearers I’ve encountered also tend to be the types that have hobbies that earn a polite “Oh,” in response before quickly walking away/finding someone more interesting to talk to during the first aid course’s morning tea break.
“Oh . . . so you make your own toothpaste?”
“Oh . . . a shrine to the group Supertramp?”
“Oh . . . I wondered why you were rhythmically slapping your head with the Windows XP User Manual.”
On the other hand, if the ‘Lanyard Loser’ in question isn’t sad, certifiable or just odd, they are often deeply, deeply committed to their work. Some of those entry cards are no longer white and rectangular but grotty brown ovals with the plastic covering curling up at the corners revealing ancient, blobby grey adhesive stains.
The first impression given off by the wearer then naturally leads to the assumption that:
- you aren’t willing to shake their hand;
- they have worked here since saving up their first pay cheque for that groovy new BETAMAX video recorder; and
- no longer have spouses or houses to go home to.
“Hey Kath, how come you’ve declined the meeting I’ve scheduled for 7am on Monday? What about if I make it 6.15pm this Friday instead?”
“Aw come on, we need you to make up the final team member in the Touch Rugby/Volleyball/HopScotch Thursday Lunchtime Final!”
Surrender!
In spite of my derision and decision, I eventually gave up and got a lanyard. My employer’s maintenance office had called for the final time to express their annoyance at having my entry card handed in more regularly than a sex-education library book. I had left it in the toilets, the mailroom, the coffee shop, the deli, the chocolate vending machine, the research kitchen, the car park, ‘FoodLand’, the chemist’s and ‘Price Slashers Discount Variety Store.’ One more time and they were considering revoking my access and leaving me to rely on the punctuality of others to let me in.
That situation would definitely not do. Hanging my head in shame, I shuffled into the local bookshop, pointed reluctantly to one hanging behind Debbie the cashier and muttered, “One of those please.” Moments later I exited the store with my posture slumped badly enough for me to get far-too-close-a-look at my navel: the damn lanyard was weighing me down with the sheer mass of dagginess and conformity. All I needed now was to go the whole hog and get myself a pair of vinyl slip-ons, knee-high stockings and a cable-knit cardigan.
Maybe tomorrow. I won’t have time to shop after watering the pot plants, placing the fortnightly stationery order and counting the plastic document holders . . .
Technorati Tags: office humor, conformity, becoming a drone
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August 7th, 2008 at 2:30 am
How ironic is it that this article is about the losers who wear lanyards and the Google targeted ads are for “badge holder lanyard” and “ID badge holder guide?”
August 7th, 2008 at 7:24 am
I guess Google’s computers haven’t been programmed for irony yet. I dread to imagine what advertisements they would produce if they were. Keep reading, my friend.
August 8th, 2008 at 6:53 am
The thing is, companies that actually care about security will require you to wear your card, not hide it in a pocket, so that people can tell at a glance that you are a genuine employee, rather than someone who tailgated a real employee into the building.
You can clip it to a belt or pocket, instead of putting on a lanyard, of course…
August 8th, 2008 at 11:44 am
Do most companies warrant this level of security in the first place? twenty plus years ago this practice was reserved to workplaces that one would associate with high levels of confidentiality / risk.
Has society become so much more dangerous and unpredictable in the meantime that we require this kind of access restriction for “everyday” office buildings? I think not- in spite of a handful of highly publicized murderous incidents.
This article is meant for the sake of humor, but I would point out that there is, in fact, something demeaning and dehumanizing in having to wear such a badge in this fashion.
I imagine such badges once connoted a sense of “prestige” of belonging to a select club with elevated access and trust. Now they connote that the wearer has been “processed” and deemed not to be an immediate danger to the companies interests.
Whats next, and where do you personally draw the line when it comes to the development and evolution of this concept? Would you allow an employer to surgically implant a security device in, say, your forearm? What comes next, and when does concept become an insult to your dignity?
August 9th, 2008 at 6:43 am
Yeah, this is a tough one for me actually. I’d never want to belittle the idea of security - even here in relatively sleepy South Australia, our head of Psychiatry was shot dead as she exited an elevator - but taking things to extremes doesn’t work either.
What I tend to find is that we humans will reject being forced to wear, behave or imbibe stuff that’s over-the-top in a variety of passive/aggressive ways that get our point across. My current lanyard has a heap of yellow smiley faces on it and I have taken to wearing it like a belt instead of around my neck. Makes me feel less like an old heifer being led to market and more like it’s my own choice. Sort of.
The best thing is to laugh about it, that’s for sure. Either that or you get angry or cry! OH and the day Google recognises irony will be even funnier.
August 12th, 2008 at 10:33 pm
Thanks for a funny post. I’ve always had a problem with lanyards too. I’m glad I’m not the only one!
I keep my ID card in my wallet — I refuse to wear what looks to me like a dog collar. If someone needs to know who I am, they can very well ask me…