At the Swansong Group, nobody talked about the elephant in the room.
“We assumed the bosses didn’t want to hear about it so we kept our mouths shut,” says a manager at the Spokane financial commitment consortium, who asks not to be named out of concern people will find out who she is.
One day it was just there, she says – a 2800-pound pachyderm, standing idly in the corner of the fourth floor conference room, munching on oats. No one knew where it had come from or who had let it in. Not wanting to face the potential ramifications of bringing up to the bosses, the staff – including some from management – took turns feeding, watering, and cleaning up.
The situation came to light after six months when an accountant asked why $3000 per month was being spent on hay, watermelon, and the disposal of dung (4300 pounds per week). The company immediately launched a 12-tier inquiry – its highest level – into why nobody had gotten rid of the elephant sooner.
A total of 15 high-ranking managers were disciplined, including two who had their gold nameplates changed to purple, and the company instituted the following procedures to be followed any time there is an elephant in the room:
- Verify that it is actually an elephant.
- Determine whether it is there for a specific purpose.
- If there is no need for the elephant, call a removal company.
Ironically, Swanson-Howe was just beginning to move past the incident when it suddenly faced another major challenge – an 800-pound gorilla in a seventh floor restroom.
