Simulation Task generating motivation
41. Employees’ motivation is an important factor of successful business. Research the issue, answering the following questions.
What are the best ways to increase employees’ motivation?
Which of the motivational stimuli would you consider most important. Why?
How would you motivate workers in the following positions? Explain your decision.
Reading 3
Text A
“The more money you spend, the longer you have to be out there earning it and the less time you get to be with the ones you love.” This motto best tests the mood of the urban exodus.
Downshifting can be defined as “making conscious choices to leave materialism behind and move on to more sustainable living, moving from a lifestyle based on consumerism and a relatively high income towards one of reduced income and expenditure in order to spend more time on other pursuits.”
However, downshifting does not mean simply cutting back and trying to keep up the same
living standards only with less money. Downshifting requires prioritizing, an adjustment in values, and a totally different mindset… not just a change to a more frugal way of living. Downshifting is not about self-denial. You are not supposed to advisedly ignore anything of consequence to you or your family.
The decisions of downshifters are taken under the influence of powerful social and cultural currents, shaped to an unprecedented degree by the symbols provided by the market. Many are desperate to get away from “living competitively”, job stress, consumerism, and feeling they have to live up to someone else’s expectations. Other people downshift because of a life changing experience, health reasons, or a crisis in the family. Redundancy used to be a terrible stigma but now it is seen as opportunity for a life swap. Whatever the reason, downshifting isn’t limited to any age or income level.
“How wonderful it would be to say goodbye to commuting, crazy hours and irascible bosses. To never eat another reheat”, says Harry Dashwood, a senior manager of Deutsche Bank in London, who chose to be a plumber in Uxbridge. “I have swapped a daily commute on the District & Circle Line for a morning walk with my dog in the Yorkshire countryside. I have exchanged the ill-tempered atmosphere of the corporate finance department for the sweet air of a book-lined study overlooking my garden. The fat monthly salary payments which I never had time to spend are replaced by a trickle of modest cheques from newspapers and magazines. I am free and in control of what I am doing in a way that I never was during my 15-year office career. I no longer have to worry about being spotted leaving the office before 8pm, or about being overtaken for promotion by arrogant young thrusters, or burning out like the sad forty-somethings who were my seniors.” Harry claims downshifting does not mean being idle. Plenty of space in downshifters’ timetable is paramount to creating lives that, for them, are more autonomous and fulfilling. They seek to build an eclectic, even eccentric, portfolio of interests, with the potential to provide stimulus and self-esteem.
For the first few years McCourt and his wife Tessa, high-flyers in a Swiss bank, enjoyed the buzz they got from their job, but the couple’s first child Charlotte changed the family dynamic inevitably. McCourt worked crazy hours with the burn out to follow. Though materially wealthy, he hardly ever saw his three children. “It’s all about aspiration and the lengths you’ll go to keep pace with your rivals, life expenses, the rise in the cost of living, etc” he says. “But while I sought to achieve a balance between life and work, it was my family who bore the brunt of my absence and moodiness, tolerating all that frenetic activity in order to keep me on the upward path. I was beginning to realize that I was getting into deep waters, so my heart had to be hardened to some decision. And in the end the balance shifted in favour of a dramatic change.” McCourt left the City for good, setting himself up in business at Northfield Farm, Rutland, with half a dozen cattle. Within weeks they swapped city suits for fleeces, wellies and overalls. The Saab turbo was replaced by an old van. The children, privately educated, swapped to the local state school.
McCourt has turned a dilapidated old farm into a thriving business producing top-quality rare breed beef, pork and lamb. His farm shop is renowned for good food, he has a second outlet in Borough market, London, and is now masterminding the setting up of a farmers’ market as part of the redevelopment of Basingstoke. All in all, he is almost as busy as he was in the City. “But it’s a different kind of pressure,” he says. “In a small way you’re making a difference, something you never feel in a corporate structure. And it’s been wonderful for the children. All three have delivered lambs, piglets and calves. It’s not idyllic but it’s still a pretty stunning way to bring up a child. Besides such issues as safer streets, smaller and better schools, less crime and traffic can’t fail to dominate our thoughts.”
They arrived in Britain to take over the village post office in Bourton-on-the-Water, Gloucestershire. Weimer had fallen in love with the spot on numerous trips to Britain. “Our dream was to settle in Britain and we wanted something that would bring us right into the community. The post office hit the spot. I’ve been here two months and I already know and appreciate everybody in town.” Downshifters tend to forge stronger friendships with supportive others.
With the zeal of a convert David and Cristina are likely to volunteer for almost anything that looks like an interesting way of filling up another slice of the week. A rural community is ideal material for all sorts of local committees and projects. “Last week I capped my community career by being promoted to the trustee of two charity funds,” says David, “My diary is chock-a-block with committee meetings from now till Christmas. I have not had a dull day since we arrived here, which is no small claim. I still have time to work from home through fax and e-mail, and I can make a tangible difference to some of the community projects, whereas for months on end in my previous life we made no difference at all to anything except the balance on our own bank statement.”
“The first morning I woke up in my new house,” says Tessa McCourt, “with sunlight flooding through the window at the end of the bed and sheep bleating on the hillside, I cannot describe the feeling of wellbeing that flooded through me. I felt as though I was on holiday for the first few weeks, as I wandered around my fields and sat in a happy heap with butterflies and flowers around me. Nearly 10 years later I feel the same way.”
“
Text B
Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take – but the moments that take our breath away…”, whoever said that was absolutely right.
