(HOST) Commentator Willem Lange is a contractor, writer and storyteller who occasionally thinks deep thoughts. Today he observes that there are bureaucrats – and then there are Bureaucrats.
(LANGE) Thank you for calling Framus International Customer Services. All our representatives are currently busy with other customers. Your call is important to us. Please stay on the line, and a representative will be with you as soon as possible. Cue elevator music…
We’ve all had that experience. And it seems the more important our question is or the shorter our time, the longer it takes to get through. Once, after waiting forty minutes, I asked the woman who finally answered, "Are all the people you talk to as angry as I am?"
"Yes," she said, "Probably because we get about 200 calls an hour, and there are only two of us here to take them. How can I help you?"
That was an ah-ha! moment. I’d suspected that was the problem, but she was the first to affirm it. She also taught me a couple of things: The folks on her end are doing the best they can; and the best time to call is three in the morning.
Some of the most frustrating interchanges we ever have are with bureaucrats and civil servants. Their job description enjoys about the same status as "liberals" on talk radio. Many of us whose jobs are subject to performance review have contempt for those who’ve chosen security, great health benefits, and excellent retirement income in exchange for what appears to be pushing papers around on desks. But I’ve discovered they’re not all faceless brutes. They fall into two classes: those who try to make things happen, and those who try to prevent things from happening.
One of the most bureaucratized countries in the world is France. It has bureaus in charge of almost every conceivable human activity. And they always seem to have been waiting just for you to appear, speaking (as I do) very poor French. They survey your deficient paperwork, their heads wag back and forth. "Non, non, c’est impossible."
Years ago, in Chartres, about twenty hours before the departure of her flight to Boston, Mother discovered she’d left her passport far behind in a hotel. Desperate, she hailed a nearby gendarme, who pointed out that in France you can get anything mailed anywhere within the country in no more than eight hours. He made the call to the concierge himself, and explained to Mother that her passport would be at the Chartres post office the next morning. Relieved almost beyond words, she asked what she might do for him, for the Sureté… for France, even. Could she at least send the station some sweet rolls?
He drew himself to attention and in a perfect Clouseau imitation, said "Nothing, Madame. It is my duty, and it is my pleasure to serve!"
Some bureaucrats make things work; some stymie things whenever they can. If you ever deal with one of the latter, and you’re sure you have nothing more to lose, ask him which of those he fancies himself.
This is Willem Lange in East Montpelier, and I gotta get back to work.