I hopped in the car, and a couple of pints later Peter spoke, and spoke fast. I had to ask him to slow down. (Sorry, a Private Dick moment there). As far as I can tell, Peter had been fired for being too smart and innovative, which are not qualities wanted in a small startup, apparently. At least not one run by a greaseball of a CEO who, while we were in dire financial straits, was quite happy for the company to put him up in a hotel because he didn’t want to move from Manchester. Rumours about secretaries, improper liaisons with, and tills, fingers in, are mentioned only to dismiss them. Although they would make interesting side-plots in the screenplay of my life.
I suggested to Peter that it couldn’t have been a personality clash because for that to happen the CEO would have had to have a personality to start with. Although we laughed, I learned more about corporate behaviour in that one evening at a pub in Heydon than I had in the year and a half previously.
Having been tipped off as to the slightly dishonest nature of certain people (and realizing that there was no way the company had the cojones to fire my manager so I could have his job), I began looking for something new. Back at the ranch, things started moving in even more disturbing directions. Despite my best efforts, the AutoQuitereasonablereally(TM) was not flying off the shelves (although those who had bought one were very happy and kept re-ordering consumables from us), and the company was strapped for cash. So in a stroke of genius the CEO laid off the poorest paid people–the two who who worked in production, putting together the columns to supply the AutoQuitereasonablereally(TM), the kits, and making up the reagents for Kate to run the DNA extraction service. Which not only pissed off the production manager, but also made the hierarchical pyramid even more top-heavy and holed one of our revenue streams beneath the waterline.
About the time the enormity of this error was realized I had already responded to an ad in Nature for a post-doc at the MRC-LMB. I was also able to assist Peter as a consultant in an edition of Time Team, in which we attempted to PCR DNA from a Stone Age human tooth (and if you look very carefully you can see the back of my head behind Baldrick Tony Robinson in one pan shot). By the time I was told I had to assist in Production, putting plastic columns together (because someone realized that we had to assemble the bloody things in order to make any money at all, and oh look, we have no staff to do this), I was really losing interest in the company itself.
And one day the CEO called me into his office.
Times were tough, he said. They really appreciated the work I’d put in, he said, to develop the kits and make the AutoCrap(TM) salesworthy. There was no money for a pay rise but please, he said, take myself and Kate out to a nice restaurant and the company would cover it.
To the tune of fifty quid.
I heard Please don’t leave us. I said, “Thank you.”
Then we found that the company was being sold to Whatman, apparently for our IP. We were told that our stock options were worthless, although we still had to hand them over so the sale could go through.
Kate and I went to the Jade Fountain, had a nice meal and a reasonable bottle of wine, and after I got the money back from accounts I handed in my notice.
During the next couple of months I wasn’t allowed to work on anything useful, so I spent the time documenting the AutoCrap(TM) software and re-writing the user manual. Documenting the software shouldn’t have taken that long, but I decided to make the most of it and wrote it as hyperlinked pages, which was the perfect opportunity to learn HTML 4 and CSS. My position was advertised–and they actually appointed two people to replace me, which was rather gratifying.
When I left I took a pay cut, but the MRC pumped a load of money into the system soon after, and the rather generous raises we got over the next six years more than made up for it. They were the best years of my career to date, so it all worked out rather well in the end. But it was quite the ride at the time.
And the company? A couple of months after I left, Whatman relocated it to another science park in Cambridge, right next to an expanding biotech company. When most of the staff were made redundant a year later they quite rapidly found new jobs. The only thing left now is the contract DNA extraction service, last seen operating out of a small shed in Ely.
Any idea what happened to the CEO and your manager?
The manager talked himself into a consulting job as far as I know, being equally worthless. Not sure what happened to the CEO, and I really don’t want to.
Someday you might make a fine period LabLit novel out of this experience… 😉
hm…. the harsh bright world of companies? interesting story and it can surely be a juicy lablit story 🙂 (it already is …)
I have always wondered about the stories my friends, who moved into the start up biotech companies in Sweden when we finished MScs in 1999-2000, could tell … some one them changed jobs between several start up companies, smaller ones that were bought and changed hands… etc… fascinating.
Happy to hear though that the post doc was good after that experience!
yes yes already. I didn’t put everything into this trilogy… I’ve already had offers to have it made into a film, so we’ll see what I can do.
But the most important thing is that you shared a scene with Baldrick.
I’ve just been Googling and I’d just like to say that ‘live’ doesn’t mean what you think it does.
Someday you might make a fine period LabLit novel out of this experience… 😉
Only if Richard gets to wear a cravat and ride a horse.
I could cope with that. Do I get to swim in a lake wearing one of those floppy white shirts, too?
I finally got around to reading this entire story. It has not changed my opinion on industry, other than it might be slightly more interesting in a “source of good stories” way. Wow. My only good job stories are from odd winter jobs I’ve had, and they both lasted only days (due to the nature of the jobs).
And to chime in with an earlier comment from Ã…sa: I also sometimes need to be reminded that a lot of people are older than me and have had more time to build their career. I have time to make mistakes, still. And I will. (Accidental rhyme, or subconsciously inpired by Henry?)
I have time to make mistakes, still. And I will.
Sounds like lyrics to a song, actually. Hang on, I’m sure there is one like that already.
I did it my way.
No, that is about past mistakes.
Hee hee.
My spies tell me that the contract DNA division was off-loaded by Whatman a few years back, and promptly folded due to bad management.
I’m not terribly surprised.
Richard> the DNA division was folded. pfff… that’s the best you could do? 😉
[probably the best I could do but hey, you’re the word crazy 😉 … ]
Eva> Isn’t it hard to remember sometimes? I know that the “comparing game” isn’t really a smart one but it sure is [more] stupid when you compare with someone more than 10 years your senior in that specific job/area… and yes, I think I’m in the “mistakes in the future” category too. Although, it could be kind of fun in hind sight since at least my mistakes so far have turned out to be “good” in the end.
yes, I have overdosed on positive happy thoughts for the new year. clearly. 🙂
Hind sight