The Value of Anthropology and Office Agitators

Anthropology. People often joke about the little value afforded by a college major in the Arts, especially English, philosophy, and anthropology. There seems to be no occupations, other than professorships, that demand such degrees to entry. As a result, excuses are made intimating that folks who devoted themselves to such fiscally irresponsible disciplines are at the very least probably very bright, able to learn quickly, or when all else fails, "well-rounded."

Nonetheless, though parents cringe at the thought of a child spending or borrowing thousands to complete these courses of study, there is some grudging admiration by the general public, sort of like the admiration awarded ascetics. "It's crazy....but, Cheers!" It's been said that the powerful and successful admire martyrs and saints because anyone sacrificing so much, or acting so crazy, must know something that the powerful and successful don't know, or at least, the sacrifice must display some extraordinary hidden power. And considering the force of the ambitious drive in the successful (not those born into success), I'm sure they are amazed at anyone who seems to be able to resist similar urges.

Value in today's world. Nonetheless, my anthropology major, and graduate work, would have saved this office from further slippage into the morass of retardacity (audacity met with breathtakingly retarded vision and development in the face of seemingly limitless promise) that is "the corporate world."

Here's the situation. I started this lifestyle (calling it a job probably doesn't do it justice) dressed to the nines in tailored suits, set off by charming ties chosen by my wife. I discovered very quickly (by observation and gentle ribbing by superiors) that I was overdressed. So, I duly moved in the direction of comfortable slovenliness. But I soon discovered that nice looking jeans paired with a dress shirt and topped with a blazer and dress shoes not only looked smart, but was very comfortable and hippish. Fortunately, there was absolutely no dress policy. Nonetheless, warily, I chose jeans for Fridays only, and looked bland and boring the rest of the week. My neighbor chided me, disapprovingly, but I refused to cower to his amorphous references to "office casual," whatever that is.

And then, as part of a larger program of codification, the firm loosed a dress-code-lite, full of exceptions. In it was the standard: don't look too hot (sexy/sensual) and don't wear jeans. But since there was absolutely no enforcement mechanism (enforcement is very much against our culture here), I made a strategic choice...cut back for a while, and then slowly bring back the jeans, always with the appropriate riders, viz. dress shirt, blazer, cuff links, etc.

But then my fellow associates made an error that no anthro major would have ever made: during a charity drive to raise money from the associates, they asked the partners if they could have a "jeans day" if a certain amount of money was raised. By begging the exception, they created the rule. Fools, us all.

Today's Rule: smile alone more often.