Human Capital

Smith, who was an accounting assistant, came into the Manager's office. The office was situated at one end of the rectangular factory hall; it was elevated, located near the ceiling, so that one could overview the whole factory through the large window (although one could not look inside the office from the hall). "Did you call, Sir?" - Smith asked humbly. - "Indeed I did, Mr. Smith" - said the Manager, standing by his window, looking out. The Manager often arose from behind his desk, walked to the window, and looked at his workers in deep amusement. And so he stood. Smith was becoming a bit insecure. - "Is there anything I could do for you, Sir?" - he finally uttered. - "Yes" - the Manager said without looking away from the window. He finally moved away from the window, and looked at Smith. - "I want to upgrade my human capital" - he said. - "Human cattle?" - Smith, who obviously had a speech problem, inquired. The Manager smiled forbearingly, somewhat amused. "No, Smith," - he said - "human ca-pi-tal." - "Yes, Sir" - Smith said, not quite sure what the Manager wanted. - "I will send you on a course in production theory; if you do well you shall be promoted" - the Manager finally said.

Smith stood motionless as he heard the Manager's words. As his brain began interpreting them, he began understanding them, and as he understood, his brain began producing chemical substances, and - Smith became ebullient. He was filled with frantic joy and deep gratitude; he wanted to kiss the Manager's shining, black shoes; he wanted to embrace the Manager and never let go. - "I shall do my utmost, Sir" - Smith cried out, trying to be formal. The Manager would probably have noticed his sensation, no matter how hard Smith had tried. He smiled back to Smith in his usual, forbearing way - "Very well, Mr. Smith" - he said calmly - "now, the shareholders want those parameters in our production function improved, so get the rest of our human capital to work a bit faster, would you." - "Yes, Sir" - said Smith enthusiastically as he took the microphone in his hands, turned it on and said: "this is a message from the Manager's office: work faster you lazy bastards!"

The human capital in the hall, upon hearing the message, began working faster.  Fred began transporting factor inputs to the assembly faster; John began putting parts 03JF-a and 03JF-b together faster; Mustafa began sweeping the lavatory floor faster; Jeff began packing factor outputs faster; and so on for all of the dozens upon dozens of workers. The factory was much like an old-fashioned clock, really - and the faster the cogwheels were turning, the better.

As self-assured as Smith had been when speaking through the microphone, as humble he was when shifting his attention back to the Manager. - "Is there anything else I could do for you, Sir?" - "No, thank you, Smith, that would be all." - Smith left the office.

The Manager walked up to his window. He could hear Smith somewhere laughing and shouting joyfully. 'Human cattle, indeed,' the Manager thought to himself, smiling his usual, ambiguous smile. 'Smith knows his place, but he does not realize that he himself is no more than a cogwheel.' The Manager could make out a reflection of his own face in the window. 'Indeed,' he added, 'we're all just parts of the Machine, all just cogwheels.' It was not that the Manager was a philosopher. He was just a realist.