Text B
The lure of the country idyll may be strong. In the rat race, lots of us have the occasional downshifting fantasy with imaginary fruits surely better than the pressure of the daily grind. After a holiday break, we crave a good and simpler life, which has a special allure, as it represents choice, freedom and sheer bliss.
Embarking on this sort of life change is momentous, yet people do it without really thinking it through. Dreams of rural idyll can be unrealistic, and country life can be really tough. Nothing is round the corner, public transport may be scarce. If you are culturally-minded, there is little on your new doorstep: museums, cinemas, theaters, concerts.
For every happy story of people successfully downshifting, there is a sorrier tale of those who get it wrong. For some downshifters, such a dramatic life swap is anything but a stress-free nirvana.
Tom Green is a downshifter who was in for a rude awaking. He was made redundant from his job in marketing, which bought him some breathing space to make his dream come true. “I guess everyone who enjoys photography as a hobby must have fantasised about doing it for a living. So, armed with my redundancy cheque, I marched into a camera shop and came out with an expensive camera, two lenses, studio lighting, reflectors, flashes and memory cards.” He decided to specialise in wedding photography and children’s portraits. “I’d heard that photographers can charge upwards of £2,000 per wedding. Two grand for a day’s work – I wouldn’t even need to suffer for my art.” However, to have hoped for such a thing was astonishingly wide of the mark. There was loads of work and expense before a wedding - marketing and advertising, sussing out wedding venues, meetings with couples, expensive sample albums. Then there was the editing, uploading of proofs to web galleries and creating albums. His hourly income was roughly the minimum wage. “And it was such hard work. I would get through three shirts per wedding – each soaked through with sweat in minutes lugging heavy camera gear around after drunken guests.”
This tale comes as no surprise to Sheila Hampson, herself a downshifter, the author of the book about downshifting. “Do not be under any illusions,” she says. “Being on the staff is nothing like being your own boss. You will slave away and work your fingers to the bone to keep afloat.”
Many downshifters struggled to adjust to an abrupt loss of status, which can be a huge knock to their confidence.” As John Hawkes, who ran a software business before becoming a full-time dad, puts it: “It was a massive leap of faith. A colossal amount of identity is wrapped up in what you do. This question has become an important personal identity tag. On first acquaintance people respond to you totally differently according to the answer. You don’t feel as valuable as you used to. And not just in financial terms but social ones, too.”
For others, the day-to-day reality of running your own business is a minefield. Charles Meynell, who was a foreign affairs journalist, would beaver away in war zones. He’s now a tree surgeon and forester. “I’d set my heart on starting the business because I’m passionate about trees,” he says. “What I hadn’t taken into account is that I have almost zero appetite for running a business, let alone the conventional mantras - growth and bottom line. To handle such things as personnel problems and admin one should be sure they belong in here, for me it was tiresome, and dealing with banks and trying to get funding was a real hassle.”
Simon Bennett, once the chief operating officer at Goldman Sachs, earning more than £300,000 a year, did want to be a farmer, but now he reckons the decision cost him his fortune and his marriage. For those with children or a large mortgage, downshifting comes as quite a shock. Children, dragged unwillingly from schools where they are happy, are unlikely to settle well in the country. He and his wife Tessa dreamt of running a business together but this had its own pitfalls. Bennet warns: “You need a strong relationship to withstand the stresses and strains of handling everyday routine.”
Lots of people who work from home will empathise with the grumbles of Sarah Campbell, a freelance art director. Her sense of isolation was exacerbated by having moved to the country. “Sometimes I will go to the park and stroke a dog, just as a ruse to talk to the owner. The downside is that you are on your own. I miss the support staff I get working in an office – the IT guy to fix the computer or to help when the printer is playing up. A sick benefit and a paid vacation are the nostalgic relics of a bygone era. I’ve got used to buying my clothes from the Oxfam* shop and looking for bargains in the supermarket. When I set out plans for a holiday, I have to balance a trip somewhere against the necessity to do some repairs to the roof.”
Carol Deacon left a high-flying career in advertising only to start a cake-making business. Carol discovered that not everyone she came across in the world of cakes was sugary sweet. “Everybody knows your business. The ‘natives’ can be hostile. Some of my customers were just as much trouble as corporate clients had been in my advertising days. One guy got quite annoyed when I refused to put an illegal substance in a cake. He thought it would be ‘great fun to see granny off her face’. Then there were the stressed-out Bridezillas** who would constantly be on the phone with ideas and amendments. They’d arrive to view the cake with a whole load of people who all had different opinions. Then there are the health and safety inspections and all the admin. I am working very long hours for a pitiful hourly rate. You just have to accept that stress is part of day-to-day life. The grass is not always greener. It’s just a different shade of green,” she says.
NOTES:
*Oxfam shops sell fair-trade and donated items. Much of their stock comes from public donations but they currently also sell fair trade products from developing countries in Africa, Asia and South America, including handcrafts, books, music CDs and instruments, clothing, toys, food and ethnic creations. These objects are brought to the public through fair trade to help boost the quality of life of their producers and surrounding communities.
**Bridezillas is a reality television show produced by DCD Media-owned September Films and airing on the WE cable-television network. It follows the lives of engaged women, casting their busy schedules in an emphatic and sometimes humorous fashion. It was rated TV-14 from WE television networks for some bad, rude language, a little bit of violence or some suggestive dialogue. Brid + (God)zilla