Honesty and Cannibals

There is something deeply disturbing when, during a perfectly open conversation, one's manager admits that his allegiance is not with the people that he manages, not with the product that he aims to produce, not to the clients of the software, but to his own manager.

I am thoroughly baffled by the combination of bare honesty and striving self-preservation. What is the story behind it? Has the project's atmosphere declined so far and so quickly that it has driven a sensible and clever man to abandon all hope of fine software, in favor of looking after Number One?

Or do I witness that rare breed, the Plain-Sight Machiavelli? "It's all about me, and I'm not sorry."

For someone who (perhaps pathologically) clings to honesty as a core value, I can't help but admire this character trait I have found so lacking in the team. Whether it's people who are not honest with themselves about their own capabilities, or those who fabricate stories to instigate others, I have grown tired of masquerades.

I hope to be plain as day to all comers, but I also beg them to make their own judgements based on their experiences. Recently, on the encouragement of a kind, seasoned colleague, I was just as plain to my manager about the way things seem to be going on the team.

In return, he showed reciprocal frankness which gave me hope. Until this last admission. It showed me exactly how naive I have been in my belief that honesty is everything. In one simple and direct statement, he taught me that, unfortunately, there is no guaranteed correlation between truth and trust.

Said the cannibal to his friend, "You look awfully nice today..."