Mark Gibbs relates how Fidelity Investment has pretty much ruined the Christmas of four of their employees for what the company considers “gambling” on company time. The problem is that it was hardly gambling. Let the punishment fit the crime? Hah!
Cosmo Kramer: “And is there a tree?” / Frank Costanza: “No, instead, there’s a pole. It requires no decoration. I find tinsel distracting … It’s made from aluminum. Very high strength-to-weight ratio.” – Wikipedia article on Festivus
Whether you’ve just finished Hanukkah, about to dive into Christmas, getting ready for Kwanzaa, or about to jump into my favorite, Festivus (a single day, Dec. 23), the general air of happiness and fellow-feeling should be palpable … unless you are a soulless, financial behemoth with the warmth of an overdue tax notice and the cuddliness of a block of concrete studded with rusty nails.
Here’s the story: On Dec. 15, four employees of the private client group at Fidelity Investments office in Fort Worth, Texas (one of the world’s largest providers of financial services and the country’s biggest mutual fund sponsor), were canned for gambling at work. Let’s be clear: that was just four days from the end of Hanukkah, 10 days away from Christmas, 11 days from Kwanzaa and eight days from Festivus.
So, were these ne’er-do-wells playing high stakes poker? No. Perhaps betting on horses? Nope. They were playing in a $20 buy-in fantasy football league.
That’s gambling? According to company spokesdroid, Vin Loporchio: “We have clear policies that relate to gambling. Participation in any form of gambling through the use of Fidelity time or equipment or any other company resource is prohibited. … We want our employees to be focused on our customers and clients.” As a posting in Yahoo Sports noted, “Midcap funds, heck yeah! Football leagues, no”.
Exactly how their “wild” gambling was discovered is unclear, but it appears an e-mail from one of the miscreants to another one of the culprits, Cameron Pettigrew, concerning the deficiencies of Buffalo Bills’ quarterback, Trent Edwards, was the trigger (as NBC Sports noted, “If complaining about Trent Edwards was a crime, no one could work in Buffalo.”).
The result of this message was that Pettigrew was called on the carpet and they “talked to me for about 90 minutes on everything I ever knew about fantasy football … They interrogated me as though I was some sort of international gambling kingpin.”
As many online commentators have pointed out, in the eyes of the law fantasy football has legal protections that sports gambling doesn’t. To put that more clearly, the law says that fantasy football ain’t gambling, but that apparently cuts no ice with Fidelity.
The company searched Pettigrew’s PC and found two instant messages that referred to fantasy football. Combine those with the note about Edwards and, well, I think we can all agree, Fidelity had no choice … the man was obviously a scofflaw, a miscreant, a wanton libertine bent on the devil’s work and cheating the company.
Now, the more cynical of us might think that given these hard times, these firings were most likely driven by a need to cut costs rather curb abuse of corporate resources and violation of workplace rules. According to the Star-Telegram, Pettigrew had “never had a warning in his 2 1/2 years at the company [and] said he would have understood a warning or a dock in pay.”
To add insult to injury, Pettigrew’s 401(k) retirement plan wasn’t vested (he hadn’t worked there long enough to meet the federally mandated period of service), so he also lost out on thousands of dollars.
The trouble is that Pettigrew and his fellow miscreants aren’t the only people who get abused by major corporations, and if they are to get any satisfaction they’ll have to go to law against an opponent that has far greater resources.
So, in the season of good will following on from Hanukkah, just around the corner from Christmas and Kwanzaa, and a night or two’s sleep from Festivus, I wish Pettigrew and friends as good a holiday as can be expected. The bottom line is that when you’re looking under many corporate Christmas tree (or Festivus pole), don’t expect to find kindness, fellow-feeling or justice.
