Jon22: The Website of Jonathan Dobres

Have you seen this business week article by Scott Buchanan? Buchanan, a Kellogg MBA and now a product manager for Microsoft, has given us a glimpse into what his job means, man. As someone with a career path that tends to elicit blank stares and wrong conclusions, I can relate. However, this article, though I can only read the first few paragraphs of it, is the most unintentionally hilarious thing I’ve seen since Ultraviolet. It represents virtually everything wrong about Microsoft and the corporate attitude toward technology. Let’s go sentence by sentence.

What happens after you’ve created an exceptional product?

Profit! Oh, sorry, that’s only after you steal underpants.

Well, you have to get your customers to buy it, use it, and ideally, love it. That even holds true for something as ubiquitous as Microsoft Office software.

Here, we learn an important business lesson. Ubiquity does not equal love. Someone should tell that to Paris Hilton. And also Microsoft.

In a nutshell, my job is all about unlocking the value in our products.

I am the Gatekeeper. Are you the Keymaster? (Sorry, best I could do. But this is just Buchanan’s market-speak wind up. Get ready for the pitch.)

For example, you can only experience the value of a chocolate chip cookie once you “deploy” it to your mouth or the value in a pair of running shoes once you “deploy” them to your feet. It’s the same with Office software

And I can experience the value of my enemies only when I “deploy” my foot to their faces. Are you kidding me? Seriously, are you kidding me? Cookies and shoes are nothing like Microsoft Office. People see the value in cookies because they are inherently delicious. There’s only so many things one can do with a cookie, and eventually you’re going to put it in your mouth and discover the yummy truth. Shoes are foot-shaped. While I’m sure you could use them as an awkward pair of mittens or an inefficient set of drinking glasses, the shoe communicates its entire function very easily. In other words, “deployment” and the discovery of value happen simultaneously, automatically, and intuitively. Microsoft Office, however, is like one of those Stargate pyramids, so laden with hieroglyphs and mysterious powers that it takes a symbiote to fully control it.

…our customers only realize the value of Smart Art, real-time editing, and other features once our technology is “deployed” on their computer.

That value? It makes you appreciate how wonderful your home life is compared to the cybernetic, clip art decorated hell of your office.

In my post-MBA job hunt, Microsoft was not the most obvious fit—I’m not a very technical guy.

You know what I like? I like that my hospital is essentially run by accountants. They merged the patient-family resource center with the medical library. Pleasant conversation and hard research, together at last. Genius.

On my first day at Microsoft it took me 30 minutes just to find the latch to open my laptop.

Either Kellogg is a terrible business school or Microsoft is testing you. They’re crafty like that. The third option is that you’re not very smart. Please pick no more than two of these.

I think that’s why my MBA at Kellogg has played such a vital part in my career development.

I get that this is a Business Week article ostensibly about career placement after obtaining an MBA, but I have absolutely no idea why you would choose to put this sentence right after the thing about the laptop. Remember those old grammar lessons where they would have you underline the sentence that doesn’t belong in the paragraph? Get out your pencils.

Success in my role isn’t about understanding technology, it’s about understanding the customer.

Oh God, oh God, oh God. Is this about the power of market psychology over product quality? Please see the brief, disastrous history of—and I swear this is real—OK Soda.

You see, many of our customers buy our products, but then delay deploying them.

Yes, in my office’s case, it took four years before the administration even considered a hospital-wide upgrade to Office 2003. Even then, they made it optional. We decided to pass. Clearly, some fresh faced MBA at Microsoft isn’t doing his job.

I also have to figure out how to connect with customers directly, to convince them that every day they delay deploying Microsoft Office they miss out on real business value.

This must be the hardest part of your job, because it’s built on a patently false premise. The difference between Office 2000 and 2003 is so negligible for 99.9% of users that it’s almost surely not worth the money to upgrade.

The rest of the article is a rundown of the beginning of Buchanan’s day. There’s a shameless plug for the Zune in there, along with something about “random fist pumps.” It’s too easy. I’m not going to touch it.