Chapter 6: Depth

The damn phone rang again. One thing about managing a product engineering group for a hot product, you never find yourself at loss for things to do. Nancy typed furiously away, trying to finish the email response before picking up the phone to handle her next crisis of the day.

It rang again. Irritably glancing away from her CRT to the phone's display, she saw two things simultaneously. First, the name showing on the phone display was that of an operator at the quality control station on the production line. Second, she saw an employee with a question in her eyes and a grip on a sheaf of papers that was just a little too tight.

Quick decisions were a necessity for people in her position if they intended to hold on to even a shred of sanity. Deciding to let the QC operator leave a message on voice mail, she smiled and said "Have a seat, Jenny, I'll be with you in just a second."

Turning back to the monitor, she typed "There is no possibility of a chemical interaction, so simple shipping and performance tests should assure us of adequate performance in the field. Therefore, I don't think it will be necessary to run the full ASL tests on this change in order to qualify it for production. Nancy."

With some trepidation, she sent the note out to those on the distribution list. Only 56 messages left in her mail box to handle from today's correspondence. Heavy sigh. Every decision represented a potential disaster if she was wrong, with the possibility of millions of dollars in useless inventory or, worse, recalled devices. Yet to carefully test every conceivable disaster scenario, as her peers did, simply lead to hopelessly slow quality improvement and spiraling production problems. The only way to win at this game was to make good decisions several times a day and be prepared to jump all over problems that arose when something went awry. Not for the first time, the image of a video game came to her mind; flying problems, blasted out of space with smooth decisions, and the occasional mothership coming along to make her sweat. One slip, and it was "put another manager in the slot please" to keep playing. Success simply means getting to continue playing, with the faint hope of promotion in the far distant future (i.e., something beyond the 3 month event horizon).

The computer screen flashed, indicating that the message had been sent. Funny how much could go through your mind waiting for a computer to finish licking stamps and putting letters into appropriate slots.

Turning around to her conference table, she said in mock irritation, "Now, Jenny, what do you want?." It was an old tradition in the product engineering teams that the managers always acted as if they were frantically busy and couldn't be disturbed. It made it easier for the engineers, who were in on the act, to use the company's famous open door policy. After all, there was no point waiting for a quiet moment to interrupt when there never were any quiet moments to take advantage of.

"Here are this week's quality control charts, Nancy. You'll see that cheek stake is acting up again, as is foam stuff. But PQ problems are still way down," said Jenny.

"PTA effect still holding, hmmm? Well, good. Maybe that'll quiet the critics who keep insisting it won't work. The stuff and stake problems need to be looked into, but they probably aren't a major deal. I'll have Carl get over to the process team today." Noticing something, she changed her demeanor from her best imitation gruff chief engineer to big sister. Nancy was good at that. "But, why the long face?"

Jenny was relieved that her boss, and friend, had noticed. It made it easier to open the discussion. "Uh, well, I've got a personal problem and I'd like to discuss it with you if you've got a little time at some point?"

Now if there was one reason Nancy was such a popular boss and inspired such loyalty from her team members it was the priority she put on listening when someone wanted to talk. And it was obvious that this was one of those times. "Well, OK, I think now would be a good time. I'd like an excuse to get out Lee's packaging meeting anyway. Let's take a hike around the lake."

The two of them chitchatted on their way through the building, discussing minor issues with the production yield, the latest upper management idiocy (a mandatory "Group Guidance" class, usually referred to among the peonatti as the Group Grope and almost universally despised), and the weather. Arriving at the lake, they found a semi-secluded bench off the main jogging trail and sat down.

"Now, what's up?" Nancy asked, smoothing down her skirt.

Suddenly at a loss, and feeling more than a little stupid, Jenny didn't immediately respond. She felt that familiar panic that always appeared when she was irrevocably committed. Why had she done this? She didn't know Nancy all that well, and here she was going to discuss her most intimate personal concerns. Well, she trusted Nancy's propriety and her judgment. The simple fact that she wasn't a close friend would keep the information quarantined from her usual crowd. Besides, it was too late now. She plunged in.

"I'm not really sure where to start, but I'm looking for advice about how to handle a situation with Steve and Michelle."

Nancy's nose wrinkled just a bit. She knew of Jenny's interest in Steve (and had been silently rooting for success), and though she wasn't familiar with Michelle's ideas on open marriage she knew the woman was more flirtatious than Nancy considered proper. Nancy was something of a social conservative.

Jenny continued. "I think you are aware that I've gone out a couple times with Steve. Well, only once actually, but we've been hanging around together for awhile. Somehow I'm terribly attracted to him, and I think the feeling is mutual. But Michelle is screwing it all up, and I just don't know how to handle the situation."

