_edited.jpg)
How to Gut Your Crew
An operational guide to securing a billion-dollar contract by introducing Hummer
We’re 90% done with the project. That last 10% is where everything mysteriously works. Which is unfortunate, because I just got offered a billion-dollar contract on one condition: Hire Hummer.
Yes. That Hummer. My brother-in-law’s little brother. Full-time Grand Pappy’s basement resident. Part-time Jedi. Carries a plastic lightsaber like it’s a concealed carry permit and OSHA is the Empire.
He once asked if a grade beam was “canon.” So obviously—we’re hiring him.
And if I have to torch a perfectly functional crew to make it happen, that’s just business development.
Step 1: Identify the Problem (Success)
The crew is too good. They communicate. They anticipate problems. They fix things before I even know they exist. This level of competence is a direct threat to family advancement. A stable crew creates confidence—and confidence does not unlock billion-dollar contracts tied to basement extraction missions.
We must destabilize.
Step 2: Retention Is a Threat Vector
One-on-ones are banned.
Feeling “valued” leads to dangerous ideas like: “I have options.” We replace retention with what I call: “Soft Encouragement to Exit at Peak Skill.”
Step 3: Flatten Advancement (Directly Into the Ground)
No promotions. No career paths.
Everyone is now:
Crew Member (Indefinite Tactical Unit)
Training programs only approved if they sound like psychological warfare:
“Advanced Overtime Endurance Without Emotional Consequence”
“How to Agree With Leadership While Your Soul Quietly Unionizes”
Hummer doesn’t need a ladder. He needs a throne. One we absolutely did not anchor properly.
Step 4: Introduce Controlled Chaos
We don’t destroy morale. We “optimize scheduling flexibility.”
Meaning:
Monday meetings → Sunday 4:00 a.m. (“alignment window”)
Lunch → “optional hydration awareness period”
Fridays → “conceptual workdays”
When the best operator quits to “see his kids before they forget him,” we throw him a farewell lunch.
Little Caesars. No dipping sauce. Message received.
Step 5: Nepotism as a Strategic Contract Gateway
Enter Hummer — newly appointed Assistant Field Visionary.
Responsibilities include:
Observing equipment with visible suspicion
Asking if hydraulics are “force sensitive”
Referring to excavators as “big ground robots”
Leading toolbox talks entirely in sound effects and incorrect Star Wars lore
He will be placed directly above the superintendent who has prevented this job from becoming a multi-agency incident report for eighteen months.
The superintendent will adapt.
He always does. That’s the tragedy of competence—it survives too well to protect itself.
Step 6: Allow the Domino Effect to Self-Organize
Once the first experienced operator leaves, the math takes over.
Departures create workload entropy.Entropy creates confusion.Confusion creates vacancies.
Vacancies create “temporary opportunities” for Hummer to shadow leadership.
Now in a high-vis vest that says: Jedi Site Commander
Final Outcome
Six weeks later:
40% of the crew has wisely departed
30% remain confused but loyal
20% are now doing three jobs and experiencing a quiet spiritual collapse
10% is pure Hummer energy
The billion-dollar contract clears. The inspector signs off because he “doesn’t want to get involved in whatever this is.” And Grand Pappy’s basement is finally empty.
Mission accomplished.
EDITOR’S NOTE
This is satire. Do not restructure your workforce around basement extraction incentives, no matter how large the contract. The boring version—where you pay good people well and promote based on competence—continues to outperform this strategy in every measurable dimension.
Regrettably.
Read the Real Advice, its pretty good : How to Build a Crew That Stays - AEM
Comments