A couple of weeks ago I told you about my friend Nick and his somewhat old manish ranting about the modern day proliferation of abbreviations like ‘admin’. He was digging weeds at the time, an expression that another friend, Andrew – who also likes to pick up on things that other people might deem unworthy of their time – called into question. “Surely the term is ‘weeding’?” he argued.
I replied that ‘weeding’ suggests a more precise act of removing weeds from among other more desirable plants, whereas ‘digging weeds’ implies that there was little else in Nick’s garden other than weeds – physically and possibly metaphorically; he was that wound up. So I thought I’d take the object of his fury, ‘admin’, and expand on it (get it?).
Humans have an uncomfortable relationship with the word administration, for three reasons. Firstly, it’s too long (sorry, Nick). Secondly, the verb that goes with it feels like it should be ‘administrate’ but it’s not, it’s ‘administer’, which conjures up images of potions rather than paper clips.
Thirdly, there is far too much of it about. It hasn’t been recognised in the same way as the Stone Age or the Bronze Age but we are living through the Admin Age. Every day we spend hours on it. We are constantly inventing software solutions to help manage it but every solution comes with its own administrative tasks, which only add to the weight of admin we have to perform.
I have a dream that by the time I die I will have completed all my admin tasks. Heaven is an empty Inbox. In fact, I’m rather hoping that I have a few admin-free years in which to relax and enjoy myself before going to the great Spam folder in the sky. But my Dad is 94 and he spends all day, every day doing admin. Or Dadmin, as we call it. The more admin you do, the more admin you create. Like traffic and pond weed, admin expands to fill the space available.
Hands up everyone who has a ‘to do’ list. And how many items on that list are administration? Here’s an idea: replace all the admin tasks on your ‘to do’ list with an actual constructive act, like meeting a friend or eating a bun or, I dunno, digging weeds. Resist the temptation to respond to emails, fill in forms, call the Planning department, chase Transport for London for the remainder of the penalty fine that they should have paid back but still haven’t, even though the Ombudsman and even the Mayor of London told them they should.
It will be hard at first. You’ll imagine yourself being swamped by unadministered admin and terrible things happening as a result of your neglect, but soon you’ll start to notice that the admin begins to disappear. You start to get your life back. You sleep better at night. You notice bird song and the changing colour of the leaves. You have fun and interesting conversations with members of your family, you eat some nice buns, your garden becomes weed-free – physically and metaphorically.
So just as admin increases the more of it you do, by doing no admin, you eradicate admin. I have to admit this is purely theoretical at the moment but it stands to reason, doesn’t it? It’s like a gnat bite; if you leave it alone it goes away. I haven’t put this to the test myself, but I’m hoping enough of you will give it a go to be able to report back with your findings.
But then again, please don’t bother. You’ll only create work for yourselves. And whatever you do, when this arrives in your Inbox, don’t read it