"You see, Michelle expects me to be sleeping with Steve. She confided in me that she thought he'd be great in bed. She considers any form of monogamy as possessiveness. When I objected that she was married, she looked at me like I was some sort of time traveler from the Salem witch trials. 'I have an open marriage, and my husband and I are free to engage in extra flings' she said. Then she walked off, and the next time I saw her she was flirting outrageously with Steve in a place where she knew I'd see it. Nancy, I didn't know what to do, what to say, so I just retreated in the end. I'm afraid to ask Steve what happened later on that evening, but from the way she was dressed and from the flush on his face, I don't think I want to know." Jenny suddenly felt herself tearing up, and stopped talking. This gushing, weepy soap wasn't how she had intended to discuss this, but it had all come out, and now she was too emotional to continue. She looked down at the hands folded in her lap through blurry eyes.

Nancy was looking at those same hands. She was shocked, and didn't have anything to say. "I'm supposed to comment intelligently on this?" she asked herself. How could such a beautiful, intelligent woman have such a stupid problem to deal with? Nancy had always wished to be attractive (she'd have been satisfied to be half as attractive as Jenny), had figured it would solve a lot of her own problems. Now she wasn't so sure. She couldn't believe Michelle was so, so, post-modern, such a boomer wannabe. She didn't find it hard to believe Steve could be so fickle, though it made her no less angry. He had no core beliefs, no moral grounding. But why was Jenny the recipient of such sorrow? It was always hard to understand when bad things happened to good people.

She would have to say something. Composing her downcast face, she silently said a prayer for strength, wisdom, and comfort for Jenny. She barely avoided asking for lightning to strike Michelle.

Raising her head, she saw Jenny still downcast. "Ah, Jenny, look, this is certainly bad, really bad. I'm shocked and disappointed to hear about Michelle's attitude, and angry about Steve's treatment of you. Can't you just cut your losses, move on? This doesn't sound like a healthy or salvable relationship to me."

Jenny, still looking at her blurry hands, answered quietly. "If it was that easy, I wouldn't have asked for your time Nancy. I find that I'm in love with him, and I just can't leave him for Michelle to use up. Besides, I have no where else to go. What other man will stand up to temptation of the sort Michelle offers?" Gathering strength, and calming down, she lifted her head. Hers eyes began to clear. "It's wrong, Nancy, it's all wrong. How did the world get to the point where people like Michelle are in my face? Where my white knight not only has no scruples, he's never even heard of them." She smiled weakly.

Nancy smiled a little more bravely. "Heck, the world doesn't even admit the possibility of white knights existing, Jenny. It is a long story, and it all started in the sixties when boomers first began to roam the earth unfettered." And the smile vanished. "But there isn't much we can do about that, is there? The world is ruined, and we get to deal with it. So what to do? Again, the obvious thing is to just walk away. Are you sure you can't? You will meet more young men, you know."

"But what are the chances they'll be any different than Steve? What are the chances there won't be other women, or even men, at some time in their lives? No, I'm tired of avoiding the fight and I don't think I'll ever feel this way about a man again." She shook her head. "I'm not sixteen, and I've known enough men to know. It's bad, but I want to salvage it."

"OK, lets take that as a given then," Nancy agreed. "What to do? What to do. Shooting, maiming, and screaming should be a last resort, I suppose. You have no moral claim on him?"

"Only what I see behind those Peter Pan eyes. He's never promised anything," Jenny said. "More than that, he doesn't have much of a moral basis from which to make a commitment to me. I'm not really sure I'd trust him if he did claim some fidelity. Especially not with Michelle prowling around. I wonder how much it costs to get someone kneecapped..."

"Jenny, that line of thinking won't lead anywhere. Hasn't she ever heard of AIDS or VD? But I think I'm getting an idea, maybe the only hope for a success in this situation. Before I go into it, I need to warn you; this is NOT sanctioned company advice. Our management classes dealing with this kind of thing are garbage, in my humble opinion, and I'm going to tell you what I really think rather than spout corpro-babble, OK?"

"Yes. I won't tell a soul," said Jenny, and she meant it. She suddenly realized that this is why she'd come to Nancy, who was always pushing the limits of political correctness and could be counted on to have an independent opinion.

Screwing herself up, Nancy dove in. "Jenny, do you have a moral base for your life? You said earlier that this whole thing was just wrong, and that it was important not to let go of it, not to submit to the evil of it. Why do you believe that?"

The question took her off guard. What did this have to do with the problem? "Well, I don't know, I just do, that's all. I mean, I attend church pretty regularly at the LDS ward here in Corvallis, and I was raised in that faith, but if you're asking for a discourse on ethics, I can't do it. I just know, is all." Jenny suddenly felt this was a pretty bogus statement, and wasn't very pleased with herself.

"OK, now how about Steve? You said at one point that his moral compass was in need of calibration. Do you know if he has any moral foundations?"

"Actually, I'm pretty sure he doesn't. I mean, he's been raised in a middle class family and everything, and he seems to be a basically decent fellow (other than his weakness for the female anatomy), and he works hard. But I think he actively avoids thinking about philosophy."

