What I Learned This Week: Suffer The Innocent

It’s been a week and I’m still kinda pissed off.  To cut to the chase, here’s the story:

Last Tuesday, I was part of a panel at the Banff International TV Festival.  At first, I was told that I would be able to give a five-minute pitch on my TXT-TV project, so I spent a good deal of time preparing a 15-slide presentation, and a very vibrant one if I must say so myself.

A few days before the event, I was told that unfortunately, there would be no pitch, but that they’d choose one of the slides to illustrate the project. Oh well.

Then, at the last minute (Saturday afternoon), plans changed once again and I was asked to create a slide that squeezes everything we're working on and thinking down into one image ("a single ppt slide that briefly outlines your company’s mobile vision and current tactical efforts" was the exact mandate).  Arrrgggh!  Despite a family wedding and other pressing commitments, I stayed up late Sunday night fulfilling this obligation.

So, cut to the panel itself, where the moderator matter-of-factly tells me as we take our seats on stage that he ain’t showing my slide, or any others for that matter.

“Why not?” I asked, figuring maybe there were tech problems or other such hassles.

“Because two of the other panelists didn’t do ‘em,” I was told flatly.

“So why not just show the two that did do ‘em?” I rationalized. (By the way, the other “do-er” was Richard Kanee of CTV.)

“Because I want to maintain consistency,” was the answer.

“So let me get this straight," I seethed.  "I bust my ass to do the work, but because others didn’t, my work is flushed so we all appear equal.”

“Yeah.”  And he turned away.

Just mofo-in' "Yeah."  That was all she wrote.

As infuriating as that was, the following made my mood even darker.

Two days later, I’m in Toronto on my way to Chicago.  Knowing that the line-up for American customs and immigration is unbearably long, I play it safe and show up more than two hours before my flight (a half-hour more than the recommended 90 minutes).  Sure enough, there’s the population of a small Midwestern town in line in front of me, but thanks to Dan Pink’s “Drive” on my Kindle, the 45-minute procession was made somewhat bearable.

So what happens just as I’m about to approach the U.S. Immigration Officer?  An airline agent swoops in front of me with a harried passenger who is about to miss his flight (and who obviously didn’t follow conventional wisdom and arrive early).  What’s worse is that he wasn’t the only one.  About a dozen others jumped to the front of the line as agents barked out “Any passengers in line for Flight 175 leaving in 10 minutes?”

So here’s what I learned twice:

Too often, the innocent get punished, while the guilty get rewarded.

This must stop.  Here’s what I would’ve done in Banff had I been the Moderator:

I would’ve called out the fact that while all four of us were mandated with the same task, only two of us did it, so let’s hear it for the ones who did and let’s give ‘em some extra love. 

A little embarrassing for the others?  Hell yes, but you can be sure they’ll either prepare or decline next time.

And here’s what I would do if I were the Almighty King of the Airlines:

Good on you if you come early.  You’re supposed to. 

But if you come late and have to line-jump, you'll pay a hefty fine that grows in proportion to how close-to-the-bone you’re cutting it.  The financial windfall would be enormous.

Then I’d use those funds to hire more Immigration Officers...and pay for some sort of audio/video system to entertain the rest of us who show up on time and wait our turn patiently.

And finally, I’d transform this “Praise the Innocent, Punish the Guilty” rant into a topic to present at future conferences.

So...any volunteers to be on my panel?