The Phyllis Factor

Generally, I am one of those guys who accepts advances in technology well. Actually, that is a blatant lie. I am one of those guys who goes out and buys new technology as soon as I hear about it.

When I went out into the working world, there were no digital recorders, or computers. We dictated letters and reports on cassettes (and, later, mini-cassettes and micro cassettes) and I even worked with one fellow who still dictated onto Dictaphone "belts". The results were produced on IBM Selectric typewriters (costing up to $2000 each!) and the office copy was made with carbon paper.

Over the years I gleefully embraced the move from typewriters to computers, from bicycle couriers and Telex's to fax machines and from having your secretary lie about your whereabouts to using cell phone to lie about your whereabouts. Okay, I was never big on voice mail.

I bought into the idea of the digital office and, when I sold my company and went back out on my own, I did so with minimal space, and no support staff. I bought into the idea that an investment in technology would allow me to run a leaner (hah!), meaner and more profitable enterprise.

But, I didn't count on the Phyllis factor. Phyllis was my first secretary, and she has been replaced by Microsoft Outlook, and various other databases.

Sure, I can tell Outlook when my appointments should occur. I can create a to-do list, and I can create letters, using templates, faster than Phyllis ever could. But Outlook has a major flaw: it isn't mean.

Phyllis would march into my office and announce that she was out of dictation. Generally, she had half a dozen files in her hand when she did this, and the reasonable inference was that I had better dictate on them right away, or incur the wrath of Phyllis. I can't tell you how many times I dictated a report on the first file and gave her that one tape, in order to buy some time to finish off the other five. If I had nothing to dictate, she would want to know why. Wasn't there someone I call see, call or interview that would produce a result that I could dictate on? My diary was always up to date, and I always logged a lot of billable time for dictation.

Frankly, the woman scared the hell out of me and ensured increased productivity.

I have had a few Phyllis's over the intervening years; none better, some good, some not so good. They were all very lovely, very dedicated, and extremely mean.

When Outlook first came out, I loved the fact that it lacked Phyllis' mean streak. And that it had both "snooze" and "dismiss" buttons. Neither of these were options on the original model Phyllis. Unfortunately, by the time I figured out the real value of the Phyllis's of the world they had, for the most part, become obsolete. The ones that are left are called Executive Assistants, and are just too damned expensive to have in the average office.

Ah, progress!