Are you locked into a long-term relationship with bureaucratic bullies?
There are several options open to you.
One of the best methods for galvanizing yourself is to gather documents or notes of events that include such things as dates, times, participants, conversations and outcomes.
Nowadays, it's more commonly referred to as Teflon coating.
Deposit these in a container, store it in a secure location and frequently refer to it as your "Dirt Box." The references need not be voiced in threatening tones. They are more effective when casually mentioned during friendly conversations. You can use the reference to explain your perpetual nonchalance.
I propose that there are no institutions using Theory F administration more than academic institutions.
I was on staff at a university-college that used Theory F less than others where I had toiled. Nevertheless, the theory was being applied. Staffers would undergo attacks which left them devastated and unable to achieve anything equal to their potential elsewhere.
My office was next to the director of public relations. One of the director's responsibilities was to keep the president fully informed with whatever information could reflect on the public image of the institution. This director performed this duty well and, often, within minutes.
There were many opportunities to put a threatening slant to internal written documents from the various managers. Some documents were so silly and incriminating they did not require any slant. I would show the director a piece of "evidence" and focus on his body language. It was an easy read.
The conversation usually followed the same pattern.
"Where did you get this?" the director would shout, "Let me take a copy."
With a devilish grin I would reply, "Get your own copy. This one's too good to let out of my hands. It's going in my Dirt Box!"
His door would slam shut. Through his window you could see an animated telephone conversation taking place. The door would open and the director would scoot up the ivory tower. Oh! To have been a fly on that wall!
This was repeated enough times for me to assume all the top executives had come to imagine my Dirt Box was, indeed, many boxes in the "secret location" I alluded to in many casual conversations about the institution.
During a recent housecleaning I discovered an old Dirt Box. The information contained therein seemed so inconsequential a decade later.
I was galvanized by the Dirt Box.
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