George the Office Manager
A story from Honest Work, Joanne B. Cuilla, Clancy Martin, and Robert C. Solomon

You have a job you like, and you work for a man named George. George is a bright ambitious, and energetic person, but his expectations often outreach his grasp, and he tends to take on more work than he can do. Working with him can be fun, but it's often frantic. Projects are frequently late, and you always seem to be on a tight if not impossible deadline.

The phones ring constantly in George's office. Typically, George tells his secretary to say that he is not in or that he will be out of town until the end of the week. Sometimes when people hear that George is not in, they call you. This puts you in the awkward position of not only having to back up the lie that the secretary was instructed to tell but sometimes having to make up new lies. Sometimes, you have to lie to confirm that George is where he says he is. Other times, you have to lie about what George is doing. There are times when he tells his manager that your group is working on or even almost finished with a project that the group hasn't even heard of, let alone started. In this way, George sometimes gets his team projects that they might not have gotten otherwise, but it also puts pressure on everyone in the group (including you) to lie about what the group is doing and how it is progressing.

Today George is away with his family on vacation. You get a call from his boss. He says "I need to talk to you about that Franklin project—George told me that your team has been making great progress on it." You have no idea what the Franklin project is, so you lie, say "just fine," and tell George's manager that you are tied up in meetings all day. You agree to stop by first thing tomorrow.

Your first instinct is to contact George. But he is on a camping trip with his family, and he makes it a point not to check for messages when he is away from the office on personal time. You are positive that no one in your office is working on a Franklin project because you coordinate all the projects for George.

All along you knew that the lies would catch up to George. Every small lie seems to require 10 more lies. Yet the thing about George is that he has a way of turning his lies into truths. He reminds you of the French writer Andre Malraux. Malraux believed that the way to lead an exciting life was to tell big lies and then live your life so as to make them true. But this is not the time for philosophizing. You have been lying not because you are fabricating a better life for yourself, but because George has put you into this awkward situation. This not the first time you have had to lie for him or because of him, of course, but this time is much more serious. The little "white lies" that his secretary routinely tells—and you've been party to—seem innocent enough. After all, whom do you know who hasn't said or had someone say that they're "in a meeting" when, in fact, they are taking a nap or spending some time in the restroom? And how often have you said or heard someone say "the check is in the mail" when it is not, although just saying that usually motivates getting that check in the mail ASAP. Sure, it's a lie, but it's an innocent lie, even a productive lie. So what harm is done?

But now, what will you tell George's boss?