Should a worker report 'Zoomed-out' colleagues?

I’ve lost count of the number of hours I’ve spent talking or listening to others over Zoom since last spring. I suspect the tally is substantial. I’ve learned how effective a mechanism the chat function can be for side conversations or how useful it is to be able to record an event so those who couldn’t attend in real time can choose to view it later.

I’ve also learned that being on Zoom for the better part of a day with few breaks between meetings can be exhausting. Many of us may have saved time not having to commute to work over the past 13 or 14 months, but any extra minutes or hours seem to have been eaten up with requests for far more meetings because we can easily “hop on a Zoom call.”

It’s no surprise then that many readers have begun to find their time on Zoom or other online meeting sites a bit frustrating. A reader we’re calling Adeline emailed that while she has been working remotely, her company has regular staff meetings, but also quite a few required trainings on everything from the company’s sexual harassment policy to tutorials on how to participate in the company’s various Slack chat rooms.

“We never used to have as many meetings,” wrote Adeline. “Part of me thinks they’re holding so many to make sure we are actually at our computers when the company wants us to be.”

Adeline also wrote that while the company requires employees to log on to Zoom meetings, it allows them to turn off their video once they’ve logged on.

“Unless we’re put into smaller breakout rooms, there’s no way for whoever’s running the meeting to know whether anyone actually stays in the meeting,” she writes. “Some of my colleagues have told me they regularly go off and do something else once they’ve logged on. Sometimes they’ve logged on using their cellphones and, once they turn off their video, they run errands or handle other tasks that don’t really have to do with company business.” Adeline indicated that she knows this because some colleagues have told her as much.

“This is wrong isn’t it?” asked Adeline, who also wants to know if she has any obligation to report the colleagues she believes may be faking Zoom attendance.

While there are conceivable occasions when turning your attention from an online engagement to an urgent matter is appropriate, lying about being in attendance at a meeting or training when you aren’t actually there is wrong. If there’s truly a reason you can’t do a part of your job, the right thing is to acknowledge when a more pressing concern makes it impossible to engage, just as you would if you were in-person. Just remote work makes it easier to pretend to be in attendance when you’re not does not make it right.

I’m not convinced, however, that Adeline should report any colleagues she suspects of such behavior. Even if they claim that they are often off doing something else, she has no way of knowing for certain. The right thing for Adeline to do is to continue to show up and be as engaged as she can. It might also be good for the company to set the policy that turning off the video should be the exception rather than the rule. 

Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of The Simple Art of Business Etiquette: How to Rise to the Top by Playing Nice, is a senior lecturer in public policy and director of the communications program at Harvard's Kennedy School. He is also the administrator of www.jeffreyseglin.com, a blog focused on ethical issues.

Do you have ethical questions that you need to have answered? Send them to jeffreyseglin@gmail.com. 

Follow him on Twitter @jseglin. 

(c) 2021 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by TRIBUNE CONTENT AGENCY, LLC.

Can I take food home from the pantry where I volunteer?

More Americans relied on food banks during the pandemic than ever, according to Feeding America, a nationwide network of more than 200 food banks and 60,000 food pantries and meal programs. From March through October of 2020, through its various affiliates, Feeding America distributed an estimated 4.2 billion meals, representing about 60% more than the same time period the previous year. About 40% of those were first-time users.

Whether it’s through national efforts like Feeding America or local efforts like a community fridge, efforts continue to feed those in need. The success of many of these efforts depends on financial and food donations as well as volunteer support.

One volunteer at a small church food pantry that distributes fresh food and canned goods once a week has seen a steady supply of donations that so far has matched the demand from the steady supply of individuals and families visiting to acquire food. The volunteer, whom we’re calling Graham, spends two hours every Thursday helping to organize donations and another two hours on Friday distributing food to those who queue up.

Often, there is an abundance of a particular type of food at Graham’s pantry which he or his family has used at home. “Is it wrong,” Graham asks, “for me or other volunteers to take a loaf of bread, some fruit, or some canned goods at the end of our shift for our own use?”

Graham is retired and single. He receives a pension from a city job he held for a few decades. He is old enough to also collect Social Security benefits and receive healthcare through Medicare. He rents a one-bedroom apartment that is within walking distance of the food pantry where he volunteers. While his income is modest, so are his expenses and he’s never found himself short of money to pay his bills or to feed and clothe himself. He is not among the target clientele of the food pantry, although the organizers of the pantry make a point of not turning anyone away and not asking for any sort of proof of need.

But Graham’s is a question that gets asked often: Is it OK for volunteers at a food pantry to take home food for their own use?

On the surface, it might seem that “no, that’s inappropriate,” would always be the right response. But if there is food remaining that is perishable or might not be usable by the time the pantry opens its doors the following week, it seems wise for volunteers to use it rather than to see it go to waste.

Taking canned goods or other items that might remain usable by the food pantry clientele for a longer term seems inappropriate. The goal of volunteering shouldn’t be to get a little something for yourself, but instead to make sure to get stuff to those truly in need.

Food pantry organizers should make clear to volunteers what the pantry’s policy is on removing donated items for personal use. Sometimes volunteers might also be among the clientele, but when they are not, then making clear that taking stuff home is forbidden so they can spread the resources as widely as possible to others who need them is the right thing to do. 

Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of The Simple Art of Business Etiquette: How to Rise to the Top by Playing Nice, is a senior lecturer in public policy and director of the communications program at Harvard's Kennedy School. He is also the administrator of www.jeffreyseglin.com, a blog focused on ethical issues.

Do you have ethical questions that you need to have answered? Send them to jeffreyseglin@gmail.com. 

Follow him on Twitter @jseglin. 

