Skip Navigation

Work Ethics

by Bill Martin  

            In the 90's the company I worked for, Hand-Held Products, Inc., now part of Honeywell, developed and marketed a barcode-based system which tracked the activities of security, maintenance and safety personnel. The system consisted of a hand-held scanner known as the Micro-Wand and the company's proprietary software.

            Using the Wand, a maintenance employee, safety engineer or security officer scanned a barcode label affixed to the equipment or location to be inspected. The Wand automatically recorded in its memory the date, time, location, specific unit of equipment and the employee's ID. After the inspection tour was completed, the Wand's data was up-loaded to a PC, the data transfer and the PC both under the control of our software.
            Depending on the task involved, the Wand could also prompt the employee, via its screen, to enter readings such as temperature, RPM, and pressure on the Wand's keyboard. Any anomalies such as air leaks or excess vibration could easily be recorded by scanning an appropriate incident barcode from a pocket-sized, laminated incident card. These incidents became part of the inspection transaction for a particular location or piece of equipment. Reports could then be generated highlighting action initiated by the employee or problems requiring remedial action.
            Because our system helped our customers' managers prove they were in compliance with maintenance and safety regulations, their insurance companies loved it. But for the troops it could be a different story. For some employees the scanners were a source of pride, proving how responsible they were. For others, they constituted a threat.
            While the Wand told no lies, it could be silenced in ways that were a never-ending challenge for our repair techs. Returned equipment clearly was dropped from upper floors, drowned in toilets, run over by security vehicles, even microwaved along with morning bagels. The latter form of sabotage was particularly puzzling - the scanners showed no signs of exterior abuse, yet many of the internal components were fried.
            One instance of malignant neglect started with a distress call from the safety manager of a large GM plant that was field testing our product. This was a 5 million sq. ft. power transmission facility, a mile long from front to back. Most of the production equipment consisted of enormous metal cutting and stamping machines, operating at high speeds and high temperatures. Essential to their continuous and efficient operation were specially formulated cutting oils that were continually circulated to cool and lubricate the cutting tools and the parts being produced.
            When we arrived the safety manager took us to the plant floor. "Can you see the mist?" he asked. "Can you smell it? Are your eyes burning yet?"  Workers were going home early with respiratory problems, burning eyes, and so on. And he knew why: the huge fans above the production machines were not filtering the evaporating cutting oil as they should. He also knew who was responsible: the third shift maintenance workers tasked with periodically changing the filters on the fans were not doing their jobs.
            We asked, "Why?"
            "Because they're sleeping. And they're sleeping because their seniority allows them to 'work' third shift, and, in turn, that allows them to sleep. Nobody's watching them. That's why they volunteer for third shift." He went on, irritation rising. "Your scanner should tell me if the job is getting done, right? Does it show who's doing his job and who isn't? Does it generate compliance reports?"
            "Yup," we replied, "all of the above."
            "Well then, the party's over!" he exclaimed; not the first time we heard that expression.
            We didn't sell our system to that plant. Guess why? "Union objections," we were told.
            I suppose it was fortunate, in a way, that this plant didn't purchase our system. With the attitude of these maintenance workers and the apparent lack of effective supervision, our Wands would have been sabotaged in ways that would eclipse any previous damage.
            This was not the last time I encountered sleeping on the job. On more than one occasion as I assisted a new customer in setting up barcode labels throughout a plant, I encountered in remote corners mattresses on the floor, often occupied with a slumbering worker - mid-shift. Obviously, nobody was watching these guys, either. In a union environment, seniority can breed abuse of responsible behavior.
            Where are the supervisors? Where is OSHA? If the daily shift workers are complaining, why doesn't management respond? Unless such practices can be accurately documented, how can malpractice be proven? This was no doubt what this safety manager was attempting to accomplish with our system.
            The safety manager's frustration, as well as the sabotage of our Wands, reveals the dark side of work place ethics. Especially in some large facilities the inmates are allowed to run the asylum. There is a lot of blame to go around: inattentive management, over-worked, or intimidated supervisors, union power, lazy employees, and years of entrenched behavior patterns. Unacceptable work ethics have been redefined and tolerated to the point that they become the norm.
            This is not a universal indictment, but unethical behavior does exist. Because of the Wand, I had a ring-side seat to such behavior. Because our system was designed to demonstrate compliance with standards and regulations, it reflected on the person responsible to do the work - for good or for bad. An employee taking short cuts or derelict in his duties will resent the intrusion; especially if the Wand is not only looking over his shoulder but is actually seeing if he does his job properly.
            "Whoops, it slipped out of my hand while I was walking across the cat walk!" Stuff happens.
            I can imagine subsequent discussions between management and one of the security/safety supervisors. "Charlie, I just approved repair orders for three more of those damn wands. What the hell is going on down there?"
            "I gotta tell you, boss, the guys tell me these things just don't hold up in our environment. They try to keep them in the holsters and all, but during the tours, for some reason they can conk out at any time"
            "Well, I'll bring it up in the next department meeting. Maybe we're barking up the wrong tree here" - and the party goes on!
            By the way, the Micro-Wand is no longer manufactured.

By Bill Martin

Bill Martin spent his entire career in the computer business, starting with IBM before the dawn of the computer and culminating as a grizzled computer veteran among bright young techies. He directed the launch of a barcode-based software product in the emerging and exciting new- tech world – the inspiration of the Work Ethics piece in this magazine.

For the past twelve years he has volunteered each Wednesday for Habitat for Humanity as a "Habaholic,” one of a group of similarly-driven retirees who sport their own tee-shirts and build houses in Lake County, Illinois. His e-mail address: Bill Martin