I come from a family of civil servants; as of this writing, I’m the daughter, grand-daughter, great-grand-daughter, sister, and niece of current or retired government employees. I myself spent the first years of my own career in government service. So did my husband. All this service happened in addition to military service during World War I, World War II, Afghanistan, and many other actions. The roots of serving our country run deep and true in my family.
Image: Tomascastelazo
Our salaries were lower. We were subject to performance reviews and production requirements. We earned our positions based on merit first and networking second. We got up and went to work every day, and we worried about feeding ourselves and our families. Our jobs put roofs over our heads and gave us adequate clothing. We weren’t any different from private sector employees, except in one way: our employers’ bottom line was service, not profit.
That bottom line is what made all the difference for us. All of us were capable of obtaining and holding down equivalent private-sector jobs. Many of us had, prior to our entry into government service. Perhaps the most telling example was, in fact, me: I didn’t seek employment outside government. I was actively recruited into private industry. It hadn’t been the first time, but it was the first time I’d gotten an offer I couldn’t refuse. Both the pay and the benefits were better, and I needed the increases.
To be specific, my first private-sector pay rate was $15.75 per hour, which the CPI Inflation Calculator tells me is about $26.00 in today’s money. That’s a respectable pay rate, but it’s not unusually high. But that’s all it cost to attract me away from government service — even though, at the time I was recruited, I was above the midpoint of my government position’s scheduled salary range. (See above under “capable.”)
Civil servants aren’t getting rich off the taxpayers’ backs, and they work hard to make sure that all the government programs out there run in a way that serves the most people possible. Many of us are quietly proud to be in service to the taxpayers and, by extension, to society at large.
We also have political opinions. Working in government, at any level, means an up-close and personal encounter with the topics discussed in high school civics. This was particularly true for me, since I was in human resources. In addition, at one point, I only worked two buildings away from my state legislature; I sometimes even went to the legislative cafeteria to buy my lunches.
I’ve spent time around lawmakers, policymakers, and political appointees. It’s impossible not to do so when you’re in government service. But the politicians within government never asked me whether I voted for them, or whether my opinions matched theirs. I’d have declined to answer if they had; thanks to the Hatch Act and similar protections, I had that right. My job was to implement and execute decided policy to the best of my scope and ability, not to debate it.
That’s why I’ve shuddered every time I’ve seen news articles about loyalty questions and similar “vetting” by the Trump Administration. The employees in question aren’t decision makers or policy wonks, and they’re charged with carrying out their jobs regardless of their opinion about their organization’s chief executive and his actions. Our opinions on such topics are irrelevant to our job descriptions, and the loyalty we owe is no different from (and no more than) the loyalty any other employee owes to their employer. Civil servants also deserve the right to be evaluated on job performance instead of political matters.
They also have whistleblower protections, including the right to not be forced to “spy” on their colleagues. I don’t know a single career-level civil servant who would willingly answer the kinds of questions current Federal employees are reportedly getting. We definitely wouldn’t be willing to answer them if we didn’t even know who was asking them or why. Unfortunately, threatening our livelihoods has the same effect as threatening anyone else’s livelihood. Employees are going to answer, not because they want to or think they should, but because they’ll be terrified not to, particularly given their chances of being reclassified as political appointees even when they aren’t.
This will not lead to greater efficiency in government. In fact, it will likely do the exact opposite:
The financial impact of a toxic workplace is potentially massive. Disengaged employees, who are less productive and more likely to miss work, directly affect a company’s bottom line. High turnover rates, driven by toxic environments, lead to increased recruitment and training costs, further straining company resources.
Additionally, a toxic work environment can increase healthcare costs due to stress-related health issues among employees. Companies might also face legal expenses if workplace injustices lead to lawsuits or compliance problems. These hidden costs highlight the critical need for companies to address and rectify toxic workplace cultures.
Toxic workplaces are no better for government than they are for business, and workplace productivity is one area where a government can be run like a business. The taxpayers deserve no less than that, which means their civil servants deserve to work in an environment free of fear and intimidation.