Bureaucracies

There's a certain inevitable progression in bureaucracies. An evolution, to use the dreaded "E" word, in how they are created, age and die. The pace may vary, but the sequence is pretty much set in stone.

In logic terms, the organization of a bureaucracy forms a virtual neural net. At first, it is simple and direct, but if it survives the organization of a bureaucracy slowly grows more complicated. In the early stages this is a good thing; the complexity forms multiple redundant pathways, providing reserve capacity in case of trouble. If Joe is out sick, Carol can handle the same work. If there's a flood of extra work, Carol and Jill can help take up the slack.

However, as neural nets mature they become ossified, with preferred pathways forming. Any slight advantage of one particular pathway will result in it being used more and more often, while other pathways between the same origin and destination atrophy or are diverted to other tasks. Now, if Joe is out sick or there's extra work, Carol doesn't even know the proper procedures or any of the people working under Joe, and Jill retired three years ago and wasn't replaced. And when Joe retires - no matter how much warning there is of the event and no matter now much preparation has been made to replace him - the result is disruption of operation. (Figurehead managers being an exception, here. As long as there are assistants who actually do the work for titular heads such as political appointees, the bureaucracy will continue with business as usual. No matter how many promises of reform were made by the new administration.)

Worse, since there is now inherently less flexibility, any change in conditions will cause similar problems, because there are no resources in the neural net for handling anything different from what it has been doing for so long. Because the evolutionary process has eliminated the redundant and less-efficient (with "efficient" being defined by how well something matches the majority of the neural net) pathways and unused capacity. Unexpected changes are especially bad, but even expected changes can leave the bureaucracy floundering. Particularly hidebound bureaucracies may not even realize that the new situation requires a change in procedures, and claim everything is fine (which it is, in the operation of the bureaucracy, that being how it now measures success) when the result of the organization's work is actually poor, zero or even negative. (Think about FEMA's reaction to Katrina. The head of the organization was reporting that everything was under control, with no problems, when the agency was actually hindering rescue and relief efforts. And the director most likely didn't know this until he saw the problems on TV news, because he believed the bureaucracy's reports that it was operating normally.)

Adding to the problem, more and more of the resources of the organization become dedicated to supporting its operation, instead of helping actually do the work it was created for.

Reforms rarely help an old bureaucracy to change; due to the nature of mature neural nets, bureaucracies react to change - any change, even obvious improvements - as damage and attempt to repair it. Replacing a bad manager or reorganizing a section may result in temporary improvement, but eventually the rest of the organization will force the modifications to change back into something similar to what it is used to. What is needed is an organization-wide housecleaning.

(no subject)

Excerpt from a story about a school for superhuman children. Just after mid-term they're having a talent show, with both students and teachers participating. This is the wining staff act.



Template and Eagle were wearing alternate versions of their regular outfits, trimmed down and otherwise modified for intensely athletic dancing. These were snug enough to reveal that both were in excellent physical shape. They went to the middle of the stage, turned to face each other and backed apart several strides. The music began, "Footloose," and they danced.

The routine had to be seen to be believed. Template and Eagle were all over the stage, bounding, spinning, strutting, occasionally dashing past each other, approaching but never actually touching. The maneuvers came from many sources, including the good, old-fashioned Jitterbug.

They had deliberately kept the sexual component low, since this was for a school event, but it was impossible to eliminate completely. The sheer sensuality of their graceful movements did more than daring costumes or overt posturing would have. So did their superhuman energy.

As the dance progressed it grew more acrobatic. At one point, they ran towards each other, with Template at the last moment bounding into a forward tuck and aerial somersault while Eagle dropped to his knees and slid below her.

And then, about halfway through, the singer shouted "You can fly!" and they soared into the air. They sailed past each other, turning to keep facing as they parted, reaching but not quite touching as the distance between them increased.

Gravity became irrelevant. They ignored common orientation, soaring through three dimensional space as they spun and tumbled and bounced from invisible walls. Now they did touch, often grabbing the hands or feet of their partner to send both hurtling in new directions, each dancer using their partner as a substitute for the now out-of-reach floor, to help with their changes in direction.

At the beginning of the crescendo they were facing each other, reaching out but hands not quite touching, upright barely above the floor. They rose slowly with the music, arms lifting; then as the music climaxed they performed a starburst maneuver, arcing over backwards and looping downwards. People watching were actually jumping up and down as they cheered and whistled.

Finally, the music ended. By what appeared to be sheer coincidence they were once again upright, just above the middle of the dance floor, facing each other and holding hands. They hovered rock solidly for a moment as the last notes faded; then sank down to the polished wood, turned and bowed.

The audience went wild. Several minutes went by before the pair could leave the stage and let the next contestants on.