By Ryn Gargulinski

The worst boss I ever had was a robot. Well, not a robot in the “Terminator” sense that would blow your head off if you didn’t hand in an assignment on time. But a robotic time-tracking software that recorded and shared my every single move.

These tracking programs became the rage once Covid hit and people were gleefully working from home. Anytime a work situation can be described as “gleeful,” you know some middle manager has to come along and wreck it.

Instead of thinking how wonderful it is that employees may actually be doing a better job since they’re enjoying their work, this middle manager person wonders: “How do we even know they’ll be doing work?”

Never mind that all assignments are being handed in on time. Never mind that the greatest ideas from employees, ever, are being shared freely and frequently on Slack. The middle manager was born to make things miserable.

And work-from-home tracking software is the perfect weapon with which to do it.

Since I’m a Gen X-er originally from the Midwest, I have a big-time work ethic. So I initially thought nothing of this time-tracking stuff when I was hired as senior writer for a major website. I figured the tracking software would simply back up the phenomenal way I tend to work myself to death and produce amazing results.

Boy, was I wrong. It instead made me out to be a listless shirker.

That’s because the tracking software is only happy if you’re making some type of mouse or keyboard movement. Writers need to think. Move. Stretch. Expand. Breathe some fresh air and look at a tree or two to best generate and build up ideas.

But the time tracker decided every thought, move, stretch or breath of fresh air that took me away from any type of mouse or keyboard motion for more than two minutes meant I was “on break” and would dock my pay.

Going to the bathroom cost me. Getting lunch from the fridge cost me. Refilling my water bottle cost me. Those weekly Zoom meetings the whole staff is forced to attend cost me. Any time you’re not moving your mouse or tapping a keyboard key, the software brands you a listless shirker.

It gets even better. One of my duties was creating social media posts. I had to research contributor social media handles and other brands’ social strategies. The tracking software deemed social media platforms as “blacklisted sites.” So all that research cost me.

I think a pretty bad sneeze even cost me once.

By the end of my first 40-hour work week, the tracking software reported I worked something like 13 hours.

That’s when I began to rebel.

“You want productive every single minute, you junk-butt software? I’ll give you productive every single minute.”

Since keeping the mouse moving and clicking was the key to being seen as productive, I learned how to keep the mouse moving and clicking.

I’d shuffle the mouse during the weekly Zoom staff meetings. Productive! I’d carry it around and shake it when I went to the fridge or the bathroom. Productive! I even learned how far I could venture out in my backyard to look at an idea-generating tree while shaking the mouse and still being recorded as productive.

My mouse turned into a kind of house-arrest ankle monitor. I knew how far I could go, how much shaking and clicking was required, and what kind of surface works best to keep the software happily marking me as productive. For the record, shuffling it on the side of your thigh works in a pinch. Shuffling on the side of a tree doesn’t.

I started going through something like three mouse batteries every two weeks, not to mention the new mouse to replace the old mouse with the busted clicker. But I was recorded as productive, productive!

It got to the point where I became more worried about the software recording me as productive than actually being productive. With my mind (and arm) focused on keeping the mouse shuffling and shaking, it took longer to generate ideas.

It took longer to go to the bathroom. And lunch time became a big long mess when the mouse shaking interfered with the sandwich making. Mustard and electronics do not mix.

This went on for two whole years…until the company was sold to a South American entity that fired all U.S. workers. While it came as a crushing blow at first, it quickly turned into a blessing. No more house-arrest mouse monitor!

But the horror wasn’t over yet. It took at about a month for me to get out of the habit of taking my mouse into the bathroom or kitchen. I sat around shaking it, or just my arm, for another month or two. And sometimes when I’m falling asleep, my mouse hand will still start to shuffle, click and twitch.

You’ll read a mixed bag of studies that compare productivity rates of working from home against working from the office. Some say employees are more productive at home. Others insist they do better on site.

Whatever the case, one thing is for sure: tracking software is not the answer. Unless you think the answer should involve lowering employee morale, giving them the feeling of not being trusted, and providing a needless distraction that interferes with their work as well as their lunch.

Why not simply gauge productivity – get this – on actual production? Do your employees hand in good work on time? Complete every task you give them? Show up when they’re expected to be there? If yes, then who cares how many mouse clicks it took to get them there.

Let them go look at a tree or stretch without penalty. Let them refill a water bottle while on the clock. Let them work, happy and free. You may be amazed by the remarkable results — with the most remarkable surely delivered without the heavy yoke of a time tracker.

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Ryn Gargulinski is an award-winning writer and artist whose latest book explores trials and tribulations that go beyond time-tracking software. It’s entitled “How to Get Through Hell on Earth without Drinking a Keg or Kicking a Garden Gnome.” Get your copy or learn more at RynskiLife.com.