You were sold a mission. You got Microsoft Teams (Part 2)

Congratulations on the Job. Condolences on the Reality.

In Part 1, we discussed ambiguous job descriptions. Now, we'll talk about what's even worse: getting the job.

You were sold a mission. You got Microsoft Teams.

Here's the real tragedy. You land the job. You sit at the desk. You start the job. And suddenly you realize: Oh. I just type into a computer. I maintain systems I didn’t build. I answer emails about calendars. I optimize processes that don’t want to be optimized.

And if—god forbid—you try to change something? Gasp! To question the way things have always been done? You're not a visionary. You're a risk. A question mark in the manager who prefers status quo to innovation.

We’re expected to be creative—but not inconvenient.
We want to do meaningful work—but not rock the boat.
We’re told to be “forward-thinking”—in a system that still runs on Outlook and fear.

Because the system isn’t built for change.
The system is the system.
And it protects itself.

Marianne Bos

The System Wants Predictable Outputs, Not Dangerous Ideas.

Organizations want innovation, until innovation means doing something differently.

Because doing something differently is risky. And risk is scary. And scary things threaten good quarterly reports.

So, the system self-selects for “safe” creativity: PowerPoints. Brainstorms. “Blue sky thinking” with minimal intent to execute.

Meanwhile, actual change-makers are quietly labelled “difficult” and someone who causes their manager more work.

Translation: Change threatens the comfort of the system.

So why does the bullshit persist?

• Because it works just well enough to keep the big machine flowing.

• Because it protects power.

• Because it keeps the corporation humming—predictably, quietly, expensively.

But here’s the thing: systems don’t change themselves. People do.

So yeah, the job description is vague on purpose. The meetings are bloated on purpose. The structure is designed to absorb your ambition and spit out slide decks.

But some of us are still out here—pushing, questioning, building. Not because it's easy, but because pretending this is normal is soul rot. If you’ve ever felt like you’re the only one who sees the absurdity, you’re not. And if enough of us keep refusing to play dead inside, maybe—just maybe—the system won’t win.