I love Stanley and all his tweed curmudgeonliness. If you ask most people their favorite Office characters, the more grandiose are sure to be in their top picks. But Stanley, I love the guy. For being who he is, for showing us his faults, and for the attitude that he is simply doing a job he was paid to do.
For that, Stanley is the original Quiet Quitter. And we can all learn from him.
As an actor, I respect the craft. He is so brilliantly underplayed. There is great restraint on his part to not fall into big, outrageous performances. That seems to be the direction for many of the most beloved characters, as they stray into caricature territory. And that is fine. No judgement here. They are big, funny performances. Just, Stanley is different. He doesn’t get celebrated too much. So I want to do that here.
Quit Quitting is one of those catchy phrases created on TikTok, that puts a new handle on behaviors that are already there. It’s provocative. It’s super actionable. And I’m just talking about the phrase, and not the act.
Well, that’s because the act is really not much to see. I liken the phrase to clickbait, and the act, to the article you click to. You are immediately unimpressed that “#13 You Will Never Believe,” is actually quite believable. Maybe even a little boring.
Quiet quitting is boring too. It’s someone doing the job they were hired to do, nothing more, nothing less. And if you watch Stanley’s performance, you get it. It’s him doing a crossword. It’s him leaving right at 5.
Do More. Get Paid The Same.
Yet, there is a stigma attached to Quiet Quitting. There is an expectation that you must do more than you were hired to do to move up in the company. Think about that. You were hired for a job, your job description is generally mapped out in writing, yet you are expected to go beyond that.
You are quietly told to do more, without more pay, and with the carrot that you will move to a better job. And once you get there, you are expected to do that new job and the one above that. Until you get that next promotion, and so on, and so on.
It’s dizzying.
Stanley is a good salesperson. He does his job of selling paper. He’s not raising his hand to plan office parties (unpaid), doing a seminar on safety (unpaid), or getting swept up in any of the other outrageous disruptions that happen each episode.
Instead, Stanley sticks to his job and sells paper. He’s not the top salesperson, and not the worst. He lands right in the middle. And that’s ok. He makes enough doing it to support himself and his family. He makes it home each night for dinner, and attends family events. His clients like him, and when he is not selling paper, or called into the office hi-jinx, he retreats to his crossword puzzle.
Can you blame him?
Quiet Quitting Is Brave
Stanley is confident he can’t be fired for not paying attention to one of Michael’s off-topic meetings, so he doesn’t. That takes bravery, as it’s easy to simply follow the flock, and do things that you‘re not getting paid for, that really have nothing to do with work.
He isn’t being inauthentic by pretending to care about an event that everyone else seems embroiled in. He doesn’t feel the need to kiss ass, like many of us do in our jobs. Pretending to care about our arrogant boss’s softball victory. Or to earn favor by asking about the vacation of a less than respectful manager.
To the casual observer, Stanley is checked out and lazy. But to those who are willing to look deeper, they see he is simply doing his job, and establishing clear boundaries around it. And I respect him for that. And maybe you do too.
Day. And Night.
In the ad world, you are rewarded for long nights, weekends, and taking on more work than probably went into your job description. I know of some celebrated agencies who would not promote you, until you did the job of the level above you (well), for at least a year. Yep, the bar for promotion was doing your job and the one above. And after that promotion, the cycle begins again.
I was never a quiet quitter, at least until I had a family. I went above and beyond because of the hustle culture at my agency. I started out at 17k in Los Angeles, 1996. The only way I could make a living wage was overtime. So I hustled, and bustled and blew the house down.
And then, I had my first kid.
Now, I still hustled, but working weekends or long nights was not in the cards for me. I’d rather be at home with my family than working on a pitch with people I didn’t necessarily like. And, in most cases, we lost the pitch before the process even begun.
When you are working with people younger than you, who are making that low wage and needing overtime, that boundary you hold becomes a personal liability in the hustle culture of agencies. There was always that boss with the shoulder chip who thought, if I am here on a Saturday without my family, you will be too.
And I would quietly think, “Fuck you.”
The Risk Of Family First. Job Second.
Anyone who knew me would never question my performance, as I was constantly going above and beyond, even with kids. I just did it during normal business hours. In doing so, I brought esteem to my employer and bosses. I brought the first Cannes Lion, dozens of thought pieces in Adweek and other pubs, speechwriting and more. And that is probably the half of it. I even turned down a trip to Cannes, because I would have missed my son’s graduation.
For that indiscretion, I was never asked again. It became clear that choosing my family over Rose was the beginning of the end.
Every time I wanted a promotion, it wasn’t just given to me. I had to fight for it. I had to have those awkward discussions to simply get what I rightfully deserved. And only when I became a hot commodity, and recruiters came out in full force, was I able to get the raise and recognition that was due to me.
But I had to go on an interview to get it.
And, that is hard to forgive.
Eventually, I was let go. No explanation. No indication. Nothing on my performance. I was simply doing the job I was paid to do. Yet, it became the best thing to ever happen to me. I vowed to be better when I started my own agency.
Hustle Culture is Toxic
Yes, it is toxic, but it is almost everywhere. And is the quiet secret of many agencies. So when Luis and I started Cast Iron LA, we knew we had to combat that. People are given a job, and they do it. They are recognized for doing their job, not the one above them.
We both believe family is always first. We don’t have a catchy slogan for it. In fact, It doesn’t even have a name we plaster on our socials to show who we are.
We simply do it. quietly.
So, take some advice from Stanley. Do your job. Do it well. And if your workplace won’t reward you for doing what you were hired to do, find somewhere that will.
Those places are out there. Just takes some digging.
(Also, today is a good day to ask for a raise. So do it.)
