When sharing a story can get you in trouble

I’m all for giving someone honest and direct feedback. I think if someone genuinely wants to improve, they need to know where they can do better. I try to stick by that behavior in most aspects of my life… except when it comes to my bosses. Unless they invite direct blunt feedback, and I know that they won’t make my life a misery if I give it to them, I usually just try not to rock the boat.

You may say that makes me a coward, but I don’t believe there’s any need to invite a fight if you don’t have to.

With that said, sometimes it’s not always that easy.

So, as you may know from my previous stories, I was a police officer stationed in some remote parts of Australia. On one occasion, some of my colleagues and I were sent to an island community following a period of unrest and concern expressed by the medical and teaching staff on the island.

Most of the team was pretty good. Decent police officers, we all got along and there were no egos amongst the team. But they also sent one of the local inspectors. He wasn’t that personable, didn’t often apply common sense, and had a bit of a reputation for not looking after his team. None of us were looking forward to the prospect of being trapped on an island with him for a week.

Upon arrival, we went to the police station and talked to the local police about work there. Someone made a joke about being trapped on a deserted island. Being the amateur writer that I always have been it struck me with an idea. I began to write a daily journal about being shipwrecked on this island, I threw in a few witty anecdotes about the trip, and most of all I poked fun at the Inspector. I emailed back to my colleagues at my home station and shared the daily story with those trapped with me.

By about day 3 my journal had taken on a comedic Lord of the Flies tone, with the rest of the shipwrecked crew plotting how to overthrow their despised leader. Although I didn’t use the Inspector’s real name, it did not take one of the great detectives of our times to figure out to whom I was referring.

On day four, I was at the station and someone yelled out to me that the Superintendent was on the phone and wanted to speak with me. I naturally assumed he had finally noticed my superior leadership skills and was instantly promoting me.

When I got on the phone, I greeted him with “Hey Boss”

He acknowledged me and then said, “How’s it all going up there?”

So I gave a reasonable report on our activities over the past few days. Then he said “You know, you’re a pretty funny guy. I’ve just been reading some of your material.”

I knew exactly what material he was referring to, I didn’t need to ask him that. But what I did need to understand was how it had come to his attention, so I inquired, “Ummm, where did you see it?”

His response was, “It was on the printer in District Office, I think someone sent it to this printer by mistake.”

At that moment, all the oxygen in my body seemed to disappear and I thought I was going to pass out. I was bracing for my boss's boss's boss to unleash hell on me. Give me a dressing down for being insolent and not respecting rank. To my surprise, that didn’t come.

Instead, the Superintended said, “Look, we all know he’s a pain in the ass. But you don’t want him finding something like this, so can you not keep sending them on the Police email?”

Of course, I was going to take that out. “Certainly boss, no more funny stories from me”, I assured him. He had one last chuckle, said, “Good, enjoy the rest of the trip” and hung up.

It took about two minutes for one of my colleagues to ring and apologize. It seemed that my journal had developed a bit of a following, and more and more people wanted to read about our adventures. A lesson indeed about how a document can very easily become uncontrolled.

One of my few regrets about leaving policing was that I never saved those journals.

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