(c) 2021 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by TRIBUNE CONTENT AGENCY, LLC.

Thank your mentors while they are still around

Occasionally over the past 40 years, I tried to hunt down George Dendrinos, the man who taught my sixth grade class at School Street School in Boonton, New Jersey. After being promoted from his class in 1968, I stopped in to visit him once or twice when I was in high school, but my family had moved from Boonton in 1974, and while my fondness for the town remains, my connections dissipated.

I searched online for Mr. Dendrinos (I would never think of calling him “George”) occasionally once the internet arrived and web browsers became a thing. For some reason I thought he had lived in Garfield, New Jersey, so I tried searching there. By the time I reached out to my old middle school, he had retired and I was not able to locate him.

My goal was to email or call Mr. Dendrinos to let him know the outsized influence he had on me as a pupil in his class. I wanted to thank him for the patience, wisdom and energy he brought to his teaching. Sixth grade was a very long time ago, but his influence on my life and the lives of many of my classmates was profound and fondly remembered.

We too often take for granted that the people who have made a positive impact on our lives know how influential they have been. For many of us, these include teachers who were gifted enough in the classroom to convert restless 11-year-olds into patient learners.

I remember every teacher I have ever had. Mr. Dendrinos was the first to ignite in me a curiosity about stuff. Not just with the assigned classwork, but in the field trips into Manhattan to the Metropolitan Museum of Art and other museums. After one trip to the Met he brought in a copy of Charles Demuth’s painting “I Saw the Figure 5 in Gold” which Mr. Dendrinos had painted as a way of talking with some of us about geometric shapes, art, and taking on a good challenge. After school, he taught some of us to play chess and occasionally he would play four or five of us simultaneously. When I beat him for the first time, he studied the board, looked up sternly, and then broke into a wide grin. He prodded each of us and cheered us all on through our failures and our accomplishments.

“His patience and wit inspired so many of us,” my classmate and best friend Jim Lewis who now writes for “The Muppets” told me.

Mr. Dendrinos died in Pennsylvania, on February 16, at 91, in what his online obituary says was “a brief illness and a very well-lived life.”

I should have tried harder to find him. It strikes me that the right thing would have been to let him know that his inspiration as a teacher reached quite far and continues to resonate. I’m reminded that I should make the effort to thank those in my past and present for their gifts of guidance.

I never had the chance to tell Mr. Dendrinos just how much influence he had on the person I have become before he died. So now I am telling you.

Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of The Simple Art of Business Etiquette: How to Rise to the Top by Playing Nice, is a senior lecturer in public policy and director of the communications program at Harvard's Kennedy School. He is also the administrator of www.jeffreyseglin.com, a blog focused on ethical issues.

Do you have ethical questions that you need to have answered? Send them to jeffreyseglin@gmail.com. 

Follow him on Twitter @jseglin. 

(c) 2021 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by TRIBUNE CONTENT AGENCY, LLC.

If you need help ask for it

In his poem, “How to Be Perfect,” Ron Padgett writes, “If you need help, ask for it.” Padgett’s poem is full of sage advice, but that line about asking for help when needing it rings quite true now.

In an earlier column, I was clear about my intention to patiently wait my turn to schedule a COVID-19 vaccine based on my state’s vaccine distribution plan. I did sign up for the state’s preregistration system which is designed to alert eligible residents when their time has come and to walk them through the appointment process. But I was reluctant to ask for help trying to find a vaccine appointment out of concern that I might end up taking a spot from someone more in need who was ahead of me in line.

My time came on a recent Monday. I started searching online for available appointments at mass vaccination sites, pharmacies, or other outlets. Given that several hundred thousand more people became eligible the same day as I did, it was no surprise that I failed.

I tried again on Tuesday right as I woke up to start the day at 4:30 a.m. Failure. Throughout the rest of the day, failure. My family and friends sent helpful suggestions. None worked. No word ever came from the preregistration system.

Late on Tuesday afternoon, in between Zoom meetings and other work, it crossed my mind to call my city’s helpline to see if I might be able to book something over the phone. It’s the same line I call when my trash is missed on pickup day. The answerer patiently told me the line didn’t do this, but then asked me how old I was.

“64,” I told her.

“You should try Age Strong, which provides services to senior citizens in the city,” she said. She gave me the number.

It had never crossed my mind to look to services for older citizens for help. But I am one and I called the next morning to give Age Strong my information. About four hours later, a woman from Age Strong called back and helped me book an appointment for the next day. She kept me on the phone long enough to make sure I received a confirmation text. “Be kind to old people, even when they are obnoxious,” Padgett writes in his poem. “When you become old, be kind to young people.”

I received my first vaccination the next day from a young woman just out of nursing school. She was kind, although I don’t believe I was obnoxious. By the time I went to sit in the area set aside for the 15-minute observation post vaccination, I received a text confirming the appointment for my second vaccination three weeks later.

It took far less time than many people face trying to book a vaccine, but I had found myself growing frustrated. I am guilty of not always asking for help when I need it. But as soon as I embraced the idea that it’s the right thing to ask for help when needed, my fortunes turned.

“Calm down,” Padgett writes in his poem. I am calmer now and I am hopeful that others find success in navigating the vaccine process and embracing the idea that they should ask for help when they need it.

Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of The Simple Art of Business Etiquette: How to Rise to the Top by Playing Nice, is a senior lecturer in public policy and director of the communications program at Harvard's Kennedy School. He is also the administrator of www.jeffreyseglin.com, a blog focused on ethical issues.

Do you have ethical questions that you need to have answered? Send them to jeffreyseglin@gmail.com. 

Follow him on Twitter @jseglin. 

(c) 2021 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by TRIBUNE CONTENT AGENCY, LLC.