Nancy nodded. "As I'd have guessed. It seems to me the weak foundations of your relationship are the root of the problem. Look, Jenny, I'm a Christian, a conservative Presbyterian to be specific. To be even more up front, I don't think that the Mormons are Christian, for various reasons, most of which revolve around the question of who Jesus Christ is. What I'm going to recommend will reflect what I believe."

Jenny raised her eyebrows in a surprised arch. "You are? I didn't realize it. But I think you are right about the root problem and I'd like to hear your ideas about what to do. I can't guarantee I'll follow through with it, though." A fundamentalist? Here, in a company of brilliant engineers, where scientific rationalism was the only accepted mode of thought? She had mixed feelings about this revelation.

"Fair enough." Nancy went on, "You need to begin working with Steve to build up a consistent ethic, to begin assessing what he believes in. I suppose the natural way for you to do that would be to introduce him to Mormon thought. Have you considered that, and do you think he'd be willing?"

Looking away, across the lake, Jenny replied, "Actually, he seems mildly interested, but I get the impression that Mormonism would be tougher for him to really get interested in than 'conventional' Christianity. While I'm not ready to admit that my church isn't Christian, since we do follow Him, I won't argue the point right now. I realize there is a consensus among other Protestants that we aren't really Christian. It probably would be easier to get him into some 'normal' church, like the Baptist or Methodist church. Maybe St. Mary's?" Then, turning to Nancy, "Which church do you attend, what is it like? I don't know what makes Presbyterians different from Mormons or Catholics."

Nancy, somewhat sheepishly, said "I suppose the major distinguishing feature of the Presbyterian denomination today is its radical, liberal theology. The search for and devotion to Truth has been replaced by a devotion to Tolerance. Members tend to be professionals, people who are comfortable and don't really want to rock the boat. First Pres, downtown, is a good denominational example. My husband and I attend Calvin Presbyterian for two reasons. It's a lot smaller, and manages to have an extended family feel to it. More importantly, the congregation and the pastor have a commitment to God's Truth, part of which is God's Love for us. There are other Presbyterian churches in America like Calvin, but most are like First Pres. Does that help?"

"I would think, if I'm trying to convince Steve to go to church, that First Pres would be the right place to go" said Jenny. "He won't be scared off, and being tolerant, they won't push anything on him." Then she smiled mischievously. "But the goal isn't to get him to church, it's to teach him a fundamentally new way of thinking, to convince him there is a God and that He has some pretty clear ideas about right and wrong, and one of those ideas revolves around adultery. Frankly, my ward is a pretty accepting group too, and probably wouldn't really have the character to teach him what he needs to know. I like the idea that your church feels like an extended family, because within the circle of a family there is discipline as well as love. If I want him to begin thinking about right and wrong, it sounds like I need to take him to your church. But I'd like to kind of go see it myself before I talk to him about it. Could I come with you next Sunday?"

Nancy momentarily felt disoriented. Did she want to bring a Mormon to church? This is what she'd been leading up to, but having arrived there, it suddenly felt funny. Wasn't it proselytizing? Wouldn't it make the bible study group uncomfortable, or Jenny uncomfortable, when they talked about the lesson? But this had been her idea all along, and Jenny hadn't been slow on the uptake. It also seemed like a sensible plan of attack to what was a very difficult problem. Couldn't hurt.

She nodded. "Sounds like a good plan, other than the fact that you've never set foot in this church. Do you want to meet us there or shall we pick you up?"

"Why don't you pick me up? Maybe we can have lunch afterwards and talk about the service," Jenny replied.

"Done," Nancy said, rising. "Now, I'd love to discuss this problem with you further, but I guess we'd better get going. I have a lot of work to get through today, and I really should make an appearance at the ops meeting." They began walking back around the lake. "Jenny, I'll be praying for you, that things will work out. The more I think about this, the more convinced I am that we are taking the only possible path to succeed. Steve's heart needs to change, and God has a lot of practice doing that. Michelle is a snake, but there will always be snakes in the grass, as long as you live. The only solution is to make the snakes unattractive, and that requires change."

Jenny reflected on that in silence, feeling a little relieved by having a course of action.

A new thought crossed Nancy's mind. "Jenny?" she said, a little tentatively.

"Yes?"

"You realize that what I've just told you would be heartily disapproved of by corporate policy makers? I mean, it would be OK for me to recommend that you see a psychiatrist, for which the company would even pay the bills, so that he could help you work out your co-dependency and maybe liberate your repressed lesbian tendencies. But to tell you that the answer to your problems lies in a church, in bringing someone else to see the Truth, would be completely unacceptable to the corporate human resources people. I could get fired, or at least demoted for doing so. You won't let this conversation get around, will you?"

Jenny laughed. "There is no way I would do that, Nancy. I'm not particularly excited about discussing this with anyone myself. And trust me, I have no desire to hurt your career. I mean, who knows what kind of twit we'd get to replace you?"

They entered building 4.