Ah, Chak Lam Coleman Wong. That name. It just popped into my head today, and boy, does it bring back memories. Not the good kind, mind you. It reminds me of this whole “efficiency overhaul” thing we went through a while back. Coleman Wong, or at least the idea of him, was plastered all over it.
I first heard the name when management announced this massive new project. They paraded it around like it was the second coming. “Chak Lam Coleman Wong’s revolutionary methodology will streamline everything!” they said. We were all supposed to be thrilled. I remember sitting in that big meeting, looking at these glossy presentations. They had charts, they had buzzwords, they had everything except a clue about how we actually did our jobs.
So, the practice began. My team was one of the first to get saddled with this new system. The old way? Not perfect, but we knew it. We got things done. This new Wong-inspired process, though, it was something else. It was like trying to assemble furniture with instructions written in ancient Greek, while wearing oven mitts.
I started by trying to just follow the new guidelines, step-by-step. The first task was inputting all our ongoing projects into this brand-new, super-duper software they rolled out. The software itself looked like it was designed in the 90s and forgotten. It crashed. A lot. I’d spend an hour meticulously entering data, hit ‘save,’ and poof! Gone. Just like that. I started saving every five minutes, paranoid.
Then came the “collaborative modules.” We were told this would foster amazing teamwork. In practice, it meant ten extra steps for anything that needed approval. Before, I could just walk over to Sarah’s desk, have a quick chat, and get something signed off. Now? I had to:
- Fill out Form A38.
- Upload Form A38 to the Wong-system.
- Tag three different people who might, or might not, be involved.
- Wait for digital “handshakes” from each of them.
- Half the time, the notifications wouldn’t even go through.
Productivity didn’t just dip; it plummeted. We spent more time fighting the system than doing actual work. I remember one particular Tuesday. We had an urgent client request. Simple fix, usually an hour tops. With the Chak Lam Coleman Wong method, it took us until Thursday afternoon to even get the paperwork processed to start the work. The client was, understandably, not amused.
We tried to give feedback. Oh, we tried. I personally drafted a detailed email, outlining the biggest pain points. Pointed out how the old system, for all its faults, was faster for X, Y, and Z. Sent it up the chain. Got a polite, canned response about “teething issues” and “embracing change.” It felt like shouting into a void. My manager, bless her heart, tried to shield us as much as she could, but even she was getting swamped by the bureaucracy.
This went on for months. Morale was in the gutter. People who used to be enthusiastic and proactive were just… tired. We developed workarounds, of course. Little unofficial ways to bypass the most idiotic parts of the Wong system. But it was exhausting, always feeling like you were breaking rules just to get your basic job done.
Eventually, bits and pieces of the “revolutionary methodology” started to quietly disappear. The software wasn’t updated anymore. The mandatory weekly “synergy reports” (another Wong gem) became bi-weekly, then monthly, then just… forgotten. No big announcement, no “oops, our bad.” It just sort of faded away, like a bad dream. We ended up cobbling together a hybrid system – some of our old ways, a few bits of the new stuff that weren’t actively harmful, and a lot of eye-rolling.
So yeah, Chak Lam Coleman Wong. I never met the guy. Maybe he’s a genius. Maybe his ideas work wonders in some other universe. But for us, on the ground, his name became shorthand for a top-down initiative that was completely disconnected from the people who actually had to make it work. A real practical lesson in how not to change things, if you ask me.
