The Iron Law of Bureaucracy

 

The Iron Law of Bureaucracy

In an office quite stuffy, with memos galore,
Where papers pile high from the ceiling to floor,
There lived a grand Bureau, with desks in a row,
Where progress was promised—but ever so slow!

Now Jerry Pournelle, a wise, watchful chap,
Observed how it worked and then drew us a map:
He said, “Every group—be it business or school—
Will follow one Iron, unbreakable rule.”

For those who do work, who deliver and strive,
Will soon be outnumbered by drones who survive.
The drones love the forms, and the stamps, and the files,
The policies, processes, meetings, and trials.

They gather in councils, committees, and boards,
To shuffle the papers and polish the cords.
They talk and they chatter, they nod and they clap—
But none of it helps to fix holes in the map!

And soon the true workers, the doers, the bold,
Are drowned in the rules and the memos of old.
The Bureau protects the Bureau, you see,
And not the great work of delivery!

So if you should wander through cubicles gray,
Remember the Law in its Seussian way:
The more that they manage, the less that gets done—
Till work serves the Bureau, and not anyone!