A few weeks ago ESPN dumped
some of its grossly overpaid on-air “personalities” in a mass layoff. This set
off the expected boo-hoo-ing in the media. How could ESPN put all those nice
people out of work? ESPN bosses are such meanies! This is awful! Such bad times
in the media industry and those people had to suffer! Upper management is
stupid and to blame, and those people didn’t deserve to lose their jobs!
Really? Tell me about it. I’ve
been laid off twice and have never gotten such expressions of sympathy. My
twitter feed (which has many sport writers on it because of my baseball
obsession) burst with heartfelt condolences to those now-former ESPN’ers. Me?
Most I got was “sorry to hear that” from friends and family. After my second
layoff, my sister — my sister! — sent me a text that said, “Bet you were
surprised.” Not exactly comforting, eh? My former co-workers? Most have cut all
contact with me after I was booted. Hey, guys, my job was sacrificed to save
yours! Doesn’t that warrant a thank you, guys. Guys? Hello? Anybody remember
me?
The ESPN layoffs got me
thinking. (Freelance work is slow now, so I have time to think. Maybe not a
good thing that is.) Everybody can agree that layoffs are bad and hurtful. Losing
a job is never a pleasant experience for anybody, no matter their profession.
Yet we seem to have a double standard when it comes to parceling out sympathy
to those who have been laid off. People who are public figures, or semi-public
figures, like the ESPN’ers, amass an outpouring of compassion, even though
their cushy salaries and marketable names make it almost a lock they will ride
their brief period of unemployment without any injury to their bank accounts.
Most will end up writing for one of those sports websites that sprout like dandelions
in spring (and will be lucky to last two years). So should we really feel sorry
for them?
So, yeah, public figures
tend to engender sympathy when they lose their jobs — as opposed to the
faceless, nameless editors and journalists cast out by their callous overloads
at newspapers and media companies
Politicians, too, single out
certain professions for our sympathy when workers toiling in those fields lose
their jobs en masse. Like coal miners
and steelworkers. But I wonder if those same politicians will direct their
attention to all the retail workers headed to the unemployment line when hoary
retailers like Sears and JCPenney shutter stores?
Why a double standard? Aren’t
we all victims of the same societal upheavals: shifting consumer tastes and consumption
habits, technology rendering some workers obsolete, and a rapidly evolving job
market that requires new skills many workers simply don’t have. Weren’t we all
sacrificed for management’s brain-dead decisions? Like ESPN paying billions of
dollars — yes, billions! — for the rights to NFL and NBA games.
And aren’t we all victims of
cruel upper management; indifferent boards of directors; and ruthless investment
bankers — all locked on profits and merciless cost cutting. Workers be damned!
We want more $$$ to our bottom line (and obscene executive pay).
The ESPN fiasco highlights another
trend I’ve been seeing lately in layoffs. My former
workplace(s) recently laid off a number of my former co-workers (more on
that in another post). This time, however, instead of ditching some low or
mid-level salesperson or editor, the powers that be targeted several higher up
editors and executives (including the horrible drunken boss who bullied me for
16 years). Layoffs have definitely moved up the corporate totem pole. Makes
sense — there are only so many secretaries and assistant editors you can lay
off before upper management takes aim at higher salaried but useless employees.
Pretty soon those same upper
management drones will be without a job. Will anybody feel sorry for them?
