Tournament Theory
Don’t Call It a Ladder
The term “corporate ladder” can be deceptive. ”Ladder” inaccurately implies that advancement is linear and noncompetitive. The corporate ladder is more like a pyramid, but with several thousand people in business casual trying to fight and claw to the top at the same time. Which sounds more like a clusterfucking mess. Which it 100% is.
But let’s simplify things and just say a corporation is structured like a basic tournament bracket:
Ah, much better. (In another entry, I shall impress upon the reader the advantages of gross oversimplification of complex ideas.)
This diagram illustrates how advancement to each subsequent level entails another round of competition against a new — and increasingly more adept — competitor. Accordingly, at each new level, the reward set (salary, responsibility, prestige) increases exponentially. This structure is regarded as both motivational (massive rewards at top levels, visible/inspirational to all contestants) and cost-effective (because seriously, none of these delusional peons will ever get paid above minimum wage — but they can always dream!). (In another entry I shall impress upon the reader the advantages of encouraging subordinates to dream big.)
Sabotage — Everyone’s Doing It
So what does this all mean for you? Since you recognize the meaningfulness of advancement far more than the average contestant, you know what is at stake at each level: everything. However, your myopic competitors focus only on the reward set associated with the next level. But this is good news — because they will never be as motivated as you. But perhaps more importantly, they will never be as sabotage-prone.
Tournament theory asserts that, as the reward set grows more desirable/valuable, the probability of “sabotage” increases. This means that as you advance through the bracket, your competition will grow more deceitful, sinister and treacherous. They’ll be more likely to scapegoat you, to coax you into failure scenarios and attempt to get you drunk at holiday parties.
…But You Do It Better
But this is really a blessing in disguise. Because if your opponent is only at his peak of sabotaging in the highest bracket of the tournament, that means he (and every other player) have been holding back at the lower levels. Yes, because they are so myopic, your opponents won’t even bring out the big guns until the very end. And since your glimmering eye is always on the ultimate prize of ascending to the top of an organization, you’ll always be operating at maximum sabotage potential. This means your opponents, especially at the early levels, are easy prey. What’s even better is that they will assume you to be similarly motivated and thus expect you to be similarly sabotage-unprone. Fools! Only when you arch rival finds himself at the company party, thoroughly boozed off the drinks you poured him, dancing with a lampshade over his head (your suggestion), shirt untucked, the CEO witnessing the whole scene — only then will the clown realize his mistake. But it will be too late.
Then it’s onward to the next stage of the tournament, where you’ll come up against new competition to deceive and sabotage. Repeat until rich.
Practice, Practice, Practice
But wait! you say. But what about the final round, when my opponent is finally operating at maximum sabotage potential? What then? Will I not have an advantage? Not to worry! Your opponent will be no match for you because you will have had oodles more practice sabotaging fools. By the final round, you’ll be a master of sabotage. Yes, it will be Bruce Lee versus the Karate Kid. And with all that training, it’ll only take a one-inch punch to knock Daniel-san right out of the tournament and into the damp lap of humiliation.
Promptly pop a bottle of Dom.
