Uniformity

Believe it or not and, like it or not, most of us wear a uniform of some sort every time we go to work. Hard to fathom? Well, the executive’s uniform consists of the suit and tie (or counterpart from the lady’s department). Hence, the appropriate moniker “suits”. And underlings all don, pin, or tie some accoutrement to themselves so as to be identified as employees.

But in this age of individualism, I find that the once readily identifiable uniform is slowly disappearing from the workplace. And I find this to be a shame. “Why?”, you ask. “What I wear has nothing to do with how I do my job, so what difference does it make?”

Well, for one thing, your uniform separates you from all the other schmucks in the place and tells me, at a glance, that you’re the one I need should I have a question or problem. I find myself asking people if they work there simply because they have no name-tag, vest, or other obvious indication of employ. C’mon, make it easy on us schmucks trying to spend some money in your store. Larger companies differentiate between employee groups through the wearing of different uniforms and this makes it easier for everyone while providing a sense of esprit de corps.

There are some positions where a uniform implies authority or job description while other uniforms are necessary for workplace cleanliness and the like. Others, still, pay homage to those that preceded and contributed to the gains currently enjoyed. Regardless, whatever uniform is mandated by your employer, it is a safe bet that you knew about it from the first day your were hired. And, on that first day, I’d bet you would have been happy to wear pink tights and spike heels if that helped sealed the deal. That was then, though, and this is now. You’re disgruntled, disheartened, disenchanted, and any other dis- you want to throw in. Don’t forget the under-’s, either: underpaid, under-appreciated, and so forth.

There’s a word for these explanations: crap! Pure, unadulterated crap. Face it: you just don’t care about the job or yourself as much as you once did. So why try any harder than you have to and, hey, the boss hasn’t said anything, so what’s the prob? The “prob” is many faceted. First of all, how about having the professionalism in wearing your prescribed “uniform”. That would be called self respect, too. Absent that, how about having a modicum of respect for your co-workers that wear their uniforms as they work at your side? I know, a tall order. Well, how about wearing your uniform because, if you don’t, your boss’ll rip you a new one. Oh yeah, not many bosses like that anymore, are there?

So here we are with few employees giving a rat’s ass and fewer supervisors willing to be unpopular in requiring something more than the very least. Can anyone be surprised if the workplace becomes something less than efficient, professional, or productive?

The airline pilot profession is no different in regards to uniforms. The old standard consisted of a suit coat with stripes, wings on the chest, and a hat. Today, some airlines have done away with the hat, altogether, and substituted the coats with leather jackets. Some airline pilots no longer wear ties, in accordance with their company regulations. In my particular case, pilots are afforded the option of coats or, in the summer, no coat at all. The hat and wings, though, are still considered required accessories. Some of my fellow employees seem to regard those two items as options, too, and the resulting scene is one of almost carnival-like proportions. A hodge-podge of supposedly professional aviators looking more like teen-age wannabe’s. Some claim that they are projecting a symbol of unhappiness with the decisions of management. Others say that when they are paid more, they’ll dress better. I wonder why they expect to be paid more when they don’t look like they deserve their current rates of pay. I’m not crazy about my management team, either, but I feel a responsibility to myself and my profession to look as good as I can when I come to work. Am I perfect? Hell, no, but in attempting to maintain a high standard, it seems that I come closer than many of my colleagues.

Since I entered the workforce some 41 years ago, I’ve worn some sort of item that could be called, in varying degrees, a uniform. I’ve not always enjoyed it nor have I always understood why I was asked to wear it. But I wore it because, if for no other reason, I was expected to. I always had the choice of quitting, as others do, but deemed the requirement a small demand in return for the compensation I received.

It’s about many things: professionalism, regulation, customer recognition, and respect. And it’s about time...